Chapter 22
PRESENT
DARREN
Tonight, in the driver’s seat of my car, I’m fifteen all over again.
My mustache is saving me from having to swipe at a sweaty upper lip as Delaney examines the fry pinched between her fingers, most likely deciding if I was lying or not about the extra salt.
For the record, I wasn’t. The waitress at the diner who took my order was new, and I could tell she was slightly disturbed by the contents of it, but that was the last thing I cared about.
There was only one person’s opinion on my mind, and she’s sitting beside me.
I miss her. Present tense, never past. There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t wished she were right beside me. Even without speaking to one another, I feel a rush of contentment and comfort that not a single other person on this earth has given me.
I’ll never be able to take back the mistakes I’ve made. I was too young and stupid to recognize them as they were happening in real time, but I’m older now. Much older. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted but her. My Elle .
“Do they pass inspection?” I ask, attempting to keep my tone as smooth as possible.
Delaney pinches the fry harder before nipping at the end of it. A beat later, she swallows and then says, “They’ll do.”
“The waitress will be glad to hear that.”
That draws her attention. No longer evading my eyes, she blinks at me pointedly. “Oh?”
“She was new and absolutely thought I was high with a serious case of the munchies.”
She snorts in disbelief. “You? High? She must have just moved here.”
“Is it so out of pocket to think I’d ever get high? Weed is legalized, you know?” I tease, chomping two fries into my mouth.
Her pale pink nails tap at the edge of her Styrofoam milkshake cup. “You hardly drank, let alone smoked. Unless that’s changed?”
“I drink beer.”
“Sixteen-year-old girls drink beer too.”
I grin, unable to help myself. “For someone who claims they don’t want to take any shots at each other today, you came prepared with a few.”
“That one was low-hanging fruit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Bringing my straw to my lips, I spread out more comfortably in my seat and eye her drink. “Does your shake taste the same as it used to?”
She follows my stare. “It does.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
The threat of awkward silence lingers, testing me.
I take a few gulps of my strawberry shake before setting it in the cup holder and turning enough to stare straight at Delaney.
She’s reluctant to look at me, and I’m desperate enough for her attention that it’s easy to convince myself it’s because she’s nervous.
Not that she just doesn’t actually want to be here with me .
Fuck, that thought could break my heart if I let it.
“I’m sorry. For everything, yes, but mostly for how I handled what happened that night. I shouldn’t have forced you away like that. I should have realized the mistake I made and chased you down the highway before you could get on your plane.”
Delaney stops breathing. I hold mine too.
“So why didn’t you?” she asks, voice thready.
“I thought we were better off. All of the fighting and the things we said that we didn’t mean .
. . The distance that felt much farther than it really was.
It seemed like the right idea at the time, but by the time I realized it wasn’t, it was too late.
I couldn’t just call you up and ask for you to give me another chance. ”
“You could have, actually. I waited for you for two years to do exactly that. In case you forgot, I actually waited so long that I had convinced myself that when I came home for the final time, it would be to you still waiting for me, regardless of our breakup. You know what I found instead.”
I shut my eyes, pain ricocheting through every inch of my chest. “I should have. I know, I should have. I’ve thought about it more times than you’d believe.”
“We can’t change the past.”
“We can make up for it, though. I can. If you give me a chance to, I can. I will ,” I swear, desperate.
She shakes her head softly, eyes on her lap. “Tell me what happened.”
“With . . .”
“Sasha. Tell me everything.”
I adjust the temperature in the car, dipping the A/C lower than normal. “Okay. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Were you with her when I was coming to visit you? Before then?” She fires the question like a bullet.
“No! Fuck, Elle. I wasn’t with anyone during that time but you. There was never anyone but you. You had a lock on every inch of my body, inside and out. ”
“So when did it start? Did she play any part in why you put an end to everything? I knew things were hard, and we were obviously drifting apart, but for you to just end it like that? So completely? I think I convinced myself she was the reason for the breakup, even if the timing of Abbie didn’t really line up. ”
“No, she didn’t have anything to do with my terrible decision that night,” I say, putting emphasis on every word.
“Not at all. I hardly remember meeting her again after high school. She wasn’t ever around on campus when I was, or if she had been, I never saw her. Sasha was just . . . there that night.”
The ball in my throat makes it hard to breathe. I couldn’t sound more like a piece of shit. Regardless of my self-loathing, I force myself to continue, knowing she deserves to know every bit of truth.
“That last year of school was miserable for me. I didn’t eat or sleep, and I sure as shit never went back home.
The only thing being back in Cherry Peak did was remind me of you.
So, I stayed in Calgary and went to class, and when I wasn’t in class, I was locked in my dorm, drinking until I forgot why you weren’t there beside me and could just be without regret.
Blue held party after party in that place, and I let him without complaint. ”
Too curious to avoid seeing her reaction, I look across the cab. Delaney’s staring out the window, the inside of her cheek hollowed as if she’s biting down on it. My fingers shake when I tug at the collar of my shirt to try and clear my airway.
“You took everything from me, Darren,” she whispers, hurt and betrayal thick in her voice.
Oh, baby.
I choke, “I’m sorry, Delaney.”
“My hometown, my friends, your family, who I saw as an extension of mine. I was alone.”
“I never meant to take everything. I didn’t even mean to take myself.
Every choice I made was a mistake. The worst ones I could have ever made that snowballed into a million more.
It was always supposed to be you. I was young and stupid and didn’t know the repercussions of what I was doing.
I was beyond na?ve and thought that it would all be fine in the end.
We’d take that time apart for real, and once we graduated and went back home, we could pick up where we left off without all of the painful things that were happening.
I thought it was easier than the constant fighting and the short phone calls or missed flights.
We were meant to be together, and I assumed nothing would get in the way after we were ready for the commitment we knew was coming.
I was so fucking wrong, and I learned that the hard way. ”
“You were wrong. And it wasn’t me, Darren.
You chose someone else,” she says, the words turning colder than the air blowing through the vents.
“You can regret what happened and wish things were different, but they can’t ever be the way they were going to be back then.
Sasha got the life I wanted with you. She got to watch you become who you are now. Without me.”
My stomach turns. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I let out a wavered exhale.
“I would take it back. I’d back every single thing but my daughter.
She’s the only connection I have to Sasha now, but she’s my little girl.
Abbie was the only light I had in the darkest moments of my life.
She put me back together when I thought I was too lost to find myself again. ”
“I’d never want you to regret that little girl. She’s your daughter.”
“She is.”
“And Sasha was your wife,” she says, tripping over the last word. “You married her.”
I can hardly speak. Every word sounds hollow, unfamiliar. “It was the right thing for me to do. She was pregnant with my daughter. I grew up in a household with both parents. That’s what I wanted for her, even if it wasn’t the right thing for me.”
“Why did you sleep with her? If you were so broken up about me, why her when you could have waited for me the way you claim you wanted to.”
“I don’t know,” I mutter with a raw wince .
Delaney tucks her hair behind her ear, still avoiding looking at me. “Yes you do.”
“She was . . . there. She was just there, Delaney, and I know how pathetic that sounds. When I hit rock bottom, she was there, and the morning after, I found my true bottom hidden far beneath that one.”
Silence is her only reply. For long enough that we both finish our milkshakes and avoid reaching into the diner bag for food that we can’t stomach now. The clock runs toward the end of my hour, a cruel reminder that I might not ever get another one.
“Did you . . . date her? Before that night?”
I whip my head toward her. Finally, she’s looking at me.
Our eyes clash, and I breathe deeply, filling my lungs in a way I haven’t been able to since we started speaking about this.
She presses her lips together and blinks, the slightest crinkle between her brows. A tell that I recognize immediately.
“No,” I blurt out. “I hadn’t dated anyone after you. It was always you.”
“It doesn’t surprise me that you married her, Darren. She was pregnant.”
“I owed Abbie two parents.”
“You weren’t happy, though, were you? I saw you during those few years you had a ring on your finger. What did marrying her cost you?”
I almost laugh. It’s not the time for me to answer that question. Not when tonight has already been hard enough. If she ever gives me another chance to sit and talk like this, maybe I’ll tell her then.
“I survived,” I say instead.
Almost reluctantly, her chin dips before she darts her stare to the bag of food. “What fundraiser ideas do you have?”
“What?”
“We need to talk about the fundraiser you wanted to do,” she explains, as if I simply missed what she said .
I try to keep my expression neutral despite my confusion. “Right now?”
“You have fifteen more minutes tonight. We can save the rest of the conversation for next time.”
“Next time,” I echo, heart racing.
She reaches into the paper bag and pulls out her burger while cocking a brow at me. “Eat, Darren. Yes, we can have a next time. One more night.”
I don’t make her say it again. Not when I could risk waking up from this dream to find myself alone again.