29. Tristan
TWENTY-NINE
TRISTAN
Flames crackled and roared around me, the heat of the inferno unbearable. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I gasped for air, my lungs screaming for relief. The smoke was everywhere; it seemed to reach out and grab me.
Through the smoke, and the roaring flames that hadn't penetrated my room yet, I could hear them—Mom and Dad—calling out my name in desperation.
"Tristan!" Dad's voice breaks, his plea piercing my heart like a jagged dagger. "Get out of here if you can."
"Mom! Dad!" I scream, trying to push forward through the thick smoke that chokes me with every breath. What is Dad saying? That he wants me to leave them behind? I'm not leaving without them.
I could feel my eyes stinging from the smoke as I forced myself forward, determined to get to my parents. My heart raced and adrenaline filled my veins as I pushed through the thick smoke. I had to find them. I refused to leave them behind.
My bedroom door creaked open, and I was immediately met with intense heat that almost knocked me off my feet. The handle of the door was hot, but I was too determined to care. Clearing away some of the smoke, I peered into the hallway and saw it was already engulfed by flames.
I had no time to lose; I had to locate Mom and Dad quickly or they would be lost forever in this inferno.
But where were they? Had they made it out, or were they still inside somewhere?
My heart pounded as I desperately tried to figure out if their voices were coming from their bedroom or the living room.
But their voices are distorted by the blaze consuming our home.
My throat burned from the smoke, my eyes stung with tears. My body felt heavy, weighed down by an invisible force holding me back.
"Tristan... We... love... you." Mom's voice is weaker now, barely audible above the relentless roar of the fire. I can't breathe. The smoke is suffocating me. My vision blurs, dark spots clouding the edges.
Without hesitation, I spun around and ran into their bedroom, dodging embers that rained from above like fiery snowflakes and blackened beams that crashed around me like thunderclaps in a stormy sky.
"Tristan, wake up!" The sudden touch jolts me awake, and I find myself staring into Myles's concerned eyes. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest. My breathing is ragged, my whole body shaking from the intensity of the nightmare.
His strong arms grip my shoulders, keeping me anchored as my heart races wildly in my chest.
Instinctively, I try to pull away from him, but Myles holds me tight, refusing to let go.
I'm bigger and stronger than he is, but I'm too weak to escape his hold on me right now.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment, ashamed that he's seen me like this—broken, haunted by my past. I want to run, to hide from his all-consuming love for me, but I can't.
"A nightmare?" His brow furrows with worry. Myles pulls me closer, his soothing voice a balm to my frayed nerves. "Shhh, it's okay. It was just a dream. I'm here now."
I nod, swallowing hard. It's been months since I've had a dream like this, so Myles had never witnessed an episode. "Yeah," I whisper, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "The fire... my parents."
Myles rocks me back and forth, back and forth. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
The guilt of surviving the fire that killed my parents has plagued me over the years, and to be honest, my natural inclination is to tell him I don't deserve his love and support, not after all the lives I failed to save.
The weight of their lives bears down on me, threatening to crush my spirit.
The last vestiges of the nightmare have left me bewildered and bereft, and I'm worn thin by the memories of that fateful night. I gratefully lean into Myles's touch.
I bury my face in his unclothed chest as tears burn the backs of my eyes. He tightens his arms around me as if he's trying to absorb my pain and make it his own.
"Tristan," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. I'm here for you, always."
His words are a balm to my wounded soul, soothing the self-loathing that threatens to consume me.
In that moment, I know I'll never be able to resist the affection Myles offers, because I love him with every fiber of my being.
The comfort of being in his arms brings a warmth that seeps into my bones.
I need this, I realize. God, how I crave his closeness.
And I can only hope that, one day, I'll learn to forgive myself for all the things I couldn't change.
"Sweetheart, it's okay. You're safe now." Myles brushes his thumb against my cheek. "Tristan?" he prompts, clearly worried about my silence.
I swallow hard and force myself to speak. "Sorry, it's just... I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Like what?" he asks gently. "Vulnerable? We all are sometimes. That’s nothing to be ashamed of."
"Easier said than done," I mumble, fighting the urge to pull away from him.
"Hey, look at me," Myles insists, cupping my face in his hands. "You don't have to hide anything from me, okay? We all have our demons."
I give a slight nod in agreement, knowing that giving in to this is an admission of one of my biggest flaws.
But as Myles starts talking about Cara, I find myself listening.
It dawns on me that I know so little about their life together, and I never felt it was my place to ask about it. Yet here he is, opening up to me.
"Even though I loved being a sports agent, it became an obsession," Myles admits. "I wasn't there enough for Cara and Nix. That's why I won't go back to that life."
"I understand."
"I want to tell you something."
"Go on," I whisper, breath hitching in my chest.
"About Cara," he says, and I stiffen. My heart races, uncertain of what comes next.
"I was infatuated with her from the moment we met, and then I fell in love.
It was inevitable, you know?" He presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Every day with her was sweeter than the day before.
She was this whirlwind of energy and passion.
" His eyes shine with memory, almost lost in the past. "She eventually fell in love with me too.
" Myles chuckles, but there was a sadness, a gloomy undertone. "We got married and had Phoenix."
His fingers trace delicate patterns on my skin, igniting sparks as they move. I shiver, goosebumps dotting my flesh. "There's so much I loved about her," Myles says. "Her laugh. The way she'd dance in the kitchen while making pancakes. How she always knew when I needed a hug or a scolding."
"Sounds amazing," I murmur.
"I have regrets, though," Myles admits, voice cracking. "I was a workaholic, almost obsessed with my job as a sports agent. It consumed me." He swallows hard, pain etched in his features. "I won't go back to it. I can't."
"Then… what will you do?"
"Truth is, I don't know yet." A slight smile tugs at his lips. "But for now, I'm going to coach Phoenix's Little League team. Their regular coach got sick, and it's something I can do to fill my time."
"Sounds perfect." My heart swells with admiration for this man.
"There's something else I need to tell you." His voice is heavy with a weight I've never heard before.
"Anything." My stomach twists into knots.
"About Cara's death." His breath hitches, and I feel the tears prickling in my own eyes. "It was Valentine's Day. We were supposed to meet at a restaurant for dinner. But work… it got in the way again." His words hang in the air, a thick fog of regret and pain.
My chest constricts, sympathy and sorrow battling within me.
"Instead of being there with her, I was stuck at the office. I had to cancel our date." Guilt seeps from his every word, and my heart breaks for him. "Cara was driving home when she missed a curve in the road. Her car went through the guardrail of Southern Starlight Bridge."
The truth hits me like a punch to the gut. It's my failure—one of my greatest—and it ruined Myles's life! I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest, as he looks back at me with those warm, trusting eyes.
"Emergency services tried to anchor the car, to get her out," Myles continues, oblivious to the turmoil raging in my heart, my soul.
"But they didn't make it in time. She fell…
with the car… to the river below." Tears stream down his face, and I'm powerless to stop my own. "I blame myself, Tristan. Completely."
Myles's tears glisten as they trail down his cheeks, a silent testament to the raw emotions he's grappling with.
He takes a shaky breath and speaks, voice trembling. "Tristan, we're both... broken. We can help each other. You don't have to hide from me."
I swallow hard, my chest tightening. His words echo in my head, but I can't fully comprehend them. My heart races as I stare into his eyes—those beautiful, vulnerable eyes that see right through me.
"Your baggage doesn't scare me," he continues, placing a hand on my arm. His touch sends shivers down my spine, electrifying my senses. I want to lean into it, and yet I want to pull away.
"Can you promise me that?" I whisper, unable to look away from him.
He nods earnestly. "I promise."
But how can he? How can he understand the weight of guilt that crushes me, the memories that haunt me day and night?
Most days I wear the facade that tells the world that all is well with me.
The reality, though, is something else entirely.
Not even Steph, whom I consider my best friend, knows the real me.
Myles is the only person who has pummeled through my defenses and gotten to the core of me.
And yet, I'm still not even letting him in entirely.
Numbness envelops me like a dark cloud, choking any sense of comfort I might find in Myles's words or touch. Instead of relief, all I feel is an icy wall building up inside me.
My parents died because I couldn't get to them in time. And Cara... that poor woman who slipped through my fingers last February—Valentine's Day.
"Sweetheart?" Myles's voice breaks through my thoughts, concern etched on his face.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. I can't tell him about the nightmares that followed that terrible day, how Steph had to force me not to overwork myself.
"Hey," he says softly, pulling me closer. "You don't have to apologize. We'll figure this out together."
But will we? Can I really let Myles in, knowing the weight of my failures might be too much for him to bear? Can I risk breaking his heart—and mine—all over again?
My body goes rigid in his embrace. I clamp my eyes shut, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. I feel a desperate urge to run from him, from my past, from the present.
"Tris?" he asks softly, concern furrowing his brow. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lie, my voice cracking. The guilt churns inside me, a storm threatening to tear me apart. I can't tell him. I can't let him know that I'm the reason his world fell apart.
"Tristan, talk to me," he pleads, reaching for my hand. His touch burns like fire, and I flinch, pulling away from him.
"Please," I whisper, fighting the urge to spill my secret, to share this burden with him. That would be selfish, though. I can't do that to him. Not to Myles.
"Okay," he says gently, giving me space but not leaving. The kindness in his eyes is almost too much to bear. "But remember, we're in this together. And whatever it is, we'll face it together."
"Thank you," I force out, a lump forming in my throat. How does he manage to be so strong when everything around him is crumbling?
"You don't have to do this alone anymore."
His words pierce through me, breaking down the walls I've built around my heart. I want to believe him. I want to trust that he'll still love me even after learning about my failure. But the fear of losing him is overpowering, crushing any hope I might have.
"Tristan," he whispers, his breath warm against my cheek. "Let me help you carry this weight."
I close my eyes, tears streaming down my face. Can I really do this? Can I really let him in, knowing the truth might destroy us both?