25. Teeny
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Teeny
NOW
“Should you be manning the grill?”
Andrew looks up at me, a wounded look on his face. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Didn’t you burn the burgers last time we left you alone with a spatula?”
He scoffs. “That was like, ten years ago. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“No, Teeny’s right,” James cuts in. “I can’t risk you burning all of these precious short ribs.” He snatches the tongs from Andrew’s hand just as he protests.
“What the fuck!”
“Hey, watch your mouth in front of your mom,” my dad warns, his back to us but his ears on high alert.
“Whatever,” Andrew says glumly. “I’m going to get a beer.”
“Get me one too,” James calls, and Andrew responds with a middle finger thrown over his back.
I take a sip of my own beer when my phone buzzes in the pocket of my dress. I pull it out, swiping through it to an alert showing a new text message from Leo.
Leo
I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.
Me
Okay. Sadie’s swimming but I’ll tell her to get out.
“Is that Josh?” James asks. “I thought he’d be here by now.”
I shake my head, nudging away the disquiet of having to see Leo and focusing on ways to remain cordial through our pending exchange. “It’s Leo. He’s picking up Sadie.”
“Here? He’s coming here?”
“Yeah. He’s going camping with Javi and their kids, so he’s taking Sadie too.”
He nods, his focus on the sizzling meat in front of him. “That’s good. I’m sure Sadie misses him.”
“Yeah.” There’s a bit of an awkward pause between us, but I fill it by rearranging some of the grilling tools my dad laid out for us to use. Even clacking the hard bottom of my beer bottle onto the surface of the fold-out table, right next to a tray of salad and other side dishes my mom prepared.
“James.” Both James and I look toward the inside of my parents’ house, the sounds of water splashing and Sadie and Sophia playing in the pool mixing with the warm summer breeze as we all lazily enjoy a post-wedding celebration my parents put together for Josh and Mina. My mom has her head poked out the side of the glass doors, looking at James. “Can you take out the trash?”
He’s in the middle of flipping a few short ribs, the sweet marinade scent mingling with the cloud of smoke surrounding him. “Yeah,” he answers, his movements turning rushed. “I just gotta turn these.”
“I’ll do it. Can you tell Sadie to get out? Maybe she’ll listen better to you than me.” James gives me a small smirk and a nod as I turn to the inside of the house to collect the gathered bag of trash resting by the entryway. I heft it in my hands and drag it outside the front door. It takes some heavy lifting for me to heave it into the bin, and I miss on the first try, causing the bag to land on the ground where a pool of trash juice leaks out the bottom.
“Shit!” I mutter under my breath.
“You need some help there?”
I look over my shoulder to see Everett strolling up the driveway. He looks cool and easygoing in his warm sun kissed skin, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, shorts cut high above his knees with a shirt that stretches across his chest, discreetly showing off his broad shoulders. His hair looks a little messy yet laid back, making him look more chic than disheveled as he walks toward me with ease.
“I think so,” I confess sheepishly. He takes the straps of the trash bag from me and swings it in one go while his other hand flicks open the lid effortlessly, not a single muscle straining in the process.
“Okay, you don’t need to show off.”
He chuckles, the deep throatiness of his laughter making my insides warm and gooey. “Is everyone here?”
“Except the newlyweds.”
“I guess they had an exciting night in the honeymoon suite.”
I cringe. “Don’t talk about my brother and his wedding night.”
His laugh becomes infectious as he takes a step closer to me. One that feels guarded and wary. I take a step closer to him too, though my movements are less hesitant, and I realize how much of this is on me. Because Everett isn’t pushing me. He isn’t asking me for anything I’m not willing to offer, only taking moments like this as they come. And that gives me a sudden unexpected boost of confidence, making me bold and a little dizzy.
“I didn’t thank you for the dance last night.” My hand reaches for the belt loop poking out from under the hem of his shirt and I tug at it, gently pulling him closer. We both look down at my hand where the tan line from my wedding ring is too glaring to ignore. My heart twinges at the memory of taking it off last night after the wedding, carefully stowing it away somewhere safe, knowing how much it’s weathered. A wedding, motherhood, hours of baking cookies with Sadie and doing dishes, even a mishap when I thought I’d lost it only to find it fallen behind the toilet tank. It had a good run.
“Is this you thanking me?” he asks. I can feel his eyes search mine through the dark lenses of his Ray-Bans while I avoid the scrutiny of his gaze.
I nod. “Thank you.” I smile up at him, and he lifts his glasses, slipping them off and letting them dangle off his fingers. I finally see his eyes, warm pools of whiskey that light up against the early afternoon sun. And for some reason, the reality of his words hit me at full force. Like a freight train or a missile, crashing into me in a way I can’t ignore any longer.
He loves me. He’s always loved me. I’m not just some girl he dated in high school, filling his time until he found something better. I am the love of his life. And maybe he’s mine.
“You’re welcome.” I playfully shove at him, and my lips twist into a bashful pout, suddenly feeling shy. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling me into a deep embrace. His large hand cups the back of my head, and I feel him kiss my temple, a heavy sigh expanding his chest. My hands snake up his back, sinking into his arms like I’ve come home. For some reason, everything feels incredibly right.
“Teeny?”
Like a zap of lightning cutting across a midnight sky, we’re broken from this trance-like spell that made me forget where I was. For a second it felt like I was sixteen again, finding solace in the warmth of my boyfriend’s arms after he got home from basketball practice. Or I was doing the usual mundane teenage chore of taking out the trash, and he stopped me from the front steps of his own home next door, finding any excuse to garner some of my attention. And now, it feels like I’ve been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“Leo.”
“What’s going on?”
“Uh, I—uh…”
“Who the hell is this?”
Everett steps forward with his hand extended toward Leo, his closeness suddenly so loud and blatant, and I feel ashamed of how comfortable I’d gotten in his arms a second ago. “You must be Leo. I’m Everett.”
Leo recoils, the anger spreading across his face with his flared nostrils and flushed face. “What the fuck, Teeny?”
“Leo, this isn’t what it looks like.” I don’t even know why I’m defending myself. Why I feel the need to contradict all the accusations swirling in my husband’s mind as he walked in on what was meant to be just a simple hug with…my friend?
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re over here with your ex-boyfriend while I’m trying to pick up our daughter.”
“I know?—”
“You’re married,” he interrupts. “In case you forgot. You’re my wife.”
My blood starts to simmer at his words, and I realize that none of this should matter. Because he’s the reason I’m in this place. He’s the reason I’m finding comfort in the arms of someone else. “Did you forget?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were my husband,” I point out angrily. “Until you cheated on me.”
“Oh, come on, Teeny! I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?”
“I don’t want anything from you. I already said this is over. I don’t know why you’re here, telling me I’m your wife when I’ve never felt further than being your anything at this moment.”
“So that’s what this is? You’re cheating on me because I cheated on you? You’re trying to get back at me?”
I groan, my frustration building in heaps inside of me, making skin crawl and my heart race. “No! You are absolutely ridiculous! I am not cheating on you! Nothing is going on with me and Everett. So don’t go and minimize what you did as if it’s not a big deal. You broke us!”
“What do you mean, ‘I broke us?’” he questions with an incredulous tilt of his head. “You’re the one who kicked me out. You’re the one who wants a divorce. I’m over here, willing to work through this and get past what happened.”
“And I’m not, Leo.” All kindness and affection have left my bones. I’ve been wrung dry, and it doesn’t even hurt. I just feel numb. “I’m not willing to look past what you did. I don’t want to anymore.”
“Then don’t spew this bullshit that I broke us when you’re the one giving up.”
“Fine. I don’t care anymore. Go back to your mistress, or go find some new side piece who’s going to give you the attention you want so badly. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
“Teeny—”
“No, Leo. I’m done . I’ve been done for way too long. Maybe it was a good thing you cheated on me. I can’t imagine how badly you would’ve badgered me into staying if I at least didn’t have that to hold against you.”
“I—”
“And for some fucking reason, it’s still not enough,” I cut him off, not even caring what he has to say anymore. I’m on a roll, my words spilling out of me, right alongside the resentment I no longer care to hold back. “Even with you being caught red-handed, it’s still not enough. You still can’t seem to understand how badly you hurt me and Sadie. All you can focus on is that I’m being unreasonable and shoving aside the blame on me.”
“Teeny, don’t?—”
“I’m serious, Leo. I’m so goddamn done. If I need to talk to you, I’ll go through my lawyers.”
“Teeny, please.” He takes a lunging step forward, his movements desperate, and my body instinctively recoils. He wouldn’t hurt me, he’s never laid hands on me, and I can’t imagine he’d resort to any sort of violence, but with the desperation and rage dancing in his eyes and his sudden jerky movements, my arms go up to shield myself.
And that’s when Everett steps in. “I think you need to leave,” he says, his voice icy and rigid.
“What? Are you going to force me to leave? Kick me out? You don’t even belong here. Last I checked, I was her husband.”
Everett stays quiet, positioning himself between me and Leo, acting like a shield with his back to me. He’s standing firm on his request for Leo to leave before things get out of hand and the rest of my family bears witness to this downfall of my marriage.
“Well, come on!” Leo shoves Everett in the chest, and Everett barely leans an inch back. “Tell me to leave again! You want me out of here so badly. Let’s see you force me out.” Everett doesn’t fight back. Instead, he stands there, his hands braced at his sides with his face hardened like stone.
“Leo!” I shout. I was merely frustrated before, irate due to his inability to take responsibility for his infidelity and his deftness as shifting the blame on me, but now I’m livid. “Get Sadie and leave before I call James out here.”
Leo looks between me and Everett, an incredulous look of shock taking over his features. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to let him tell me to leave?”
“No. I’m telling you to leave.”
“Christine,” he says, calling my name with a seriousness I hate hearing from him. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s already done.” I pause and finally look at him. I notice how Everett’s posture softens next to me, letting me finish what I want to say so I can get the last word in. “Please, make Sadie your priority. She needs you, and I can’t watch you break her heart like you broke mine.”
I didn’t mean for it to happen like this, with Everett’s steely presence fixed to my side, but I’m thankful for him right now. I don’t think I would’ve been able to say what I wanted to say without his confidence and sympathetic gaze.
I turn to walk away, not bothering to wait for a response from Leo. I feel Everett trail behind me as I walk into the kitchen. It’s empty, thankfully, as everyone is outside now gathering around the food. I ignore Leo as he walks through the gate from the back, saying a polite hello to my parents and brothers and collecting Sadie.
This man who I vowed to love for the rest of my life is now walking through my childhood home as if he’s a stranger. The same home he helped move me out of when we got engaged. The same home we visit on the holidays with our arms full of gifts. And the idea that this separation isn’t just about me anymore, it’s about my family and Sadie, brings on an onslaught of guilt. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I did break our family. I let my insecurities and hatred for his actions dictate our future.
My heart wrenches in my chest, and the tears start spilling before I can reach for a paper towel to catch their fall down my cheeks. The rip of the rough paper mingles with my harsh sniffles and whimpers, and I know it’s no use in trying to hide it anymore.
“Teeny.” Everett’s soft voice feels like a balm to all the pain twisting inside of me, and it makes the tears fall harder. My back is to him, too embarrassed to show my face to him. I’m dabbing at my eyes over the sink when I feel his reassuring hands on my shoulders. He starts to turn me around, not forcing me but guiding me to face him. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, my chin trembling violently. He sighs, pulling me to him, and my cries start to come out in sobs. My tears stain his shirt, and I feel like my entire world is crumbling while he runs his hand up and down my back.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice weak and watery.
“Why are you sorry?”
“That was so humiliating. You didn’t need to see that, and?—”
“Teeny,” he says, his soft voice somehow comforting even though all he’s said is my name. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
My hands cover my face where I muffle a sob I have no control over, and it sounds so painful and hopeless even to my own ears.
Everett lifts my face to his, all while the tears stream down my cheeks, and he wipes at them with his fingers. I look at him, all the sadness and regret pulled to the surface, and he looks back at me, urging me to say all the words held at the tip of my tongue.
“Everett…”
“Yeah?”
“You said—you told me before…you love me?”
He nods.
“Even after all this time?”
He nods again. “I don’t think I’ve spent a single day not loving you. Wondering what you were doing, thinking about where you were and who you were with.” He pauses and I cry, though much lighter this time as the hope in his words makes its way through the ache in my heart, letting me see for the first time in a long time what it means to love with my entire heart. He stoops down, and I tilt my chin up, and we kiss. Lightly at first, testing the waters in this territory that still feels dangerous and frightening, and then it becomes eager and ardent. Like we’re finally pushing away all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening. The fact that I’m still a married woman. Or that we have no idea where this could go, what the future has planned for us. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe I’m willing to do what I can to figure it out.
“Teeny.” Josh’s trembling voice, level and stern, cuts through the kitchen. I jump away from Everett, creating an arm’s length of distance between us while I wipe the back of my hands across my cheek, unsure if I’m wiping my tears or the evidence of our kiss. I look at Josh, but his glare isn’t pointed at me. It’s all directed at Everett.
“What did Leo just tell me?” Josh asks, his eyes still on Everett.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You were pregnant?”
My heart sinks to the bottom pit of my stomach. “What?” I ask again, this time more shock and fear plaited in my voice.
“I just saw him on the way in,” he explains. “He looked pretty upset. He said he ran into you and Everett outside.” His voice cracks and shakes as anger visibly rattles through him. A flash of a wince crosses his face before he finally looks at me. “He said you were pregnant. And it was Everett’s.”
I stay silent, unable to deny everything he’s saying.
“Teeny, tell me that’s not true.”
More silence. And I nod, my eyes trained to the linoleum floor underneath me. “Josh, it was a long time ago,” I tell him, my voice trembling and scared.
“So he’s telling the truth. You were pregnant. That’s why you…” The pain of watching me, his baby sister, live through the trauma of what I went through at such a young age is evident in the way his entire body softens. His face, his voice, all of it feeling every bit of the ache that tore my heart apart twenty years ago. But then it’s like a switch. He remembers the person who caused all the pain is standing right next to me. “You piece of shit!” It happens in a blinding flurry. Josh lunges for Everett, gripping him by the collar of his shirt. He starts to shove him into the nearest wall, slamming him against it with enough force to knock the wind out of him. “You got her pregnant, and you fucking took off!”
Everett doesn’t fight back, even as Josh’s reddened face comes within inches of his. “I listened to her cry every night. I just thought she was having trouble getting over you, but you fucking got her pregnant and left her!”
“Josh!” I cry out, pulling at his arms as he continues to shove at Everett. “Stop!”
Josh ignores me. “And you’re over here kissing her, acting like you’re not the one who tore her heart to shreds! Why the fuck did you even show up after all these years? What, you wanted to have another go? Once wasn’t good enough? You have to come back and hurt her all over again?”
He throws the final blow, his fist meeting Everett’s jaw with a loud crack. It’s then James comes rushing past me, putting his hands on Josh. He pulls him off Everett with much better success than I had.
“That’s enough,” James’s stern voice warns us.
“Are you kidding me? This fucking?—”
“I know,” James tells him.
“What do you mean, you know?”
“Let’s talk outside.”
“No. What do you me—you knew?” James looks at him, silently begging him to stop. “You knew? Did Mom and Dad know?”
“Teeny.” I hear my dad’s deep voice slice through the kitchen, turning off the chaos like a firm finger snap. “What is he talking about?”
I turn around to see everyone gathered around the entrance to the kitchen, my parents’ shocked faces looking at me with so much sadness and disappointment. I want to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness.
I watch my mom’s eyes well with tears, betrayal painting the edges of her sad frown. “Christine, is this true?”
“I—I, he…” My words are caught in my throat, and I feel like the room is closing in on me. I don’t know how to tell my parents everything that happened. That I was stupid enough to get knocked up at sixteen, and I had to have my brother help me during a time when Everett should’ve been there. That I’ve been keeping this secret for twenty years, struggling with the aftermath of that heartbreak by covering it up with a marriage that feels like a sham now.
Unable to speak, I walk out. I leave the room, avoiding the concerned stares from everyone around us. I hear Josh call after me, James stopping him, and the urgent sounds of footsteps following mine, but I ignore it all as I walk out the front door.
“Teeny!”
I don’t turn around. Instead, I keep walking. Down the narrow pathway that leads into another neighborhood, away from everything that unfolded in my parents’ home.
“Teeny!” I hear again just as strong hands grip my arm. He caught up to me. He came for me this time. Just when I thought it would be like last time, waiting around for him to show up and tell me how sorry he was, he proves me wrong by coming for me. I turn around to face Everett, and he doesn’t let me go. “Where are you going?”
I shake my head. “I just need some air. I need…”
“I’ll take you home,” he offers, his hand lightly tugging me back toward the house.
“No.” I pull my arm from his grip, and a wounded look of uncertainty casts over his features. “Everett, I need time to think. I just need some distance.”
“Okay,” he answers calmly. “Let me take you home. I don’t think you should drive like this. I don’t think it’s safe.”
“No, Everett.” I pace the sidewalk, trying to find the right words because I don’t even know what they are right now. I don’t know what I want to say to him. I don’t know what I want from him, but everything feels wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I shouldn’t have turned to him in a moment of weakness. He shouldn’t have told me he loved me. He shouldn’t have come back. “This was a mistake.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you back there. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I should’ve never told you about me and the—It was all in the past, and I should’ve left it as it was.”
“Teeny, don’t say that. I had a right to know.”
“And you should’ve never left!”
His head hangs between his shoulders, and he lets my words hit him at full force. He doesn’t bother to draw up a shield to help dull the pain of the truth. He doesn’t try to argue with me or even show any sign of contradiction. As if he’s willing to take the brunt of it all at once. “You should’ve called. You should’ve come back for me!”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t! You have no idea what I went through. And you think you can just come back after all this time and act like nothing happened. As if a simple apology is enough and I’ll run back to your arms?”
“No, Teeny. I don’t think that.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I told you?—”
“Yeah, you told me you missed me,” I cut him off. “So?”
“What do you mean?”
“You think you can just swoop in with your fancy hotel and win me over?” He stays quiet, letting my words sink in. “Well, you can’t. The damage is done. You broke what we had, and there’s nothing you can do to fix it.”
“Teeny.”
“No. Josh was right. All you’re going to do is hurt me all over again,” I tell him. The realization washes over me, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. I won’t survive that again. I can’t live through that type of betrayal from someone I was willing to give my whole life to. “There was a time in my life when I was willing to give you everything. I was willing to go wherever you went. I would’ve followed you to the end of the earth, but now, I can’t trust that you’d love me enough to let me.”
“Teeny, I do love you.”
“It’s not enough,” I say, the pain of my words making me realize how badly I wanted him to love me back the first time. “I can’t trust that you’ll love me enough to…never hurt me again.”
He takes a step closer to me, the desperation in his eyes making me want to take it all back. His hands grip my shoulders, and he crouches down to meet me at eye level. I watch him as his eyes grow misty, and his throat bobs as he swallows back the tears. “I’d never hurt you. Not again.”
“I don’t believe you,” I whisper. I say it like it’s a fact. Like saying the sky’s blue or the grass is green. I can’t dispute it, and I don’t know how to make it disputable. I don’t know if I’ll ever be in a place where we could discuss this. If he could ever convince me to trust him again. Wounds like these don’t heal. They just sit there, open and weeping, poking at my heart with the reminder of my past.
“Teeny, please,” he cries, his voice hoarse. He takes my hand in his and presses it against his chest. He holds onto it, linking our fingers together and running the pad of his thumb down the curve of my palm, like he can turn the memory of the lines and shapes into a piece of me he can keep. “I just—I just got you back.”
I shake my head at the same time I start to feel his heart rattle on the inside. It’s desperate and frantic, showing the devastation coursing through him.
“You never…” Our eyes lock, and all I see is the boy who once had my entire heart. It was never something he had to question or worry about, but now…How could I ever be his again? “You never had me back.”
“Teeny,” he cries, a loose sob following my name. “I-I can’t…how am I supposed to live without you?” He squeezes my hand, crushing my fingers together with his own trembling fingers. “Without these hands.” He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a tear-stained kiss into my palm. “Without your beautiful face. And your smile, and—” He drops my hand and cups my face, stroking his thumbs over my cheeks. His hand trails down to my chest, resting over my heart. A broken cry, one that can’t be feigned or forced, rattles my heart, making it vulnerable, and he adds, “Without your heart?”
I don’t waver. “I can’t, Everett.” I place my hand over his and gently lift it, needing the space between us so I can say what needs to be said. Because if not, I’ll change my mind. “I—If you hurt me again,” I say, forcing the words through the pang stabbing at my heart. “I don’t think I could handle it. I can’t go through that again…”
He stands upright, pulling me close to him, and I allow it. I break in a small moment of weakness, wanting to remember how it feels to be held by him one last time. I cry into his chest, and I hear him sniffle back his own tears. We stay like that, letting time stand frozen before I finally pull away and look at him. I watch as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, another painful sob making his lips tremble through a cry. I swipe my finger at my cheeks, brushing away my own tears.
“Okay,” he says hoarsely. His hands cup the sides of my head, and he looks at me. Like he’s seeing the pain for the first time. He’s always been aware of it, always been conscious of what he did, no matter how much time has passed. But he’s finally seeing the visible, physical damage. It’s there in the way my eyes glisten with tears and the way my dry lips catch the ones that have fallen, following a continuous pathway before falling off my chin. I’m broken, and it’s because of him.
I watch him hesitate, like he wants to hold me or kiss me, knowing it’s not allowed. And I almost want to tell him it’s okay. One last time. Just so we can remember how we were and all the moments that could’ve been.
“Okay.”