Chapter 29 #2
A pair of teenagers glance our way. Flip is wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie, nothing team related, so he mostly blends in.
“I was hurt more than anything,” he says.
“And maybe pissed at myself for not seeing what was right in front of me. But I could have dealt with it a lot better than I did. Tristan is a good guy, but he’s got a lot of baggage, Rix.
A lot. What happened with his mom really screwed him up.
When he said he changed his mind about talking to you, I don’t think it’s because he didn’t want to.
I think it’s because he’s scared that you’re going to tell him to go fuck himself.
So maybe give him a chance to explain. He’s bad at feelings, and he has a lot of them when it comes to you. ”
“I don’t get why he would fly all that way just to turn around and fly right back home.”
“Neither do I, to be honest. But he’s miserable without you and scared to admit it. Before you write him off, at least let him explain his actions.”
“Who says he’s even going to try?”
“He’s waiting for you at your apartment.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Because I dropped him off before I came to see you. Hollis let him in the building.” He stands and looks at me expectantly.
When I don’t make a move to follow his lead, he sighs.
“I need both of you to stop being miserable, and the only way to do that is by talking. So please go home and deal with him.”
I exhale an anxiety filled breath. “Okay. I really hope you’re right about this, because I honestly can’t handle any more heartbreak.”
“I’m right. I’ve known him for a long-ass time. He doesn’t show his feelings much, but the ones he has for you are excessive and plentiful.”
I follow Flip out into the cool evening, and he walks me back to my building. “Give him shit and make him own his,” he says when we arrive.
“Okay.”
“I love you, Rix.”
“I love you, too, Flip.”
I push through the doors and hit the button for the elevator. My palms start sweating on the ride up to my floor.
Sure enough, Tristan is sitting in the hall outside my apartment.
He picks up an enormous bouquet of peonies and a cake from Just Desserts and scrambles to his feet. “Bea, can we talk, please?”
I approach him slowly. I will not be swayed by cake and flowers.
Not this time. He looks rough, but also delicious.
He’s changed into a T-shirt that hugs his thick biceps, a pair of jeans, and some flashy running shoes.
Guy loves his freaking running shoes. His coat is lying in a heap on the floor.
He’s sporting two days of stubble and dark circles under his eyes that match mine.
These are things I didn’t notice on the plane.
He steps aside while I use the keycard to unlock the door. Thank goodness this place doesn’t have old-school locks. My hands are way too shaky to deal with getting the key in the hole. I usher him inside and put the island between us.
Hammer comes out of her bedroom with a bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m going to visit my dad. For the night.”
“I’m not kicking you out of the apartment,” I say, my eyes bouncing between her and Tristan.
“I know. I’m offering. He’s been bugging me to have a movie night anyway.” She gives me a brief hug. “Just hear him out.”
“Hey, Hammer.” Tristan sets his armload of grovel gifts on the counter and waves.
“Hi, Tristan. The cake and flowers are a nice touch, but please communicate your feelings to each other so you can both stop being sad.” She slides her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers and leaves us.
I cross my arms. “I’m listening.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I miss you, Bea. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. All I think about is you. I can’t even look at a cucumber anymore without feeling like my chest is caving in. I fucking hate this.”
My heart squeezes. These are all things I want to hear, but it’s not an explanation. “I hate it, too, but it doesn’t clarify why you were on a flight back to Toronto. Why come to Vancouver to talk to me and then change your mind?”
He starts pacing. “I chickened out. I’m a fucking pussy.
I admit that. Last night, the guys sat me down and told me as much.
And then I flew to Vancouver to tell you I want to be with you, but when I got there I just…
couldn’t do it. Because I’m a chickenshit.
So I got back on the plane, and then you were on it, and I didn’t expect to see you, and I started eating those horrible Fuzzy Peaches that make my mouth peel, and you were so beautiful, and real, and right fucking there, and I wanted to touch you and talk to you, but we were trapped in first class, and I just…
choked. There were all those people watching.
I know I fucked it up. But even if I hadn’t lost my nerve, I would have been too late because you were already on a plane back here, so my plan would have been shot to shit anyway. ”
“Why did you lose your nerve?”
His eyes are wild, and he swallows compulsively.
“Because…because the way I feel about you terrifies the fuck out of me.” He runs a rough hand through his hair. “And I’m afraid that you’ll realize I don’t deserve you, or that I’ll get traded at the end of the year, and you’ll decide you don’t want to do this with me anymore.”
“So you broke up with me because you’re afraid of your feelings and what the future might look like?” I ask.
He looks so forlorn and lost. “It was a stupid thing to do, Bea. I know that. I know I screwed things up. But I couldn’t get out of my own fucking way.
I could barely handle it when you moved out.
I was miserable then, and all these feelings I have about you, for you, they just keep getting bigger.
And what if you leave me again? Or I have to move, and you don’t want to come with me?
Or you decide Vancouver is a better place for you?
I thought if I ended things now it wouldn’t hurt as much, but I was wrong, Bea.
So fucking wrong. Everything sucks without you. ”
I cross my arms. “You don’t get to keep doing this to me. You can’t lash out every time things get hard, or you get scared. Shutting down when there’s a tough conversation isn’t something I’ll accept from you.”
His nostrils flare, and his knee bounces with his anxiety. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Tristan. You ripped my heart out last week and tossed it in a meat grinder.
You treated me like one of your bunny hookups and made me feel like a giant piece of shit.
I was fucking devastated. Devastated . You discarded me like trash.
Like I meant nothing to you. Is that what you intended? Is that how you wanted me to feel?”
His eyes are haunted, and I swear for a moment he looks like a lost little boy.
“If you want to fix what you broke, you need to decide what you want and do something about it. I can’t be the only vulnerable one here. You can’t take and not give.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m sorry.” He rubs his bottom lip. “I think I’m pretty fucked up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember how I told you I came home when my mom was leaving?” he says softly.
I nod. “You had to tell your brothers and your dad when they got home.” That alone would do enough damage to warrant years of therapy, which I’m not sure he’s ever had.
He nods. Swallows a few times. “I, uh…I asked her not to go.” He drops his head.
“Begged her not to leave, even though a lot of the time all she did was get angry at us.” He exhales an unsteady breath.
“But I didn’t want her to go. I told her I’d do better, that I’d do anything if she would just stay. ” He kneads the back of his neck.
His gaze lifts, and my heart breaks for the boy who was crushed that day, because he’s still very much inside the man before me. He opens his mouth once, twice. Grinds his teeth together and releases a huge exhale before he continues.
“She said it didn’t matter what I said or did. It would never be enough. She didn’t want us anymore. And then she left.” His eyes drop to the floor. “I never told anyone that part. Not Flip, definitely not my dad, or my brothers.”
My heart feels like it’s shattering. What a horrible, hateful, selfish thing to do to another person.
Especially her own child. Everything falls into place.
Because when she said that to him, she created a core wound, leaving him to believe he’s not enough.
He still believes it. One of the most important, influential people in his life, one who was supposed to show him unconditional love, took that away from him and did so much damage in the process.
She scarred his heart and made him believe he was intrinsically unlovable.
Of course he’s afraid of his feelings. His love wasn’t enough to keep his mother from leaving, so how could it keep me from doing the same?
He equates love with loss. Big loss. The life-changing, heart-eviscerating kind.
“I’m so sorry for the way she made you feel, and that she was too selfish and too much of a coward to admit she was the one who didn’t feel like she deserved to be part of your family.
I’m sorry she put that on you.” I pause until he meets my eyes.
“It isn’t your fault that she left, Tristan.
You didn’t cause it. You’re not the reason for it.
She wasn’t enough, not you. But you can’t keep hurting the people you care about because of it. ”
“I know.”
“Do you, though? Because I hear the words, but your actions say something else,” I tell him gently.