Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
GARRETT
The words on my computer screen blur together. Shaking my head, I try to focus on what I’m reading, but I can’t make anything make sense. The open page of the notebook next to me is filled with scribbles and doodles, but nothing actually coherent.
Damn it. I can’t concentrate.
It’s hard to study in my apartment kitchen—being in the library just kind of set the academic mood. Helped me focus and get in the right headspace. It’s been a week since I’ve been there. Not since my kiss with Marie. Instead, I’ve been working at home alone, doing my best not to give myself headaches—or, at least, attempting to. My concussion symptoms are minimal, and I’m able to go around without my sling unless I feel discomfort. Honestly, I’d rather go to the library, especially since I’m more mobile, but I’ve been weighed down by guilt. I’m also afraid that if I’m alone with Marie, I’ll want to kiss her again.
It just felt so damn good.
Kissing her felt right. Natural. Like something we’re always meant to be doing, and that freaks me the hell out.
I thought if I stayed away from her, these feelings would disappear, but they didn’t. If anything, I’ve only become more consumed by her.
Giving up, I sit back in my chair and run a hand over my face with a groan.
Fuck, this is such a mess. Marie has been such an incredible help to me with my classwork. I hadn’t realized just how much I relied on her until I stopped doing so. Why does she have to be so incredible? So selfless? In the days since I’ve seen her, I’ve been reflecting on our history. She’s always so willing to help anyone in need, including Haven and me. When Haven had issues in high school with some stupid mean girls, Marie came roaring to her defense. When Mom got sick, she’d show up to help clean the house, cook Mom food, and even sat with her a few times when she was going through chemo if I was out in the oil fields and Haven couldn’t get away from work.
Marie has always been there for us… for me. Despite the fact that her own family demands her time, I know for a fact they aren’t nearly as grateful to her as Haven and I are. There’s just so much goodness in her. So much generosity and compassion. It only makes me more determined to protect her. Now it feels like I have to protect her from my raging lust for her.
Standing, I cross to my fridge, yank open the door, and grab a can of beer from the top shelf. Cracking it open, I take a long drink, willing the alcohol to dull the sharp feelings rolling through me. One beer is far from enough to do that, and I’m not going to let myself fall down that slippery slope of drinking to numb everything. Instead, I force myself to remember Mom and how much she loved Marie.
A memory suddenly bubbles up in my mind. Back when I was in college the first time, during my sophomore year, I went home for fall break. Haven and Marie were just kids—like nine, I’m pretty sure. Marie was at our house nearly every day that I was home, which wasn’t unusual, but I’d always kind of figured as she got older, she’d be with her family more often, especially since she had younger siblings. That just wasn’t the case, and I couldn’t help my curiosity, so I talked to my mom about it one day.
“Is something wrong with Marie’s family?” I asked. “She’s here all the time. Doesn’t her dad or stepmom ever worry about her or want her home?”
My mom and I had been standing in the kitchen and the girls had been upstairs playing in Haven’s room. She gazed out the window over the sink at them and sighed.
“Things at home for Marie are… difficult,” she’d told me. “Meredith is hard on her and isn’t always a great mother-figure. She likes it here, and I like having her here. When she’s here, she can just have fun and be a kid. She doesn’t have to worry about anything else. Plus, she reminds me of her mom, so I like having her around.”
“I remember how close you and Mrs. Green were,” I murmured. “But Marie was just seven when her mom died… how much does she remember of your friendship with Mrs. Green?”
My mom gave me a patient look, her gaze soft and mouth curved into a gentle smile.
“She might not, but I do, and I’m not about to let her little girl grow up questioning whether or not she’s truly loved. I want you to look after her, Garrett. Protect her just like you would Haven.”
Back then, as a stupid college sophomore with no patience for my sister and her friend, I didn’t fully understand what she meant. I have a better idea now of what she was trying to tell me, especially after the promise I made to her to take care of both girls. Marie is supposed to be like a sister to me… but it’s getting harder and harder to think of her in that way.
I can’t deny that I’m attracted to her. It’d be pretty stupid to even try, ?especially after that kiss. Guilt continues to swirl within me, but I have to figure this out.
My thoughts are interrupted by my phone ringing. I go back to the table and grab it. When I see that it’s Christian, I answer.
“Hey.”
“Hey, man,” Christian greets. “It’s time for your afternoon check-in to make sure you aren’t being stupid. How’s it going? How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I assure him. I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot lately. It’s my go to response to that question. I could talk about the occasional twinges my shoulder gets, or the ache in my ribs when I twist a certain way too quickly, but most people who ask me how I am don’t really want those details. They want assurances that I'm good, so that’s what I tell them.
Christian isn’t everyone, so I know I could go into more detail with him, but I have a gut feeling that he’s not actually calling me to check in on my recovery. I’ve been keeping him updated on how I’m doing, so there’s something else he wants to talk about.
“Glad to hear it,” he says.
“Is that what you’re really calling about?”
Christian chuckles. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Nope,” I assured him with a grin. “I’m too smart for that.”
He lets out a long sigh. “Here’s the deal. I’ve been tasked with reconnaissance. Haven knows you haven’t been going to the library the last week, and she wants to know why, but she’s convinced if she’s the one to ask you, you won’t give her a straight answer. So, she’s having me reach out and ask because she thinks you’ll tell me the truth. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to tell you all that, so keep that our little secret, yeah?”
“Ooooh, snitch.” I let out a bark of laughter. “What does she suspect?”
“That you and Marie had an argument and you’re avoiding her now.”
Damn… Haven is way too perceptive for her own good. Marie probably talked to her—those two tell each other everything. Did she tell Haven about the kiss? I can only imagine the crazy ideas filling my sister’s head right now.
“Nothing happened,” I tell him. “I just have been taking up enough of her time at her job, so I thought I’d give her a break.”
Christian snorts. “Right, okay. If that’s the story you want to go with.”
“Look, it just wasn’t working for me to study at the library anymore,” I say. It’s not a lie; I’m just omitting the details of why it wasn’t working anymore. “It’s more convenient to do it on my own at home.”
Christian lets out a skeptical humming sound. “It’s really none of my business where you study and why, but I just want to make sure you’re not making things more difficult for yourself because you’re being stubborn.”
The man knows me well.
“You tell Haven I’m fine,” I reply. “She doesn’t need to worry about me.”
“Hmmm, all right, I’ll tell her that. I can’t guarantee she’ll believe it, so she’ll probably grill you later herself.”
I shake my head and sigh. “Haven needs to just chill and focus on herself and the baby.”
“Preaching to the choir, brother. You know you can tell me if there’s anything wrong, right? You don’t have to be all brave and tough for my sake.”
“I know, man. Don’t worry. If anything were really wrong, I’d tell you.”
He sighs. “Okay. I’ll give Haven an update, and hopefully, she’ll let it go for now.”
I doubt that, especially if Marie is upset about how things are between us.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll talk to you later.”
We end the call, and I let out a long breath. This is getting too damn complicated. I need to figure out what to do about Marie. She’s got me so torn up inside and wish I could talk to Mom. Get some advice and some guidance. Rubbing a hand across my chest, I feel an ache, as if my heart is twisting with my guilt and confusion.
Thinking of Mom makes me want to visit her. Maybe going to her grave and just being near her will help me clear my head. It sounds a little silly, but the thought fills me with a sudden yearning. I haven’t been to her grave since the funeral. It’s been in the back of my mind to do so, but I just haven’t done it yet. It could make me feel better, at the very least.
With that decided, I clean up my notebooks and close my laptop, then go into my room to change my clothes. I’m not about to visit Mom in worn out sweatpants and a faded old t-shirt. Putting on jeans and a button-up, I check my reflection in my bathroom to make sure my hair isn’t a mess, wanting to look my best for Mom.
When I’m ready, I grab my keys and head out to my truck. My heart is hammering, and I feel a strange burst of anxiety as I drive to the cemetery. I’m weirdly nervous about this, but I tell myself there’s nothing to be nervous about.
I pass the flower shop downtown and the thought strikes me that I should take a bouquet with me. Pulling into a parking spot outside of the stop, I hop out and make my way inside. A few minutes later, I leave the shop with a bundle of brightly colored daffodils and daisies. They’re cheery and pretty, just like Mom.
Climbing back into my truck, I continue on to the cemetery, my mind jumping between the two points of my struggle—my desire for Marie, and my promise to Mom. I feel like I can’t acknowledge one without betraying the other. I also know I can’t continue in this confusing haze of guilt.
Reaching the cemetery, I drive down the little dirt road, cutting through the collection of tombstones toward the area where my mother is buried. It’s a peaceful place, surrounded by trees and dotted with bright flowers and displays around the graves from friends and family wanting to leave something for their loved one. There’s a long row of American flags lined up toward the back of the cemetery with the names of the veterans laid to rest here. As far as I can tell, no one else is here right now.
Then I crest the hill that leads to Mom’s spot, and to my surprise, I find a familiar car already parked at the end of the row where she’s at. I stop the truck and frown, my stomach flipping.
I’d recognize that car anywhere… it’s Marie’s.