Thirty-six
Teagan
“Fuck you, Heath,” I seethe through my tears.
I turn and keep going toward the room. The sound of blood rushing in my ears drowns out his pleas for me to stay. When I make it to the room, I have to pause to unlock it, and he catches up again.
“Stop following me! I don’t want you in here!” I yell.
“It’s my room too!”
I try to slam the door closed but he stops it with his shoulder and comes in.
“I got pregnant? That’s why we broke up?” I yell at him. “Don’t you dare put this all on me! As if you didn’t get me pregnant. As if you didn’t make the decision with me, then turn around and cheated two seconds later!”
“I didn’t cheat on you! Oh my fucking god, Teagan!” he yells right back, his volume high to match mine. We’re lucky there are no neighbors to hear us. “How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me? I never even thought about being with anyone else. I was there with you the whole time!”
“Bullshit!” I throw the pillow at him and he blocks it. “You were there, then you left. I was wrecked, and you moved on like nothing happened.”
His eyes go wide. “I moved on? You think I moved on?”
“What do you call it when it took you less than a week to go fuck someone else?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Teagan! I swear on my mother’s life I never cheated on you!”
He would never play with a phrase as serious as that—never play with anything related to his mom or her well-being. I don’t want to believe him, and my glare holds strong.
“The night you think I was with someone else, I slept over at Ritchie’s to keep him from asking questions about our trip to the clinic. At some point I passed out and his dumb ass invited girls over. I didn’t even meet them.”
He stares me down with the truth behind his eyes. I can’t find words to say back.
“ You were the one who left, Teagan. You were the one who went cold and wanted nothing to do with me!”
“I went cold?” I feel angry tears run down my cheeks. “You didn’t think that was because I was depressed? That I was so fucked up about what happened I could barely get out of bed—barely hold it together while having to hide it from everyone else?”
“You don’t think I was feeling the same way?”
“It was not the same for you. Fuck! I couldn’t even go pee without being reminded of what happened. I had to hold it all in, crying in private, because the only person I could talk to about it was you!”
“Then why didn’t you?” he asks in a quieter, calmer voice, staring me in the eyes while tears fill his own. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
My mind stutters. I pushed down the memories so hard it takes a moment to remember. I hid everything beneath the pain, the fear, the inherent remorse of ever being seventeen and stupid.
“I couldn’t,” I say, my voice husky with tears. “I just . . . couldn’t.”
It had been the best summer of my life until that point. Valedictorian with a perfect SAT and my pick of more than half the Ivy Leagues in the country. When Heath got accepted into Columbia, that’s where I went, no second thoughts. Being close to him made me happy in ways I still haven’t found a way to replicate, and I knew whatever struggle college or our families presented, we would still be okay if we were by each other’s side. However briefly, I was free from stress, excited for the future, and so in love. Then everything changed.
Six weeks.
We knew we fucked up and we tried what we could to fix it, but still, I missed a period, took the test, and saw the two blue lines. I was throwing up, having panic attacks, mostly because I was petrified of what my parents would do if they found out. It was killing me, and in some ways, I was letting it.
The decision was barely a choice.
Heath looks away as he processes his thoughts, my words, something. His face crumples more with emotion. “I know you blame me, and you should. If I hadn’t been lazy and just gotten the condom like you asked . . . I wouldn’t have ruined everything. I wouldn’t have ruined us .”
I stare at him, his words sinking in, and it feels like I’m losing him all over again. The abortion was hard, but the procedure itself wasn’t even a fraction of the pain I felt when I realized I had lost him.
“I’m sorry, Teags,” he says, losing the fight with his tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Watching him cry hurts. It reminds me of who he was, what he meant to me when we went through it. What we had been before it happened.
He was my world. I loved him more than anyone and anything in the universe. Somehow, I lost the ability to remember that. When he left, I went cold. It was easier to hate him than to miss how it felt when I loved him.
“I didn’t blame you,” I admit. He finally looks at me again. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through, but I didn’t blame you. I was angry because it hurt to watch you move on while I was still reeling.”
“But I didn’t move on,” he says. “I’m still in that place. Still hating myself, still knowing I’m a fuckup who ruins everything for everyone I love. You were the one who seemed okay.”
“Well, I wasn’t. I was the complete opposite of okay.” I sob and cover my face with my hands.
I crumple, my back sliding down the end of the bed as I sink to the floor. He sits beside me and hugs me close. I cry onto his shoulder.
It was too much for me to process back then. Too many adult decisions needing to be made by two kids. I saw how he behaved and made my assumptions like a stupid teenager. And why?
I have no regret about our decision. I thought we would try again one day, years down the line when I had gotten through school, passed the bar, achieved everything my parents wanted of me. The picture I always had was the two of us together when we were older. Little brown, curly-haired dumbasses running around our Manhattan condo, Heath chasing them while I laughed over a mug of coffee and the work I’d brought home for the weekend.
The animosity didn’t come from what happened. It came from losing that perfect picture.
But now, I realize I never asked what that picture looked like to him.
“Do you regret it?” I ask.
He takes another shaky breath. “No,” he says wistfully. “Sometimes I wonder what our lives would have been like if we’d had a kid, but you have achieved so much and come so far in your life, and I know that wouldn’t have been possible if we did. It wouldn’t have been the same, at least.”
“Yeah.” I sniffle.
He holds me for a moment, letting my tears calm. When I finally look up at him, I find an intent expression on his face.
“You know I love you, right?” he says. My brow tenses even harder. “I’ve always loved you. I probably always will. I just get mad sometimes because . . .” He trails off.
“Because what?”
His mouth twists with a sad frown. “Because it’s hard to see you being amazing on your own when I had my heart set on you being amazing with me.”
Those words rip me to shreds. I lose myself to my tears again. I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him while hiding the pain that is clearly drawn on my face.
There is so much I want to say but I can’t stop crying enough to get it out. He holds me and the words go unsaid again.
We can’t go back to how we were. As much as we wish we could, all we have is this.
Our tears, our company, and five days left of summer.
~
We barely slept last night, but we didn’t talk anymore either. We held each other until we woke up, then rushed off to get ready for the big event.
As the bridal party walks to the altar, I try to stay present and take it all in. Months of planning, all for this, and yet I want to be anywhere but here.
It’s the perfect beach wedding. White and pink flowers hang from the sides of the gold Chiavari chairs, fluttering in the wind while their scent mixes with the smell of saltwater. The dusty-rose color of my dress compliments the ecru suit Mary’s brother wears, and looks perfect with the other shades of pink Mary picked for the bridesmaids. Organza ribbons drape across the trellis that creates the altar. Petals of soft pink roses and peonies dangle from translucent strings behind the priest, dancing as the wind passes through them.
It’s beautiful. Just as they had imagined, just as they deserve.
Smiles light up people’s faces as they watch us walk down the aisle. Happy. That’s how weddings should feel.
We part ways at the end, and I take my place on the raised platform, smiling at Ryan and ignoring the ache in my chest while I wait for Heath.
He appears, and I feel my heart stop. While his bridesmaid cheers and wriggles with glee, he can’t hide his sadness, no matter how much he tries to smile at the family and friends seated around us.
His eyes find mine when he lets her go. They flicker away, and he takes his place behind Brett.
The music changes. Mary comes into view. A bride in all white, her arm around her father’s, just like in the movies. She looks beautiful with tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face. I’m happy for her, but I can’t say I’m happy.
I feel nothing as I go through the motions, pretending to hear the vows, handing Ryan the ring. It goes by quickly, and for that I’m glad. When the priest begins his speech, I count the seconds until it’s over.
“True partnership stems from love and is bound by trust,” he says in his Spanish accent. “The trust we will always have for the one we love, the one we promise to love forever, for better or for worse. I hope you always revel in the good times, when the sun shines, when laughter fills the day. But even more, I hope you hold each other and rely on each other when the bad times come—and there will be many bad times. We say ‘better and worse’ because there will always be both. And for that, we thank God, for it is the better that helps us through the worst, and the worst that makes us thankful for the better.”
I glance over and find Heath looking at me. He makes no move to look away, and neither do I.
“For richer or for poorer is straightforward, so we will skip past that,” the priest continues, gaining a laugh from the crowd. “In sickness and in health, love means we never have to go through anything alone. The worst times of our lives, the moments we feel the weakest and the furthest from God’s light, you will survive because you will have each other, always. And how blessed you will feel to have each other after you survive it all as well.”
The words make a lump form in my throat. I feel my brow tense and I see Heath’s do the same. What we went through, it was scary, and it was painful, but I had him. Through it all, he held my hand, told me it would be all right. But then it wasn’t.
We were young. Stupid. If we had one more day alone with each other to talk things out, to keep grieving, to keep going through the worst together , how different things could have been. How different we could have been.
The crowd cheers, pulling me back into the present. I blink, a tear falling from my eye, and clap as the two of them kiss. I wipe my cheek, relieved to know my tears won’t seem out of place.
As everyone else watches the happy couple, all I can see is Heath.
I love him. I miss him. And it hurts so fucking much.