48. Ava
FORTY-EIGHT
AVA
It’s funny how when a person’s life falls apart, the most minute details are what float to the surface and get stuck there. That’s the only explanation I have for why, when I leave Tyler’s home, I remember Beckett’s text from hours ago.
So I steer the car in that direction. It’s nonsensical, and I might be turned away, but if I can’t be with the people I love, then it’s the only place I want to be right now.
I glance back at the house and suck in a sharp lungful of air, then send up a prayer, begging whoever is listening to make this easier.
It’s useless.
It’s a lesson I learned when I lost Andrea.
Time may change the way the ache feels, but it never takes it away. Being apart from loved ones, regardless of the reason, if the love is true, honest, and unconditional—like the kind Tyler has given me—is the most painful form of torture.
God, it’s like a knife to the chest, knowing what I’m doing to him. If I truly believe that he loves me that way, how could I put him through this pain? How could I just walk away?
Despite the thoughts swirling in my mind, I press harder on the gas.
Because as much as I love him and would avoid hurting him if I could, I’m a mother first. Josie has to come first. And she needs him more than he needs me. I won’t be the reason she loses the only family she’s truly ever had.
I know how devastating that kind of loss is. Andrea was my family.
Sure, our parents were there too, and they’re good people. They did everything they could to keep our family whole. They love me. I matter to them, despite the thoughts my mind conjures up in my darkest moments. But the grief we suffered—the living, breathing kind—altered our lives forever. They grieved my sister even while she was alive, like they knew they would one day bury her.
I didn’t.
Her death shocked me. I gave her blood, organs, bone marrow, and every dream, laugh, and moment I had.
But I failed. And I’ve yet to accept it. Maybe that’s why I still text her. Or maybe it’s because I spent my whole life sharing every moment with her until two years ago, and now, it’s the only thing I have left. My side of the story. Because her story ended.
A sob racks my body, causing the car to swerve.
Headlights illuminate the road before me, snapping me out of my despair. There’s nothing I can do but keep moving forward.
The blanket is scratchy, yet I pull it up to my nose. Samantha is on a date, but the rest of the girls are at a sex toy store, searching for the rabbit vibrator. My tears are never-ending, but I can’t help laughing when Charlotte makes a comment about how cute the pink vibrator in Carrie’s hand is. When Carrie points out that it’s got a remote, though, I cry harder.
I’m so pathetic. Am I really watching Sex and the City and crying over memories of Tyler and his remote?
“What the fuck? Is that a—oh god, are you watching porn in the children’s hospital movie theater?”
I practically jump out of my seat at the voice behind me. Fortunately, as I fumble with the TV remote, I manage to hit pause. I can’t remember off the top of my head what happens next. For all I know, Charlotte could be giving a blow job, and then I’ll never recover.I dart a look at the screen, where a giant pink vibrator is now illuminated and standing tall, then at Beckett Langfield, whose face is as pink as the toy.
Clearly distressed, he runs his hands through his hair. “Liv always tells me not to get involved in other people’s love lives. I’ve never agreed until this moment. Fuck, Ava. My eyes are bleeding.”
The loudest snort bursts from me, and I drop my head back, the tears I’ve been crying turning into laughter. For a solid minute, I giggle uncontrollably. At the absurdity of this moment. At Beckett’s face. At the pink dildo on the screen.
When I finally get my breathing under control, Beckett is seated beside me, wearing a slight smile.
Silence settles between us, and I resist the urge to slide under the blanket completely to hide. “How’d you find me?”
“Your husband is very worried about you.”
Hands in my lap, I pick at a piece of lint on the coarse fabric of the blanket. “He called you?”
Beckett coughs out a laugh. “No. He sent a message in the group chat, asking the guys if you’d contacted any of their women. Since I know how much the movie theater meant to you as a kid, I had a feeling I might find you here.”
My breath catches. “This was your first stop? That’s impressive.”
He shrugs. “No. First, I called Hannah.”
I smile. “And she told you I wasn’t responding to her texts.”
My phone was blowing up, so I turned it off a while ago. I’m surprised that Tyler reached out to the guys. He keeps his emotions so close to the vest. I figured he’d shut down rather than ask for help. Maybe if he were the only one hurting, that’s what he’d do. But knowing Tyler, he contacted them out of concern for me. There isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for me, even if it’s asking for help.
“What’s going on? Why are you hiding here watching”—Beckett winces at the screen—“that?”
“Tyler found out about Andrea. That she died.”
Turning to assess me, he frowns. “He didn’t know?”
I shrug, then let my shoulders sag. “No one knows.” Now he’s really confused. “I didn’t want to be known as the girl whose sister died. When I met the girls, they were fun and carefree. So different from what I was used to. They’d talk hot guys and dating and sex?—”
Beckett’s face scrunches.
Grimacing, I lower my gaze to the blanket again. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Believe me, I spend enough time around Sara to know what you girls talk about. It’s amazing, really, how good she is at her job. The woman is the most unfiltered person I’ve ever met.”
I chuckle at the thought of her and all the ridiculous things she says. I sober quickly, though, realizing that now they’ll all know. About Andrea and that I’ve been keeping secrets from them for all these years. And for what? They would have been supportive. There’s no question. Our friendships are based on more than just gossip and fun conversations. The whole group rallied around Sara when we learned about her affair with the Bolts’ former coach. And when Aiden revealed he was having anxiety attacks, the guys stood by him and made sure he got the help and medication he needed.
And when I broke down over Josie time and again, they sat with me in my sorrow and comforted me.
They probably knew from the beginning that Tyler and I didn’t get married for love, yet they said nothing. They let me find my way, they teased me, and they showed up.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I meet Beckett’s gaze. “I really screwed up.”
With an arm around my shoulders, he pulls me into a side hug. “We all do. So how are you going to fix it?”
Heart aching, I bite my lip. “That’s just it. I can’t. Tyler and I got married so that the judge would be more likely to approve the adoption. I would have done anything for her.” I glance up at Beckett. “I still would.”
He gives me a small smile. “Of course you would. Because you’re her mother.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Maybe I wanted to be, but I never truly was. ”
“Why? Because she’s not your flesh and blood? What the hell does any of that have to do with it? Winnie, Finn, and Addie are just as much my kids as June and Maggie. Sure, I may not have been there when they were born, but there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for them. Just like you said.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t completely fuck it up. No one was telling Beckett Langfield he couldn’t be those kids’ father. The judge is going to take one look at the text messages to my sister and know that not only am I mentally unstable, but I’m a liar.”
“Do you love Tyler?”
Incredulous, I scowl. “What does that matter?”
“Answer the question.”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“And do you love Josie?”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
Silently, Beckett arches a brow, and for the space of a few heartbeats, he only watches me. “My marriage was also a contract.”
Stunned, I gape at him.
“It isn’t anymore,” he says, almost affronted. “Livy is my entire world. Our family is my entire world. But yeah, the way our marriage began was a little suspect.” He smirks, like maybe he’s remembering the times before it became the real thing. “And her ex tried to go to the press about it.”
“But I never?—”
“Because I have the best fixers in the world. And the best family.” Beckett laces his fingers, forearms resting on his knees. “Lucky for you, you’re one of my people, and I always take care of my people.”
“ Beckett .” Tears fill my eyes. I doubt he can really do what he’s offering, but the sentiment is beautiful, nonetheless. “It’s too late.” I shrug. “The judge already knows.”
The glint in Beckett’s eye means he’s certain he’ll get his way. I’ve seen it time and again when Liv is fighting him on something at work. And honestly, he does get his way a lot. Though in the end, he’s usually gotten Liv on his side. He’s pretty good at making sure she’s happy. “It’s never too late, Ava. You just have to be willing to fight. So tell me, are Tyler, Josie, Scarlett, and Brayden worth it? ”
The answer is easy. Even if I still don’t believe it’ll fix anything, Beckett is right. I may have lost my sister, but I fought for her until the end. How could I not do the same for the people who are just as much my family as she was?
Hours later I’m lying in Hannah’s spare bedroom, exhausted. As expected, the girls showed up and loved me hard. I hold my phone in one hand, not quite ready to talk to Tyler yet. Not when I don’t know how tomorrow will go.
I open the message I received from my sister’s number and reread the words.
Andrea: I know I haven’t always been the person you need, and for that, I’m so sorry. But I love you and I’m so proud of you. When you’re ready for me to come meet your babies, I promise I’ll be better to them than I was to you.
Throat clogged with emotion and tears clouding my vision, I type out what will likely be the last message I ever send to this number.
Me: Mommy, I need you.