Chapter 21
twenty-one
GAGE
It’s not that I’m surprised to get a text from Ava—we’ve texted daily since she left for Boston. I’m just surprised at the timing and the request.
Ava
Tell me something good.
I know she had her family’s Christmas Eve party this evening—something she was secretly hopeful would turn out better than she thought. But this text makes me think she was right to prepare for the worst with her parents. I still haven’t gotten the full story from her, but I’m starting to realize that she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
I glance at the time and notice it’s only eight. The party should still be going strong right now, and unless she was able to sneak her phone down to the party with her—she’s not there. My concern rises at that thought, but I give her an answer anyway.
My parents are back together.
I look up from my spot in the family room to my parents in the kitchen, where they work together to finish loading the dishwasher. They’re laughing, their love for each other shining through their eyes.
Since I’ll be working tomorrow, we made plans to have dinner this evening, just the three of us. I thought about bailing on them as I still wasn’t over being left in the dark about their relationship, but I realized it was their decision how they handled it. And honestly—with their track record—I can’t blame them for wanting to keep it a secret while they figured out if it would last.
I wanted to stay angry with them, but watching them this evening? I think they might actually make it this time.
I don’t think either of them stopped loving each other, but they got married and had a child young—before they really knew who they were as individuals. I think the time apart helped them realize who they are as people first. You have to know who you are before you can merge your life with someone else.
Ava
I’m going to assume if that was your response to “tell me something good” that you’re happy about it.
I don’t know how I feel about it, but they’re happy, so I’m trying to be.
Shouldn’t you be at a party right now?
The three little dots bounce for a solid minute before her response comes through.
Ava
I don’t know.
I sit straighter in my seat, my gut telling me it’s something more than just her parents. I contemplate texting her back but go with my instinct to call her.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my parents as I stand from the couch and move to the stairs, taking them two at a time and booking it to my old bedroom.
Once I’m behind the closed door, I hit her contact, pacing the room while I wait for her to answer.
“You weren’t supposed to call me.” Her voice is quiet when she answers, almost inaudible.
“What happened?” I’m instantly on edge, hating that she’s so far away and clearly upset.
“It’s nothing.” I hear the tears in her voice, even when she tries to hide them with a cough.
“Rebel. We haven’t lied to each other yet. Let’s not start now.” I collapse to the foot of the bed, my body stiff as if waiting for impact. “Your honesty and ability to ask for what you want is one of the things I like most about you.”
“You’ll tell me to call the police,” she whispers.
My body practically folds in half. My elbows rest on my knees, and my head hangs low. “I am the police.” I keep my voice light but feel the fear coursing through me. There are very few good reasons a person needs the police.
“You can’t help me all the way in Maryland.”
“Rebel.” It’s a desperate plea. For what, I’m not entirely sure.
She’s right, of course. Legally there’s nothing I can do for her while I’m in Maryland and she’s in Massachusetts, but I definitely can’t help if I don’t know what happened.
“Gage, please don’t ask me.” She takes a deep breath. “You’re right. We’ve never lied to each other, and I don’t want to start now, but I can’t—” She hiccups, her words cutting off. I hear the panic rising in her voice, and I can’t stand the thought of her being there alone.
“Just tell me you’re okay,” I beg.
It takes her a minute and a few deep breaths, but when she speaks, her voice sounds a little steadier. “Physically, I’m fine.”
More than anything, I want to be by her side, making sure whoever hurt her can’t do it again, but for some reason, she picked me as the person to talk to. I fight like hell and ignore the urge to push for more information.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Can you just talk to me?” Her voice is soft again as if she’s afraid I’ll deny her.
I don’t think I could deny her anything. “Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”
“No. I just don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now.”
“I found out about my parents getting back together because my mom wanted to give me a hard time about you.” I don’t know why, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind, so I roll with it.
“What?” she gasps.
“Yeah. She found out we had dinner with my dad and decided it meant something much more than it did. She was jealous that he met you and she hadn’t.” I force a laugh, even though I don’t feel it.
“How did that lead to your parents dating?”
“I told her we were just friends and she didn’t believe me since we’re seen having dinner at Murphy’s once a week.” I sink to the floor at the foot of the bed, my back resting against it and my knees pulled up. “I pointed out that she and my dad have dinner regularly, and that’s when they both got fidgety.”
She hums. “The telltale sign that someone is hiding something.”
“Exactly. Turns out they’ve been seeing each other off and on since their divorce. Though, this is the longest stretch, coming in at six months. My sister’s known for three.”
“How does she feel about it?”
“She’s actually quite happy about it. So are my brothers. I’m apparently the only one who didn’t react well.”
“No one would react well if they stumbled upon the information instead of being told directly about it. How are you supposed to react to finding out something before the person is ready to tell you? There was a reason they were keeping it a secret.”
“Exactly!” I love that Ava gets it. “Granted, I didn’t really let them explain anything, but in conjunction with Asher not telling me about his relationship, I just felt shitty and wasn’t totally open to hearing what they had to say,” I admit.
“Asher has a secret relationship, too?”
I hear movement on her side, and it sounds like she’s turned the call on speakerphone.
“Yeah. I’ve apparently been very open about my views on relationships and love, leading my brother to believe I would think poorly of him if he told me he fell in love with someone.”
“How do you feel about love and relationships?” Her voice is muffled as if she’s moved away from the phone.
“I’m not sure I believe in love,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t have any examples of lasting love, and I struggle to believe you can just walk away from someone you claim to have loved. And that’s all I’ve ever really seen—people saying they love each other but still walking away. That doesn’t sound like love to me. That sounds like lust or infatuation.”
There’s more movement and rustling through the phone, but I hear her clearly. “And relationships?”
“My dad has been in a lot of them, like almost always in a relationship and never by himself. Or at least that’s what it looked like to me. Turns out he wasn’t in as many relationships as it seemed, but that’s a conversation for another day.” I release a heavy sigh. “I guess I talked about how I thought Dad needed to stop being in a relationship and just spend time with himself often enough that my brothers assumed I felt everyone should be alone.”
“But you don’t think everyone should be alone?”
“Of course not. Look, at the end of the day, I don’t care what anyone does with their own life. As long as they aren’t hurting anyone, you do you. When it comes to the people I love and care about? I’m going to support them in whatever makes them happy.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second.” There’s such conviction in her tone, and it startles me slightly that she can feel so strongly about anything regarding me.
We’re both quiet for a moment, but I don’t let it last long, remembering that she needs distraction from her thoughts. “I guess it just felt like everyone around me was keeping a secret, and it put me in a weird headspace.”
“Who wouldn’t be in a weird place?”
The rustling is back, and my curiosity wins out. “What are you doing?”
“I’m packing up my apartment in Harborview. Well, at least the things I care about. I can’t stay here any longer than I need to. So I’m just going to throw what I care about in a bag, pack my car, and start driving. I don’t know why I booked a flight for Friday. I should have always planned on driving. I know I can get around town without a car, but it’s winter—a car will make my life so much easier.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ava ramble. She’s usually much more organized with her words. If I were anyone else, I might have been able to forget the reason I was on the phone with her in the first place, but the rambling would have reminded me instantly.
“Are you okay to drive?” I ask a little hesitantly. I don’t want her to go back to wherever she was mentally when she called me, but her safety is far more important than that at the moment.
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t stay here.” Silence takes over for a moment. “I’ll be smart. If I get tired, I’ll find somewhere safe to stop for a little bit before I keep going.”
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“Just for a little bit longer. Tell me more about your siblings.”
And I do. I end up talking to her for another hour. I tell her about every facet I can think of, all the little details. How I felt when each of them came home, how protective I feel, how much I hated being in the army because it took me away from them, and how I loved it because it felt like my purpose.
I keep talking to her until she’s packed up her car and is driving away from Harborview.
“Call me if you need to. It doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“I will,” she promises.
“And let me know when you get home?”
“Of course.”
“Be safe.” I know I’m just dragging this out, but for some reason, I’m not ready to hang up—even though we’ve been on the phone for almost two hours.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “I don’t know why, but you were the first person who came to mind.”
“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what—” I cut myself off, not sure how to label us. Friends doesn’t feel right when I’m realizing friends is the last thing I want to be with Ava Day. Lovers doesn’t feel right when I’m realizing I want more than that. Somewhere along the way, this thing with Ava has started to feel like a real relationship, and I’m starting to realize I don’t hate it. “Just be safe, and call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
We hang up, and I sit there for another minute before slowly getting up from the floor. Sitting on the floor was probably the worst idea. I’ll be feeling it in my back for days, but I wouldn’t take it back for anything.
When I make it downstairs, I find my parents cuddled up on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life . At the sound of my steps, Mom reaches for the remote, pausing the movie while Dad looks over his shoulder, concern etched on his face.
“Is everything okay? Your mother and I were worried.”
“Yeah.” I stay where I am for a minute, thinking about how I want to play this. I’m not known for serious conversations. I play things off like they don’t affect me. Though, I don’t know how true that’s been lately. I’ve had more serious conversations in the last month than usual.
I shuffle over to the armchair, slowly lowering myself to the seat. I don’t know why I’m nervous to have this conversation, but I can’t expect people to be open with me if I don’t do the same in return.
“Ava was supposed to be at her parents' Christmas Eve party this evening, but she texted, and I was worried. I went upstairs, only expecting to talk to her for a few minutes.”
I’m speaking more to the floor than to my parents, but I still hear the concern in my dad’s voice when he answers. “Is she all right?”
“I don’t know,” I worry. “She said she was fine physically but didn’t want to talk about what happened.”
“You talked for nearly two hours,” Mom points out.
“She wanted someone to talk to.” I shrug.
I see the two of them share a look, communicating something, but I don’t know what it is.
“Are you okay?” Dad asks, turning back to me.
“I don’t know,” I repeat. “I’m worried, but there’s nothing I can do from here or without knowing what happened. She was in the car and on her way home when we got off the phone.”
“Should she be driving?”
“Probably not, but what else is she supposed to do?” I ask. “She said she couldn’t stay there, and if that was going to cause her more stress…” I let my words trail off. I hate the situation, but the options are limited.
“You’re right,” Mom says, placing a hand on Dad’s forearm.
“I think I’m going to head home.” I stand from my seat. “I’m sorry about the interruption.”
“Don’t apologize,” Dad says as he stands from the couch, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’m proud of you.”
“You’ll stop by tomorrow before your shift?” Mom asks as she follows Dad’s lead and pulls me into a hug of her own.
“Yeah.” I give her a peck on the cheek and squeeze Dad’s shoulder before moving toward the door.
When I get I home I take a quick shower and climb into bed, but I can’t shut my brain off. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, worrying about Ava, and wondering what the fuck happened with her parents.
It’s four in the morning when I give up and climb out of bed, heading to the basement—my at-home gym—where I fully intend to work out every pent-up emotion I’m feeling. My body will yell at me tomorrow, but I can’t sit still, so this is the best option for me until Ava lets me know she made it home safely.