16. “Daddy Issues” - The Neighborhood
“Daddy Issues” - The Neighborhood
Heath
The odds of landing alive from twenty-plus floors up aren’t high. The odds of landing on your feet are even slimmer. Even so, I peer out over the street below and give it five seconds of consideration.
The balcony-slash-terrace doesn’t provide the relief I thought it would. Sure, it gets me out of Pierce’s flat and away from everyone’s horrified pity, but it only serves to remind me of how far I am from being able to walk away if I wanted to.
Which I do. Very much.
I should’ve had a better story. Running into a doorjamb? What a plonker. While they definitely all believe I’m stupid enough to do it, one would have to be some kind of crazy-ass gymnast to be able to sustain a black eye simply from running into the frame of a bloody door.
I grip the glass partition separating me from what would be a gruesome death splattered on the pavement below, then lean back and stretch my triceps.
The surf was good today. I kept an eye on my phone, thinking Walker might text to ask about visiting the Archives, but she never did.
I probably scared her off at the club on Saturday .
The door behind me slides open. I brace myself for whatever onslaught is sure to follow. Maeve telling me to get back inside so we can finish the game. Pierce putting his arm around my shoulder and telling me to hang in there. Rhett cracking jokes about getting beat on by your dad.
I know it’s her without turning around. The unmistakable scent of coconut wafts on the slight breeze and directly into the part of my brain that makes bad decisions. I stay where I am, hands on the glass. If Maeve sent her out here to chastise me, she’ll have to do it facing my back.
Instead of keeping her distance, Walker sidles up next to me and takes the only spot remaining at the wall.
She doesn’t look at me, just props her arms on top of the glass and gazes out over the city.
We stay like that for thirty, sixty seconds?
I lose track of time, distracted as I am by the gentle heat of her and the way her scent is tickling my nose.
“This is a great view,” she says after a while.
I scan the skyline, the lake visible in the distance, the sun starting its descent. It’s actually pretty great, though I’d take the ocean a million times over the sight of the city.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.
She doesn’t turn to look at me. Maybe it’s easier that way. Did she draw the short straw? Is that why she’s out here?
“There’s nothing to say.” I take off my hat and let the breeze run through my hair before replacing it.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
This has always been the thing about Walker. She doesn’t push. If I don’t want to talk about something, she accepts that. I’ve missed that.
“I was drunk and said some things that set him off,” I offer.
She nods like she understands, even though she doesn’t. My dad’s an asshole, but at least he’s in my life, even if I wish he weren’t. She lives with the knowledge that her dad walked away from her .
“He doesn’t get to determine your worth.”
Her words are soft, but they carry a power punch directly to my heart. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her if I tried. She senses my gaze and meets it with her own. Those eyes that see everything, even the depths of my depravity.
She knows. She has to know. There’s no other explanation for what happened. But if she knows, then what is she doing out here, saying things like that?
I turn back to face the skyline. “Try telling him that.”
We’re both quiet for a few more minutes, letting the sounds of the city wash over us. I can sense every tiny movement she makes, like a seismometer detecting any shift within the earth’s crust.
“They just want to help, you know. Because they care,” she says.
I take a deep breath and let it out. “It only confirms the image they have of me in their heads.”
“And what’s that?”
I cut a glance at her. This time she doesn’t look. “Poor Heath, can’t even stand up for himself.”
Her face pulls into a frown. “That’s not what they think.”
I breathe out a laugh and shake my head. She wouldn’t know. She’s been gone for two years.
“And anyway, it’s not true,” she continues. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
“Come on, Walker. I don’t need your pity too.”
“It’s not pity. It’s the truth.”
We’re facing each other now. “Can you honestly say that you haven’t felt sorry for me?” My words come out a little sharper than I intend, but I’m not in the mood for lies and pity tonight.
“I don’t feel sorry for you, but I do wonder what the hell you’re thinking, still living there.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t concern you.”
An entire circus of emotions parade across her face. “I loved you!”
My breath gets caught in my throat. “How is that relevant?” I croak.
“Because you’re implying that the guy I was in love with, the man I thought I would marry, was nothing but a mirage. Do you think I’m so stupid that you could fool me for four years?”
I can’t look at her anymore. I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers. I can’t afford to go there with her. It’s too fucking dangerous. “Of course not,” I whisper.
Her memory has clouded with time, softening the sharp edges of what she thought of me when we were still together. Being slapped with an alternate reality now is the universe’s way of sticking one to me.
There are a million places my mind could go to. For some reason it chooses Switzerland, maybe because I was staring at that keychain the other night. Memories become glossy with time—Walker’s recent revelation is proof of that—but that trip was fucking magical.
I took her to the Abbey Library, and you’d think the girl had never seen books before.
She walked around like she was on a bloody cloud, her eyes so full of joy it made you happy just to look at her.
That night we lay on the grassy bank near the cabin the six of us had rented together.
Everyone else was inside, their laughter spilling out through the open window.
We were staring at the stars, and I was pointing out different constellations to her, when she turned her head to face me and said simply, “I love you.”
We hadn’t said it to each other yet. We’d only been officially together a few weeks. But I didn’t need more time. I knew at that moment she was the only thing I’d ever want for all eternity.
Everything that happened later had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her. Not every heart is meant to hold that much emotion. And not every person deserves to be that happy .
We’ve both turned back toward the city. I let my eyes wander down to the top of her head. She stands a foot shorter than me. I used to love nothing more than bending over to capture that sweet mouth with my own.
She turns then, as though she can read my thoughts. “They’re waiting for us inside. Maeve wants to plan the takedown of the candle lady.”
“I’ll be there soon,” I say. I can’t go back yet. “Do you want to go to the Archives tomorrow?”
We arrange to meet there in the morning. I’m determined to not be late this time. She slips back through the door, and I’m left with a giant crater where my heart used to be.
A few more minutes pass before they send Rhett to get me. He stands beside me and swings his arm around my shoulders. “You okay, mate?”
Why does everyone keep asking me that? “I’m fine.”
He pats my shoulder a few times. The guy’s fucking turning into Pierce. I shrug out from beneath his arm. He doesn’t notice, just turns and grins at me. “It looks like you’re doing a good job of getting her on the hook. It will make the aftermath even more beautiful.”
It takes me a minute to figure out who and what he’s talking about. Then it crashes in with the grace of a Saint Bernard.
Walker. The revenge plot.
Heath, you fucking bellend.
I’ve been romanticizing the past when the future hasn’t changed. Walker is still leaving in a few weeks. It’s time to get my head out of my ass, or she’ll be taking my heart on the plane with her.