Chapter 29
Lacey
T he next five days tick by at an unbearably slow pace, each second feeling like an eternity and testing the hell out of my patience.
TJ and I haven’t spoken since that night. I know the ball is in my court from the conversation we had before he dropped me off after we stopped by the cemetery.
Neither one of us said a word during the drive home, but I knew exactly what was going on behind those eyes.
I could tell he was wondering where we stood. Where those shocking revelations about his mother left us. And the truth is, I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.
I couldn’t pinpoint how I felt, my emotions and thoughts a tangled mess I didn’t know how to unravel. Then, like he had been reading my mind, TJ turned to look at me and said, “I know tonight was a lot. And I understand if you need time to think things through.”
All I could think to say in return was, “I understand why you hated me. And I get why you did what you did. But that doesn’t make it any less painful.”
There was a beat of silence.
“TJ, you have to understand, it took everything for me to open up to you… everything . I was terrified of falling for you because I was so scared that you’d just end up hurting me, and then…”
“And then I did,” he finished.
I glanced down at my hands on my lap for a moment. “Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“I know. And I want to believe you when you say you had feelings for me, but?—”
“Have,” he cut me off.
My eyes snapped up to his.
“ Have feelings.”
My heart swelled with emotions.
I cleared my throat. “Still, I need to try and figure out if I can get past this. Relationships take trust, and I… I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to trust you completely after this.”
I watched as the hopeful glimmer in his gaze died. He tried to hide it, but disappointment was plastered on his face.
“I understand. Take all the time you need. But you have to know I’m not going anywhere. If you tell me to fuck off, I will. But if you give me another chance, I’ll do everything in my power to prove to you that you can trust me. Day after day, I’ll continue to try and fix this. I mean that, Lace. I love you. And I don’t care how long it takes me to make it right.”
I could feel myself start to fall apart, a wall of tears building in my eyes, so I just nodded and got out of the car. That was the last time I saw him.
Since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. About his mom. About the absolute hell he must’ve gone through growing up. About his hatred for Daniel.
When it comes down to it, I think he just needed someone to blame.
When your dad leaves you as a kid, and then your mom tries to kill herself when you’re fourteen, you’re bound to be a little mad at the world.
My phone pings with a text, jerking me back to reality.
Dia
We’re outside.
I wasn’t too sure about going for ice cream with the girls today, but they were desperate for some updates about TJ and practically forced my hand by telling me they’d be picking me up after work.
Not that I’m complaining. We haven’t been able to get together for a while, and I miss them. Dia’s project for a dog-walking app is starting to take off, and it’s been eating up a lot of her time. As for Aveena, she doesn’t have much energy to socialize anymore. She hasn’t given birth yet, and being a week late has left her a little antsy.
After I’ve grabbed my things in the back, I tell my coworkers goodbye and head out for the day. I spot Dia’s car out front and make a beeline for it.
Aveena’s sitting in the passenger seat, so I swing open the rear door and drop into the back seat with an exasperated sigh.
Dia laughs. “Well, hello, beautiful. Don’t you look cheerful?”
“Long day?” Aveena asks as Dia pulls out of the café’s parking lot.
I scoff. “Long week .”
“Okay, so not to be pushy, but you still haven’t told us about your date with TJ, and we’re in desperate need of some details,” Aveena cuts to the chase.
“We’re going to need you to tell us every little thing, thank you very much,” Dia chimes.
I’m not sure they realize what they’re asking for.
I throw my head back against the headrest with a groan. “How long do you have?”
I was certain telling the girls all about TJ’s tragic backstory would kill the mood.
And it did.
But only for a bit.
We decided to wait until I was done telling them about TJ’s confession to go get ice cream, and it was probably a good call.
Turns out all we needed were chocolate milkshakes with extra whipped cream to lift our spirits.
“I still can’t believe she’s been in that place since he was fourteen ,” Dia says before finishing her milkshake in one big sip.
“I get that he had his aunt, but man. It’s a miracle that boy turned out as well as he did,” Aveena adds.
“And you haven’t talked to him at all since that night?” Dia asks.
“Nope. It’s just as well. I have no idea how I feel about him anyway.”
“That’s not true,” Aveena counters. “You know exactly how you feel about him; you just don’t know how to feel about what he did. Two very different things.”
She’s right.
The problem isn’t whether or not I have feelings for TJ. That’s not even a question.
“Be honest. What bothers you the most about this?” she asks.
I stop to think.
“I guess that he lied to my face for so long. That the only reason he entered my life was to hurt me. And…”
I hesitate.
I’ve never really said that part out loud. It’s scary to think, let alone tell people.
“I just can’t help thinking that he would’ve never been interested in me if it wasn’t for Daniel being my dad.”
“There it is,” she says, a soft smile dancing on her lips. She looks proud of me. As though she needed me to get to the conclusion on my own before she brought it up with me.
“I know you hate to talk about her, but, Lace, your mom… she had a much deeper impact on you than you realize.”
“What about my mom?” It comes out a tad defensive.
It doesn’t faze her one bit. “I’m just saying your mom wasn’t there for you, no matter how badly you needed her to be. She was cold and distant. And she made you feel like you had to fight for her love. Like you didn’t deserve it. You’ve had self-esteem issues your whole life because a broken woman didn’t know how to be a mother. I know because I went through the same thing with mine.”
Of course.
It’s no surprise that Aveena sees through me like an open book. She used to have similar issues with her own mother. Issues she eventually worked out, but it took a lot of conversations, time, and effort on both ends.
“And then you met Theo. He was a stupid high school boy, and you became infatuated with him because he was inconsistent, just like she was. You got addicted to the chase, the ups and downs. And every time he rejected you, you stayed. Because it was familiar to you.”
No wonder Aveena has been studying to be a psychiatrist. She’s incredible at this.
“But then you grew up. You became a guardian for your siblings. And when TJ came into your life, you immediately got scared that he would hurt you like they did. In time, you started to trust him, and then what did he do? He broke that trust. And you took him trying to hurt you for revenge as him rejecting you. If you think about it, this was the confirmation you needed that no one could ever truly love you.”
I think a part of me has known these things forever. I like to say that I stopped dating after my dad died to take care of the kids, and it’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.
Deep down, I think I got tired of feeling rejected all the time. I started to believe that it was inevitable. That it would always happen. No matter what I did.
That the people I loved would never truly love me.
“It’s not just TJ you’re scared of trusting. It’s everyone. And it’s not him you don’t love. It’s yourself.”
Tears have started pouring down my face.
“You want my advice? Go to him. Be with him. Be happy .”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand. “But the way it started?—”
“Doesn’t really matter if you think about it. A painful past brought him to you, but if you take a chance, you could gain an incredible future.”
I’m speechless, silently crying and avoiding eye contact with the confused ice cream shop employee.
“Oh, honey, don’t cry,” Aveena says.
The girls decide to migrate over to my side of the table and give me the cutest group hug you’ve ever seen.
“I’m sorry if I was too harsh. It’s the hormones. They turn me into a giant bitch,” Aveena says as we’re hugging, and I laugh.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry, we all need a little bit of tough love sometimes.”
We stay like that, hugging in the middle of the empty ice cream shop, for a few more minutes—thank God the place is dead. I would’ve looked way too pathetic crying over my milkshake.
I sniffle. “Okay, enough boy talk. Let’s talk about anything else, I beg you.”
Dia laughs. “Fine. Are you coming to the game tonight? It’s the last one before the drafts start.”
I wipe my face and check my fingers to find no trace of makeup. Wearing waterproof mascara was a good choice today. “I wasn’t planning on it. Figured it might hurt to see TJ.”
“I get it, but we’re all supposed to hang out at mine afterward if you want?” she offers.
“I’m fine, thanks. I actually have to catch up on some homework.”
“Please? Even I’m going,” Aveena points out.
“Yeah, but your man is playing,” I argue.
“So is yours,” she teases.
“Come on, at least say you’ll think about it?” Dia begs.
I cave. “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”
That seems to be enough of a win for them because they throw themselves at me for another hug.
I glance at the clock on the far wall just as we’re separating.
“Shit, I have to get home. The neighbor is watching my siblings, but she has to leave at six.”
Dia nods. “No problem, let’s go.”
On that note, we throw away our empty milkshake cups and exit the ice cream shop.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. We got a little carried away,” I say as soon as I step foot inside my house a half hour later.
It’s a quarter past six, which means Mrs. Harrison is going to be late for her Friday night book club.
A familiar laugh carries across the living room as I’m taking off my coat. I turn the corner and see Mrs. Harrison rising off the couch with a book in hand—most likely the subject of tonight’s book club meeting.
“Don’t you worry about it for a second, dear. So, I’m a little late to talk about Jane Eyre . Suzie and Denise didn’t even show up until seven last week. If they’re allowed a pass, so am I,” she declares, making me smile.
That’s Mrs. Harrison for you. The woman likes to gossip. At first, I didn’t really care, but now? I’m invested. Seriously, I never thought I’d be so interested in her drama.
“How’s it going with Denise? You still mad at her?” I ask as I’m kicking off my shoes.
“That I am. She told Corrine my lasagna was just okay at Jack’s birthday party. Just okay . Can you believe her? When she’s ready to apologize, I’ll reconsider, but for now, she and I are taking some time apart.” Mrs. Harrison walks over to me. “Enough about that old wench. How was your night, darling? Did you have fun?”
I nod. “So much fun. Thanks again for watching the kids.”
“Of course, sweetie. Anytime. They’ve had dinner already, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’ll see you next Wednesday for our Downton Abbey marathon?” I ask as she’s putting her shoes and coat on. We’ve gotten into the habit of watching a few episodes together every week. She keeps busy on the weekends, but weeknights can be a little lonely for her. Plus, she wouldn’t stop talking about how incredible that show was, so I figured I’d give it a shot. So far, I’m loving it.
She offers me a big smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”
She’s about to open the door when she stops and glances back at me. “Oh, before I forget, there was a package at the door for you when I got here. I left it on the kitchen counter.”
A package?
I don’t remember ordering anything.
“Okay, thanks.”
With that, she walks out of the house, leaving me to wonder if I bought something online and forgot about it. Seems unlikely, considering I make it a point to keep a close eye on my expenses. I track everything, all the time, to make sure I have enough in case of emergencies.
I don’t waste a second, making my way to the kitchen and grabbing the package off the counter. It doesn’t seem like an online order. In fact, there’s no label on it.
There’s only my first name, written in black Sharpie right on the box.
It doesn’t say who the package is from either, and the box is taped shut, so I have to get a utility knife from one of the kitchen drawers to open it.
It takes me a moment to make sense of what’s on the inside.
The first thing I see is a big ball of bubble wrap. Then I notice there’s an envelope sitting at the bottom of the box.
I immediately realize that the bubble wrap is protecting something fragile, but it’s hard to pinpoint what that is with all the layers. I begin to pull at the tape holding the whole thing together and carefully unwrap the mystery object.
My jaw hits the floor when I realize what I’m holding.
In my hands is the mug my dad made at the ceramic painting place we visited on my last birthday with him.
The last time I saw this mug was the day I dropped it on the kitchen floor and it exploded into a million pieces. I remember throwing it away, but it’s all fixed now.
All the broken pieces were glued back together, carefully reassembled one by one. It was shattered beyond repair. This would’ve taken forever to fix.
This should be gone. No one else knows about that mug except…
My legs nearly give out from under me when realization washes over me, and I sink down onto one of the kitchen chairs to avoid dropping to the ground.
TJ.
TJ did this.
It has to be him.
He was the only person there that day. He’d showed up to take care of me when I was sick, and he saw me break the mug. It was that time he brought me a bunch of meds and soup.
But then that means he would’ve had to go through the trash to pick up the pieces when I wasn’t looking.
No.
No way.
My hand flies to my mouth when memories flash in front of my eyes.
Oh my God, is that why he cut his hand?
He had to wear some sort of bandage for a few weeks because he’d cut the inside of his palm, and he gave me some excuse about how he broke a glass. And he had to get ointment from the doctor, too, because it was at risk of infection.
Holy shit.
I’d be willing to bet he cut himself picking it out of the trash.
This was back when he was supposed to hate me.
I sit there in silence for what feels like an eternity, trying to process my discovery. My breath hitches as I stare at TJ’s gift, and my walls shatter as quickly as the mug did.
I begin to cry. To sob. To lose it.
And the worst part? I haven’t even read the letter yet.
I’m already a mess. I’m afraid whatever he put in that letter will end me. It doesn’t stop me from setting the mug down, ripping the envelope open, and getting the letter out.
Hey, Rich girl,
I just want to start by saying that this mug was a bitch to fix.
The guys doing romantic gestures in movies make it seem like it’s no biggie, but I promise you these assholes aren’t having any fun standing in the rain with that fucking boom box. Sorry, I’m getting off topic.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, these guys are full of shit, and I am, too.
You see, I fixed that mug a while ago. Back when I was supposed to hate your guts and destroy your life. And yet, I spent eight fucking hours supergluing tiny pieces of ceramic back together, all the while trying to convince myself that I didn’t like you.
Talk about a clueless idiot.
The day you dropped that mug is the day I realized you weren’t the villain I’d imagined you to be. It was the first time I ever saw you cry.
You looked at me, with those big green eyes, and I knew right then that I would gladly rip out a piece of my broken heart so that I could fix yours.
That’s all it took for you to stop being the girl my dad chose over me. Because in that moment, you were just like me.
An angry, broken kid who’d lost her father too soon.
I thought we were meant to be enemies. Fated to hate each other. I thought you were my curse, but truly, you were a blessing I wasn’t mature enough to receive.
I’m sorry I blamed you for my pain, when the only thing you ever did was make me happy.
I love you, Lacey.
You were never my enemy.
I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.
Sincerely,
TJ
Tears sting my eyes, my body howling with sobs as I place the letter down on the table in front of me.
Conflicting thoughts and emotions battle themselves in my head, my doubts dwindling into oblivion as I stare at the repaired mug.
The words Aveena said to me earlier come back to me.
“A painful past is what brought him to you, but if you take a chance, you could gain an incredible future .”
I love him.
I want him back.
“Are you okay?” My sister’s voice shocks me back to reality, reminding me that the kitchen might not be the most appropriate place to have an emotional breakdown.
I whisk my head to the door and see her standing there, a worried expression stamped across her face.
I dab at my cheeks with my hand, clearing my throat. “Sierra, hey. I’m fine, don’t worry.”
I expect her to take my word for it and retreat to her bedroom, but she doesn’t move a muscle.
“What happened? Is it TJ?”
I’m not sure I should tell her the truth. I don’t want to burden her with my relationship drama.
“I… No, of course not. I’m fine, I promise.”
Still, she doesn’t budge. A few seconds elapse. The next thing I know, she’s making her way over to me and sitting down on the chair opposite mine. I consider trying to hide the mug and letter but decide that it’s no use. She’s already seen them, and she’s clearly not letting this go.
“That’s exactly what I meant, you know? When I said you stopped treating me like your sister.”
I blink at her, failing to gather myself. The tears are still running free, and I can’t seem to stop them.
“You won’t let me in because you think that’s what a parent’s supposed to do. You want to protect me, but sisters take care of each other . They’ve got each other’s backs.”
This is one of those moments where I wonder if my sister’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone, but, of course, I don’t tell her that.
“I don’t want to drag you into this. I know you and Kelsea are friends?—”
“We are, but you’re my family. Always. Just let me help.”
It’s as though every trace of resistance in my body just melted away. I lay it all out for her, telling her our story in detail—making sure to leave out the dirty stuff, of course—and baring my soul to her in a way I haven’t in ages.
My sister might be an immature brat sometimes, but if there’s one thing she excels at, it’s listening. She’s one of those people who make you feel like you’re the only person on Earth when you’re telling them a story. She gives you her undivided attention, and she just loves to give you advice. It’s like she thinks she’s a shrink or something.
To say I’m surprised to find out that she knew about TJ’s mom having suffered severe brain damage would be an understatement. Apparently, Kelsea fessed up at one of their sleepovers weeks ago, but she made her promise not to tell anyone.
“This is the mug Dad made on your last birthday together, isn’t it?” Sierra picks up the glued-together mug on the table once I’m done spilling my guts. “Did TJ fix it for you?”
I give a small nod.
“You’ve gotta give it to him, this is cute as hell,” she comments.
For some reason, that only makes me cry harder.
Sierra scoots her chair closer to mine to hug me in response.
I can’t remember the last time we hugged like this. It must’ve been at my dad’s funeral.
“You know what you need?” she says when we separate. “A night out. Why didn’t you stay with the girls? Have some fun?”
“They were going to a basketball game at seven tonight.”
“Why didn’t you go?” she asks.
“I didn’t want to see TJ, but now I have to. I need to tell him that I want to be with him.”
She rises off her seat. “Then what are we waiting for? We have a basketball game to get to.”
“What? We can’t go.”
“Why the hell not?”
Are we really doing this?
“Just think about it. It’ll be so romantic. You showing up to support him. Let me just ask Oli if he wants to come.”
We all know what the answer will be. It’d take three grown men to drag this kid away from his computer.
This is all happening so fast a shaky “O-Okay” is all I manage to reply.
She turns to look at me seconds before she walks out of the room and says, “Great. Now, go fix your makeup. We have a game to get to.”