Chapter 14 #2
I stare at my screen, reading the messages as they come through the second I unblock Lucy on Iconic. One after another, each one makes me more ill as her desperation reads clearly through the words.
@lucybradee: Can I at least say goodbye?
@lucybradee: I’m pretty sure you blocked me. Can’t say I blame you.
My stomach twists, and my heart beats rapidly as I think of how alone she must have felt. I’m such a fucking jackass for blocking her because I didn’t want the temptation of seeing her beautiful, smiling face every day as she went on living her life.
@lucybradee: (picture of dorm room) All moved in! My roommate is pretty great. California is beautiful.
@lucybradee: You blocked my phone number too? I think that’s a bit extreme.
@lucybradee: You know, the LEAST you could have done was talk to me before I left. I thought you were a nice guy?
In some of the messages that span her first semester away, the words are jumbled and don’t make sense. Clearly, they’re a sign she was drunk when she sent them.
When did her drinking that much begin? Did I cause it? As far as I can remember, she never used to drink to excess.
But the fact that it was me she was thinking about while she was out having fun softens my resolve to keep her at arm’s length the rest of the year I’m here.
What we did on graduation night wasn’t okay.
I’m a sick man for letting it happen and an even worse one for cutting off all communication afterward.
@lucybradee: Why won’t you speak to me, Lawson?
@lucybradee: Are you mad at me?
@lucybradee: If you think I’m upset, I’m not. I don’t regret what happened.
The chicken salad I made for lunch threatens to reappear as her distress rings clear in the number of messages she sent .
@lucybradee: I’m coming home for Christmas. Do you think we can talk?
The dates of her messages are further and further apart. Where days used to separate them, it stretches to weeks, and the last two have nearly a month between them.
She sent the final one on New Year’s Eve of that year.
@lucybradee: I’m sorry for all the messages. You must think I’m pathetic. I won’t bother you again. Have a nice life, Lawson.
If I felt bad before, I certainly feel worse now.
I don’t know what made me decide to unblock her. If anything, what happened on Friday night should justify my reason for keeping her blocked. All it did, though, was make me want to keep an eye on her.
And my instincts are screaming that she needs protection and someone to take care of her.
Scrolling until I find the last photo I recognize from graduation night, I scour through images of Lucy’s life.
I take in her smiling face in every snapshot of the summer before she moved, her first semester at Berkeley, every beach she visited, and all the taco plates she tried before claiming her favorite.
There are pictures of her cheering and random fundraisers the team held.
And as much as I try to convince myself I’m not searching for any images or hints of a boyfriend, I find myself relieved that the only men she posts about are her dad and brother.
“Hey, Dad! Whatcha doin’?” River startles me as he and Rose saunter into the kitchen, making me jump and causing my thumb to press on the phone screen.
The result is “loving” the photo that’s blown up, which just so happens to be one from nearly four years ago of Lucy in one of her 50s-style bikini dresses.
“Fuck,” I mutter, clicking the side button to turn off the device. Looking up, I see them raiding the fridge. They both have swollen lips and mussed hair, yet neither seems to think it’s a dead giveaway for what they must have been doing in the pool house.
“Nothing. Work stuff. Are you guys hungry? I can get dinner started?”
“Nah, I’m fine with leftovers.” River pulls out a pizza box from last night. “Besides, Rose isn’t staying.”
“Nope,” Rose agrees, popping the p. “My dad is on his way to pick me up.” She chugs half a bottle of pink Gatorade before handing the rest to River. “Are you happy to be home, Mr. Morgan?”
“I’m happy to be closer to River all the time. Can’t say I don’t miss the city, though,” I state honestly.
There’s something about the hustle of New York that just feels more like home than Illinois ever has. Even Chicago doesn’t sate my need for chaos. When things get too quiet, and I’m left alone with my disparaging thoughts, my demons have a better chance of winning.
“Well, I’m happy you’re home,” my son declares.
“Honestly, I know I shouldn’t say this, but it’s kind of nice to have a break from Mom.
Her drinking is really getting out of hand.
And when she has her friends over, all they do is stay up all night cackling about the stupidest shit.
Sometimes, I can even hear them past my headset. ”
“Be nice. She’s your mom,” Rose gently scolds. Her phone vibrates on the countertop, and she taps the screen before picking it up. “Gotta go. See you at school tomorrow!”
“Byeee.” River watches her go with a fond expression.
“Are you two dating?” I gently inquire.
I’ve noticed he gets a little moody whenever someone brings up their friendship being the way it is, so I tread lightly and watch my hormonal teenage son for any reaction that might tell me the truth.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah. Rose and I are just best friends, Dad. Although, we did decide to experiment together so that when it comes time to do things for real, we don’t look like idiots.”
“Experiment?” I parrot flatly, not exactly excited that my fifteen-year-old is already thinking about sex. “Do we need to have a safe sex talk already?”
“Uh, Rhys already covered it.” River laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck like his older brother does when he’s uncomfortable—a trait they got from me.
Furrowing my brow skeptically, I dip my head, trying to catch my youngest’s attention. “Your brother had ‘the talk’ with you?”
He leans further into the fridge, searching for something besides last night's cold pepperoni pizza to avoid my gaze. “Yup. Got it covered, Dad. You don’t have to worry. Besides, it’s not like we’re having sex or anything. Neither of us is ready yet.”
Relief floods my veins at how he talks about Rose respectfully. “Just make sure to ask if you have any questions, okay? I’d rather you be honest with me than try to sneak behind my back. You know we’ve always had an open household. ”
“I know. I know. Hey, how is Lucy doing? I didn’t get a chance to see her when I was at the Bradee’s the other day.” River changes the subject as he pulls out cottage cheese and closes the fridge.
As he moves to the cupboard for a can of pineapple, my thoughts wander back to my little rainbow, and I realize I can’t really answer my son because I don’t know how she’s doing.
I blocked her from my life and then nearly physically assaulted her in a dingy bar hallway.
I keep telling myself that I can’t think of her as anything other than a woman who’s young enough to be my kid, but I sure as shit can’t seem to keep away from her, either.
“She’s doing good. I think it was a bit of a surprise for us both to be working together now, but we’re figuring it out.
” I pick up my phone again and resume scrolling through Lucy’s photos, careful not to “love” any of them, feeling like an idiot knowing she will get a notification that will clue her in to the fact that I’m stalking her profile.
“I’m sure Rhys will be happy they’ll both be in the city in the fall. She was always the one who got away.”
River’s words don’t sit right with me. The idea of my oldest son contacting her again bothers me in a way it shouldn’t.
I hum noncommittally, but River doesn’t pay me any attention as he finishes up in the kitchen and heads to his room.
“Goodnight,” he garbles around a mouthful of pizza.
Lucy should be with someone her own age. But the thought of her and Rhys getting back together causes the little green monster known as jealousy to sear straight through my heart, eating away at the flesh like acid. And the more I think about it, the worse the pain feels.
There’s no way in hell I’d be able to sit by and watch them reconcile. As selfish as it is, I can’t have her be a part of this family.
Not unless it’s by my side.
And it would destroy Rhys if he ever found out the truth about what happened between her and me on graduation night. Whether he wronged her or not… I wronged them both.
Willing those thoughts away, I reopen our message thread and read through them again. Disappointment at my actions settles in my bones. Regardless of whether I should act on my feelings, Lucy deserves an explanation.
And I know the perfect peace offering to start with.