Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
START AT THE BEGINNING
Gretchen
Connor reaches for me but I’m already on my feet. I grab the pool bag and begin tossing everything inside.
“He was doing what any big brother would have done, Gretch. You were only sixteen.”
I drop the sunscreen into the canvas tote with a thunk , take in a deep breath and whirl on him. My furious eyes are a poor cover for the hurt. This wound that’s been cut wide open, now bleeds in earnest.
“I wasn’t sixteen on that balcony, Connor. But it was Drew that made you leave me there, wasn’t it?” I don’t wait to hear the answer because it’s plain as day. I hurl the bag over my shoulder and storm off.
He’s on my heels a beat later. “Oh, so we’re finally gonna talk about this now?”
I stomp all the way to the elevator, Connor a step behind. Neither of us keen on making a scene in front of a bunch of strangers, I resist the urge to kick him in the balls and he keeps his distance so his balls are safe.
And Drew. Big brother or not, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. It’s one thing to step in when I was sixteen, but it’s another to meddle in my life when I’m an adult capable of making my own decisions.
Finally, I’m furious with Connor. For not being honest with me from the beginning. For allowing my brother to make decisions that were not his to make. For walking away from me. For cutting himself out of my life without my permission.
The elevator doors close, a racing director at the ready announcing, ready, set, go.
Connor charges ahead. “We’re going to talk about this, Gretchen.”
Indignant, I pivot to face him. “Did you ever tell Drew about that year?”
“Did you?” he replies, arms thrown out wide.
Silence speaks a thousand words, all of mine a bitter rebuke.
I didn’t. Full stop, I didn’t tell my brother that I spent a year talking to his best friend. That he’d become my best friend, too. That I’d fallen in love with him.
“You were my entire world,” I finally say.
“And, goddammit, I hate how pathetic that makes me sound. I went into Drew’s wedding weekend so excited to see you.
And things felt perfect and then suddenly they weren’t and then you kissed me and then you ghosted me for three years.
And now I find out that it was all because of Drew! ”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It doesn’t seem all that complicated. I was there!” I shout.
“I was there, too! I remember every goddamn second. I’ve spent three years reliving it, torturing myself over everything I did wrong, everything I should have done diff?—”
“‘A million things’, trust me I remember.” I laugh mirthlessly. “You regret it, whatever, but you can drop the self-serving martyr act because I’m the one! I’m the one who was crying myself to sleep while you moved on to someone else. ”
“That’s not how it wa—” His words cleave at the sound of the elevator chime. Our attention shifts as the doors open to an elderly couple waiting to board. Connor holds the doors open and I step off first, smiling at the couple as I pass them and make for the hall.
When we get to our door, I dig blindly through the pool bag for the room key. Connor moves in, key card in hand, and unlocks the door. Infuriated—and petty, apparently—I roll my eyes and stomp into the room.
I drop the bag on the ground and toss my sunglasses on the entry table. The door clicks shut behind me and I spin on my heels to face him.
“You were saying?” he prods, dropping his glasses and keycard on the table next to my things.
“You are not a martyr.”
“I’m not a martyr. I know that, but for all the things I’ve done wrong, it is more complicated than you know.”
I school my expression into neutrality. His subsequent silence sends my blood from a simmer to a full boil.
“I’m sorry, are you keeping me in the dark on these complications because you think I’m still some sixteen-year-old kid who needs her big brother and his best friend to make decisions for her or are you trying to patronize me? News flash: I’m a big girl now.”
He drags a palm over the stress lines on his forehead.
“No! You don’t get to act like this is putting you out.
I’ve spent three years thinking that kiss was you taking pity on me, or maybe I did something wrong to make you not want me, to make you cut ties without telling me, and now I find out that I’ve been kept in the dark for, what, six years?
More than that? No. You owe me an explanation.
So please, enlighten me on these complications you speak of. ”
I cross my arms in defiance. When his shoulders sink along with his eyes, I know what’s coming.
Tears threaten at the edges of my vision. I repress the fear that tells me to run, to avoid difficult conversations and I brace myself for the truth I’ve waited three years to hear.
The first tear falls. “Start at the beginning. ”
Connor
This whole time I’ve been telling myself I was waiting for her to be ready. That as soon as she was ready to hear what I have to say, I would be prepared. But her eyes are crinkled at the edges in pain. Tears slide down her cheeks. And my confession only stands to make it worse.
The truth is, I’ve avoided this conversation as much as she has. My reasons are different from hers, but it’s avoidance no matter how you slice it. The thrill of being near her, the high of being able to touch her—all of it has been a bittersweet distraction from the ugly truth that I owe her.
There’s so much I need to explain, to help her understand. Even more to apologize for.
I start at the beginning. I tell her everything, never letting myself look away because every tear that slides down those cheeks is a reminder that I did this. This is what I deserve.
My punishment.
My penance.