49. Tatum
49
TATUM
I t’s been two days. Only two days. Yet, it feels like a lifetime. When Pax walked me to my door, I knew he wanted me to ask him inside, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t invite him inside. And I hate myself for it.
I hate myself for a lot of things, but I especially hate myself for that.
Tugging my pillow to my chest, I stare at the blank television, too exhausted to do anything else other than crave chocolate shakes and lobster rolls, the first of which I devoured as soon as I made it home after the fight. I shouldn’t have called in sick. Maybe if I’d found the discipline to get out of bed this morning, I wouldn’t be hurting so much. Or maybe not.
Who the hell knows?
The familiar clink of keys against the counter greets me, but I don’t turn toward it.
Rory’s home again. She took Hades for a walk. She also invited me to join her, but I turned her down. Add another tally to the Tatum’s a failure column. Perfect.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Rory demands. “I’ve given you forty-eight hours, and you’re still at ground zero, which means ignoring you has given us no results. Talk to me.”
My attention snaps from the blank television to my best friend. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Arms folded, she quirks her brow. “Liar. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Tate…”
“Seriously, I’m fine,” I lie.
Striding toward me, she climbs onto my mattress and mirrors my position, pressing her back against the headboard and bringing her knees to her chest as Hades moseys after her. With his nose in the air, he gives a quick sniff, confirming I’m not a threat, then grunts, takes a slow circle, and plops on the ground at the foot of my bed. Rory bumps her knee against mine. “Okay, spit it out. What happened with Pax? Was he mean to you? Do I need to beat him up?”
The idea alone is enough to make my mouth twitch while also making me want to cry, simultaneously proving how off my rocker I really am.
“What?” she challenges. “You really don’t think I could beat him up?”
I give her the side-eye but don’t comment.
If only she knew the beating he gave Killian two nights ago.
“I mean, I could probably convince Dodger to,” she offers. “Or I can always sic Hades on him. Isn’t that right, Hades?” Hades lifts his head and rests his chin on the mattress, giving me puppy dog eyes for the first time…ever.
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I wipe them away. “Stop looking at me like that, Hades.”
“Holy shit, Tate.” She shifts onto her knees, facing me fully. “Okay, now I know something is wrong. Don’t cry.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. We all know I’m the crier and you’re the vault, so what’s going on? I know I’ve been a little busy, but I thought you were enjoying your time in lover’s paradise. I had no idea?—”
“Like I said, nothing’s wrong.” I lick my lips. “Not really. And that’s the messed up part.”
“Tate,” Rory pleads. “Please talk to me.”
“I would, I just…” my voice cracks. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Why are you sad?”
I fight the urge to curl away from her and throw a pillow over my head no matter how overwhelming the feeling is. Why am I sad? It’s such a simple question. One that could be used on a toddler, and they’d be able to give you an answer. But me? The only conclusion I have is pathetic at best.
“Come on, Tater Tot,” Rory pushes.
Digging the heel of my hand into my eye socket, I murmur, “I’m sad because I’m in love with him.”
Her silence only confirms I’m actually on crazy pills, and my shoulders heave on a broken sigh. “I know. I know it doesn’t make sense, okay? That’s why I’m freaking out.”
“Then help me understand,” she begs. “Why is being in love with Pax a sad thing?”
“Because the last time I was in love, I had my heart crushed into a billion pieces.” The pressure in my chest grows until it’s hard for me to breathe. Lifting my hand, I chew on the edge of the IndieCent Vows hoodie sleeve, my anxiety ratcheting as scenario after scenario flash through me. “What if…what if it happens again?”
Her frown deepens, and she stares at me without a word.
When the silence is too heavy, I joke, “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” She hesitates. “I’m not sure I know the answer to this one.”
“Yeah, well, neither do I,” I grumble. “Which is why I’ve been hiding in bed for the last two days.”
“What if…what if you call Lia?”
Nibbling on the edge of my thumb, I admit, “I don’t know if I’ve earned the little sister right to pick Lia’s brain and ask for advice quite yet.”
With a sigh, Rory squeezes my knee. “Earned the right? Don’t you get it, Tate? It isn’t something you have to earn. You two are family. She loves you. And if she knew you were hurting or stressing about something she had the power to help with, she’d be here in a heartbeat. I guarantee it.” She squeezes my knee again, then lets me go. “And in the meantime, I’m getting ice cream for us. It’s clear you need it, and once I’m back, we can binge watch a show of your choice as a consolation prize. Deal?”
“Rory…”
She gives me a look that would make my mother proud. “Deal?” she pushes.
I nod, albeit grudgingly. “Deal.”
“Perfect. And I’m leaving Hades for moral support.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.
With a quiet click, she exits the apartment, and I toy with my phone, my indecision gnawing at me. “Come on, Tate. Just call her,” I mumble under my breath. Giving in, I dial Lia’s phone number, and it rings.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hey,” I murmur.
“Hey, Tate. What’s up?”
I don’t answer right away, unsure if I have the stamina to survive a few minutes of small talk when we both know that if I’m calling, there’s a reason behind it. Holding onto the reminder, I dive right in. “Can I ask you something?”
“This feels like deja vu, but yes,” she returns.
I press the edge of my sleeve against the corner of my eye, too tired to appreciate my sister’s dry wit, let alone comment on it. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“How do you love someone when you know how much it hurts to lose them?”
Silence ensues, proving I probably should’ve been a little more up front about the topic instead of knocking her on her ass with one question.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “You don’t have to answer or whatever. I just figured with everything that happened, you might have some words of wisdom or something, and I could kind of use them right now.”
“Oh, Tate.” She sighs. “You really want to know the secret sauce to opening up again?”
My vision blurs with tears, and I wipe them away. “Yeah.”
“There isn’t one,” she offers weakly. “I’m still scared most days. When Mav is a minute later than he told me he’d be, I’m on the tracking app or I’m calling him or I’m texting him or I’m scouring the internet for any potential articles about a freak accident or a collision or…something.”
Defeat settles beneath my sternum as another tear slides down my cheek. “So it doesn’t get better? It doesn’t go away?”
“The fear of losing someone?” she asks. “Honestly, no. I don’t think it does, especially when you’ve already experienced it.”
My head falls forward. “That isn’t the answer I was hoping for.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies, Tate. You know it as well as I do.”
“So, what’s the point?” I ask. “I’m in love with him, Lia. I’m in love with Paxton, and even though I’m able to admit I love him, the idea of losing him is absolutely…” I wipe beneath my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. “It’s absolutely terrifying.”
“Well, yeah,” she concedes, “but, so is missing a moment that you could’ve had with him all because you let fear hold you back from being with him in the first place.”
She’s right. It’s the reason I can’t roll out of bed. The reason I’m struggling to do anything at all. Because I miss him. I miss him so damn much, it hurts to breathe. But he’s right there. Open and willing to give me a chance. To let him love me. So, why is it so hard to accept, let alone embrace fully?
“And if he’s as amazing as he has to be in order for a girl like you to fall for him, then he’ll be understanding of that,” Ophelia continues. “He’ll reassure you and hold you and kiss you when the moments get rough. When the fear is overwhelming and you’re having a hard time keeping it in check. And slowly, those moments when it’s too much will start to lessen over time, even if they never go away completely. To be honest, I don’t think they ever will,” she adds, carefully. “But here’s the thing, Tate. It’s okay. It’s okay to accept it. To acknowledge it. But to let it control you? Control your future or who you love or how you spend the rest of your life? That’s where you draw the line. That’s where you give it two middle fingers. Which, now that I take into account who I’m talking to, feels like you’re the perfect woman for the job.”
With a pathetic laugh, I dry the moisture from my cheeks, exhaling slowly. She’s right again. If anyone knows how to give two middle fingers to someone or something—including my own fear—it’s me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome,” she returns. “So, is he coming? To the wedding and/or engagement party?”
“Pax?” I ask.
“Yeah.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re starting to put together the guest list for both, and I’d love to meet him.”
The idea alone is enough to make me break out in hives. But that’s what a normal couple does, isn’t it? They meet each other’s families. They travel together. They rely on each other.
I could really use him right now.
“Tate?” Lia prods.
“I, uh, I haven’t asked him yet,” I admit.
“Well, you should,” she pushes. “Although you might want to give him a heads up that our family’s a bit overwhelming and will have no problem kicking him to the curb if he ever hurts you.”
My mouth lifts, well-aware she’s not wrong.
“I’ll be sure to pass the info along,” I murmur.
“That’s my baby sister,” she returns. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”