29. Teddy #2
“Do you have any idea what it felt like to hear that?” Indie sniffs, her face collapsing for a brief moment.
“You think I didn’t already know I don’t have a family—that they didn’t want me more than a fucking bottle!
You think I already didn’t measure my importance to them.
I made peace with that, I really did, because I thought you were my family! ”
“I was, Indie!” I sit up straighter in my chair. “You were the family that mattered to me. You, Nana, Steph, and Dani. My family. Not them—not my mother, not Lily,” I spit their names out like poison.
“I need you to understand that you mattered to me more than anyone on this earth. I didn’t show it, I fucking know that, but it doesn’t negate how I feel. I love you so much, it’s like the most natural thing I’ve ever done. It’s just a fact about me now.”
Indie shakes her head like she doesn’t believe me, and my body clenches in desperation.
“No one else will ever compare to you,” I gasp, my voice scraping its way from my throat. “I want forever with you, too.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that Indie is talking in the past tense, and I’m talking in the present.
“Not enough,” she shrugs, her voice only a whisper.
“No,” I agree, harshly wiping my eyes on my shoulder. “Not enough.”
Her mouth tightens, and she sniffs, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.
“My mother… my mother ruined things, but I let her. I enabled her to ruin so much, including the greatest things that’s ever happened to me—you.
You, Indie. You are the most wonderful, kind, amazing woman…
and you chose me. Over and over. I never had a doubt in my mind about you.
Not one single second. But I didn’t choose you.
I thought I was. Sincerely, I thought I was choosing you by walking some delicate line.
But not choosing you was just choosing them… just wrapped up prettier.”
Indie studies me for a long minute, eyes trailing all over my face, and it feels like a caress. I sit still, letting her, wanting her to because her eyes on me are like a breath of air.
“After… that barbecue,” Indie starts, and I flinch, my stomach rolling just like hers had been that night.
It haunts me, how pale and shaky she looked, how powerless I felt as she was getting sick. My mother and Lily burst into the bathroom, and I finally stood up for Indie.
Too little, too late.
“You went to your mother’s house. You said she wanted to apologize, but you went there to talk to her first. You came back… different. What happened, Teddy?”
Shame chokes me for a moment, and I squeeze my eyes closed, breathing through the nausea. I don’t believe my mother’s threats, not anymore, but I did.
And I feel ashamed that I did. I came home and pulled further into my shell, instead of talking to the woman I loved, who could have helped. My mother needs psychological help. She will never get it willingly, that would require her to admit she has a problem, and she’s too prideful for that, but…
I could have done so many things differently.
Indie’s eyes narrow more and more as I tell her about the kitchen knives incident.
“Oh my God, Teddy,” she rubs at her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I tell her the answer that Dr. Meyer finally helped me find—why didn’t I tell Indie about it?
“Because you would have solved the issue I wasn’t looking to solve. I was looking to bury it.” I tell Indie, who blinks. “Because that would have been difficult to solve. Easier to bury. I would have to actually admit there was a problem. Dr. Meyer says I tend to take the path of least resistance—”
“Dr. Meyer?”
“My therapist.”
Her brows raise. “… therapy?”
“Twice a week, for about five weeks now,” I say, with a bit of pride in my voice. “She specializes in enmeshment.”
“Enmeshment.”
I nod.
Indie’s face softens.
“How is it going?” Indie asks, her voice low and… caring. So caring, it almost makes me want to cry. I breathe deep through my nose to push back the sting of tears.
“It’s hard,” I say, and Indie nods. “But so necessary. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.”
Indie’s cheeks flush, and she averts her gaze. “I should–I-I could have encouraged—”
“No,” I say firmly, cutting off her taking responsibility for something that is my fault alone.
“I wouldn’t have listened, Indie. Worse, I would have…
I would have told my mother, and she would have defended me, making everything worse.
You did everything you could have. Dr. Meyer says most families have a kind of silent agreement to guard a secret or trauma they don’t want exposed. I was just following my family.”
Indie nods once.
“Did you know that I did a rotation in the ED?” Indie says, clearing her throat.
I nod, remembering her telling me one night, after I was both amazed and horrified by the amount of school and dedication to become a doctor.
“People were so full of shame when they would come in because of drugs or alcohol or because they got injured doing something very illegal. I never cared about why they were there, what steps led to them coming in—overdosing, or bleeding out because they had nicked an artery from trespassing or robbery. I just wanted to help them. We could discuss why later, I just needed to help them.”
Compassion bleeds from every word, and my chest feels so tight.
“Sometimes we get in our own way,” Indie shrugs sadly.
“That’s exactly it,” I whisper, nodding. “I chose familiarity instead of standing up for you. I was a stubborn ass.”
“A stubborn, manipulated, and abused ass,” she corrects, her lips twitching.
My mouth curves into a small grin.
“A stubborn, manipulated, and abused ass who treated the love of his life awfully and allowed others to treat her awfully too.”
That wipes the humor from her face, and it feels like the guillotine is hanging above my head. Her jaw tightens, and she crosses her arms once more.
“That brings me to my next question—Lily.”
Swallowing hard, I nod.
“Ask me anything.”
Indie looks right at me and—God, her eyes. Pain. Hurt. Heartbreak. I put those there. I made her feel that. And I fucking hate myself for it.
“Every time your mother called, and you went running,” Indie says, her voice sharp. “Lily was there, wasn’t she?”
“She was,” I admit, my mouth twisting. It’s a little embarrassing now to see how stupid and naive I was. “She was always there.”
Indie looks away for a moment, blinking a few times like she’s trying to push back tears. My chest burns, and I lift my hand to rub over that spot, searching for relief that I do not deserve, and it doesn’t come.
“What did you guys talk about?” she asks, keeping her voice flat. “What did you guys… do?”
And I answer her with complete honesty.
“I’d go over to see my mother, and Colleen and Lily would be there—conveniently.
Our mothers would disappear into the kitchen or the garden.
Lily and I would sit in the living room or the dining room.
Every conversation we had was just a variation of the same thing.
She talked. Mostly about her divorce and her ex-husband. ”
“And how did you respond?” Indie asks, still not looking at me.
I wait.
My eyes stay on Indie, looking at her intently and waiting for her to meet my eyes.
And when she does, with hurt shining in them, I tell her.
“I talked about you.”
“He never appreciated anything I did, Theo!” Lily cried, delicately dabbing her eyes. “No matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough for him. He would pick apart my clothes, my cooking, my decorations… it was so awful!”
Sympathy swelled inside me at her sad words. Indie appreciated every little thing I did for her and told me so. It sucked to hear that others didn’t share that.
What Indie gave me was… I can’t even describe it accurately with words. She made me feel capable. She made me feel like I could do anything.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” I said honestly. “That sounds rough, but hey, you’re better off without him.”
“I just feel so down. Who’s going to want me? A divorcee before thirty. I’m pathetic.”
I looked over to the doorway, wondering if my mother and Colleen were going to come back from grabbing more wine. I already knew, though—probably not anytime soon. Lily looked at me sadly, and I sighed, giving her a small smile.
“You’re not pathetic. You walked away from a bad situation—that’s really admirable,” I said. “You should be proud.”
Lily beamed at me and shifted closer to me on my living room couch.
I shifted away, trying not to make it obvious.
“Why can’t all guys be like you?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I chuckled awkwardly, feeling a prickling sensation on my neck. I didn’t like where the conversation was going.
“No, I’m serious! You used to do the little things for me,” Lily grinned at me, shifting closer. “I miss that.”
Again, I shifted down a little further, wanting to put some space between us as I thought of her words.
By little things, I assumed she meant taking her out to eat at the local diner, or buying her flowers every now and again. Those felt like obligations, things my mom reminded me to do because Lily was my girlfriend.
“Yeah, well, I think it is the little things that count,” I smiled as I thought of my girlfriend.
“Indie really appreciates the little things. Little snacks or watching her favorite shows. Telling her when an artist is releasing an album she likes and buying it on vinyl for her. Keeping Red Bulls stocked for her. I think that’s one of the most important things in relationships. ”
I turned to look at Lily and caught a brief glimpse of an expression that made my stomach tighten. Irritation that shifted quickly to a friendly smile that looked a little too forced. I realized I may have made her jealous by bragging about what I did for my girlfriend.
“You… really like her, huh?”
“I love her,” I smiled, staring off into space and picturing the way I left Indie that morning before work.