Chapter 49
TALLY
I’m beyond exhausted the following morning when Phillip drops me off at the dance studio.
I’m emotionally wrung out. I don’t want to break up with him, but now that I see the pattern, I can’t unsee it.
I don’t want to end up like my parents. I don’t want Phillip to think he has to be the perfect boyfriend every moment of every day.
I want him to feel as safe with me as I feel with him.
What if he never does?
What if we love each other but he can’t be vulnerable with me the way I need him to?
What if we get married and have a family, and it all falls apart?
What if what if what if.
“You going to be okay today?” He has dark circles under his eyes.
“Yeah. I’ll manage. Go easy on yourself.” No one else will, and I worry about that, too.
“You’ll stay off social media?” His jaw works.
“I will. You should let Hemi handle things.”
“Yeah.” He nods woodenly and sighs. “I’m sorry.”
I settle my hand on his cheek and force him to look at me. “Just because we are not okay right now doesn’t mean we won’t be.”
“You’ll have time to think,” he whispers.
“So will you.” It’s all too heavy. Like we can’t get out from under Phillip’s past. Maybe because he’s never truly dealt with it. “We will be okay. It will just take time.”
He nods, eyes still weighed down with sadness and exhaustion. “I know.”
“I have to go.” He’s clinging to my hand like it’s a lifeline.
“And you need to talk to Tristan and your sister.” It will be a hard morning for both of us.
After dance, I have to talk to Fee, Cammie, and Enid, and then my mom is coming over.
At least I’ve already dealt with my dad.
He tried to rein his temper in, but my tears and his inability to console me made him angry.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, expression forlorn.
Despite spending last night in his arms, the only kisses were the ones on the back of my neck when he curved his body around mine. “You can.”
He slides his hand into my hair, fingers shaking as he leans in and presses his lips gently to mine.
He makes a pained sound, and despite the conflict and fear raging inside me, I tilt my head and part my lips.
This part is easy with him. We can always fall back on the chemistry.
Avoid difficult topics by succumbing to desire.
Ironic that he wanted all the connection but couldn’t give himself over the way he wanted me to.
He strokes inside, fingers tightening in my hair as he deepens the kiss. It turns from tentative to desperate in a matter of seconds. I want to get lost in this, but I can’t. I have responsibilities and so does he. So I pull back. He tries to bring me back to him, but I touch the back of his hand.
“I have to go and so do you.”
He presses his forehead to mine, releases a shaky exhale. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” I extricate myself from his hands, grab my backpack from the floor, and exit the car.
Charles and Arya are already in the studio warming up when I arrive.
“Are you okay?” Charles asks.
“I’m fine.” I do not have time for an emotional breakdown.
“I would feel better if you’re not actually okay,” Arya says.
That’s enough to turn on the eyeball faucet.
They wrap me in a hug from both sides. We might not spend a lot of time together outside of the studio, but we’ve been dancing together for four years, and we share a strong bond.
They don’t ask me to explain, or dig for information, they just let me get my feelings out until I’m ready to put them aside and dance.
Rehearsal isn’t smooth, but it is a good and necessary distraction. Afterward, I return to my apartment, grateful for the plain black ball cap and hoodie that help make me less identifiable. Exams are on the horizon. I need to study and stay focused.
Fee, Enid, and Cammie meet me at the door and fold me into another group hug.
“This semester has been a roller coaster ride for you,” Fee says.
“That’s the truth,” I agree. The ups and downs have been legendary.
“Are you okay? Are you and Flip okay?” Cammie asks.
“Not really.” I understand Phillip’s motivations now, and why his past has kept such a tight hold on him all these years.
To have the person he loved reduce him to an object would be heart shattering.
But my own hurt and fears won’t disappear.
Now we both need to do triage with our loved ones, again.
He has to explain this to his friends and his entire family.
He’s kept this to himself for a decade. Now it’s out in the world and he has no choice but to deal with it.
Fee wrings her hands and glances at Cammie.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Enid asks gently.
“Yeah.” I need an impartial sounding board, people who won’t be hurt because they didn’t know about my boyfriend’s secret ex-wife.
We convene in the living room with bottles of Vitamin Water, and I tell them the parts of the story that feel okay to share. Not the personal, private stuff, just the basics.
“Oh wow, I can’t believe only Dred knew,” Cammie says.
“It’s a big secret,” Fee agrees.
“It’s why he did that I’m having the hardest time with.
” I explain the realization I came to. “He’s thoughtful, kind, attentive, we have amazing chemistry, but he wants me to be completely honest and vulnerable with him, and he won’t do the same.
” I dash tears away. “I can get over the fact that he was married, but I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering if he’s just telling me things are fine because he’s too scared to be honest about his feelings.
” I let my head fall back. “I know my parents’ divorce is making this worse. ”
“I’m so sorry,” Cammie says softly.
“You’re carrying a lot right now,” Fee murmurs.
“It’s reasonable that you’re overwhelmed,” Enid agrees.
“I just need a break from the noise. The media always being in our faces doesn’t help.” The tears are free flowing today and they’re exhausting.
My friends pull me in for another group hug.
“I don’t even really have time to fall apart. Exams are almost here. Everything is changing and I’m terrified I’ll fuck it all up because all my feelings are made of lava.”
“Deep breaths.” Fee inhales with me.
“Do you think he can learn how to be open with you about how he feels now that he knows it’s a problem?” Cammie asks.
“Last night he was but only because he was forced to be.” I can’t get out from under the mountain of worries. “I don’t want to end up like my parents.”
“That won’t happen,” Enid says quickly.
“Phillip does exactly what my mom did with my dad, though,” I whisper.
“But now you know why, and so does he. You won’t spend two and a half decades letting him get away with it.”
“You’re right.” I dab at my swollen eyes. “Phillip hasn’t just been living up to the fantasy boyfriend I built in my head; he’s been exceeding it. But he’s human and imperfect, and he has damage.”
“At least now you know what it is,” Fee says.
“Yeah.” She’s right. And sitting here stewing about the future isn’t helpful. “I think I’m just hypersensitive to all of it because of what’s happening with my parents.” As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door. “And that’s my mom.”
“We’ll be at my place. Just come over when you’re ready.” They help me to my feet and disappear into Fee’s room to grab her backpack while I let my mom in.
She’s holding a bag from the Dutch Toko by our house. They have the best selection of dropjes in the city.
“Pars is coming for you!” Fee yells.
I nab him before he can escape. He yowls and writhes. My mom comes in and quickly shuts the door, but not before my cat scratches the hell out of my arm and launches himself off my chest.
And because I’m a hot mess, more tears fall.
Mom drops the bag and hugs me.
I can’t hug her back without bleeding on her, so I just rest my head on her shoulder and let her squeeze the sadness out of me.
Eventually she pulls back. “You’re really having a rough go, aren’t you?”
My arm is bleeding in several places. “Yeah.”
She ushers me down the hall. “Let’s get those disinfected since Parsnip steps in his own poop.”
“Good call.” I don’t need an infection to go with the rest of the shit heap I call my life at the moment.
Fee, Cammie and Enid pass us in the hall.
“Oh no! What happened?”
“Pars tried to escape.”
“Do you need us?”
“We’ve got it,” Mom assures them.
Fee chastises Parsnip as we disappear into my bedroom.
Mom’s gaze lands on my Madden body pillow, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m too sad to be embarrassed.
She closes the toilet seat and pats the top.
“I can disinfect these,” I say.
“I know, but let me be your mom, please.”
I take a seat and direct her to the first aid supplies.
“Do you want to talk to me about how you’re feeling?” she asks as she wets a washcloth with warm water.
“Sad. Confused. Scared.”
She nods. “It’s a big secret to keep.”
“He kept it from everyone except Dred.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’m not jealous that she knew and I didn’t. His childhood best friend and his family didn’t even know. But if I’m his person and he’s mine, I need him to share all of himself with me, not just the good parts.”
“Did you tell him that?” she asks.
“Yeah. Last night we talked.”
“Did that go okay?” She dabs gently at the wounds. They’re just surface scratches.
“I think so. It’s just…a lot. There’s so much going on. My head is so messy,” I admit.
“You’ve had a lot thrown at you the past few months.
And you haven’t had the luxury of a relationship without interference.
They’re hard when you’re not in the spotlight, but they’re infinitely more difficult when everyone else believes they have an opinion that counts.
” She wets a cotton pad with hydrogen peroxide and applies it to the scratches.
“Is that why you always told Dad everything was fine?” I ask.
She meets my gaze. “It’s possible. Your dad’s job has always been public and maybe that impacted my choices. But you’ve grown up in this world. Phillip won’t always play professional hockey.”
“I know.” I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “The media stuff has been hard, but that’s not what I’m most worried about.”
“Does the fact that he’s divorced scare you?”
“I just…I love him. I’ve never felt this way before. He has my whole heart. And what if we build this life together and it all falls apart? I don’t want that.”
“Oh, my sweet girl.” Mom smooths her hand over my hair, her expression sad and knowing. “We can’t predict the future, but you can take what you’ve learned, good and bad, from me and your father, and do your best not to make the same mistakes we did.”
“I’m trying.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
“I haven’t told him. I don’t know if he feels the same.”
“It’s hard to put your heart on the line. Especially when it’s been broken before. He wouldn’t be this scared if he didn’t have deep feelings for you.”
“I just need him to feel safe enough with me to admit them.”