Chapter 16 #2
Because I’m an adult and I make my own decisions...
And also, my parents are dead so they can’t care about what I’m doing.
Not that my father would if he were alive.
My mother, though… if she were alive, I never would have caused her the stress of doing this job.
I would have done something safe. What? I don’t know. Whatever she wanted, I guess.
“I won’t. Promise.”
So easy to say that word, though? So easy to promise something, but apologizing is impossible?
Pathetic.
“Thank you,” he says. “She brings it up at least once a week and almost sends herself into a panic attack over it.”
“It’s a dangerous job, so I understand that. I bet my mom would be worried too.”
“Would be?”
Fuck. Did I say that?
“Uh, yeah. She died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. My parents died too.”
I remember him telling me that before… at the bar, maybe?
“Was it recent?” I ask.
I don’t know many people who don’t have their parents, and it’s just one more thing that makes me want to be close to Miles.
He understands not having parents at a point in your life that can be tough.
You need them when you’re young, but you need them when you’re older, too.
They’ve already been through this phase in life, and who better to ask for advice than them?
“Almost eight years ago. Audrey was pregnant. The stress actually put her into early labor, and she ended up in the hospital for a while.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It was, but we made the best of it.”
“You do that a lot, don’t you?”
“Do what?” he asks.
“Be positive for everyone around you. See the best in things.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, then says, “I try. It comes easier for me than it does for other people, I guess.”
“Do you ever feel sad?” I ask, my voice low. Almost a whisper, as if the words don’t want to come out.
“Sometimes.”
“What makes you sad?”
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I worry about my sister and Noah a lot. She’s a nurse. Her job is stressful. I don’t think she’s actually happy with her life; she’s just surviving, you know? But she won’t do anything about it.”
I know that feeling all too well… because it’s me. My life. Exactly what I’m doing.
“Tell me what your perfect life would be like,” I say as I settle into the couch and lower the volume on the TV. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on my chest to listen to Miles speak.
We talked about this a little bit the other day, but I want to hear more. I want to know the kind of life Miles imagines living.
“I like where I live, but ideally, I’d love to have side-by-side houses with Audrey in a neighborhood with the best schools. I want a dog, something big and cuddly. Like a St. Bernard, maybe.”
I huff a laugh. “They’re bigger than you.”
“That’s the point,” he says, and I hear the smile in his voice. “I want kids. At least two. Maybe three. To get married.”
Talking about it today, he sounds more confident. Either because it’s easier telling me or because he’s thought about it since we spoke about this last time and now he’s sure. Hearing him talk about this is like my favorite bedtime story. It puts happy images and thoughts in my head.
“Marriage isn’t everything everyone makes it out to be,” I say with a sigh.
“I think marriage is what you make of it,” he says quickly. “It can be hard if you don’t work at it, but it can also be beautiful.”
Beautiful… I used to think the same. Once upon a time, when I was naive.
“I want that for my sister, too, even though she’d tell you she doesn’t. I know she’s lying. Noah’s father is a prick. She hasn’t heard a word from him since he was born, so she gives Noah all of her attention.”
“Is that why she doesn’t date? Is she too busy?”
“That’s her excuse, but she admitted to me the other day she’s scared Noah will get attached. And then it won’t work out, and…”
“And then her son is upset and missing someone who has no obligation to be in his life. Yeah, that’s rough.”
“What about you?” he asks.
“What about me?”
“Your life. What would it look like ideally?”
I take a while to think about that because I don’t know anymore, but I worry that being truthful will make him ask more questions. I have this bad habit of telling him too much, and I don’t want to bring my marriage into this. It’ll ruin it.
I don’t want him to run. It’s selfish, and I’m putting him in a position he may not want to be in. I know that’s wrong, but… I want something good for me, just once. Miles is that.
“I just want to be happy,” I say.
“Well, yeah,” he says. “But what would make you happy?”
“I think that changes by the day. Sometimes it’s as simple as getting through a shift without anyone dying.”
“JJ… I’m sorry.”
“I love my job,” is what I say. “I do, it’s just that sometimes it’s a lot, and some days it’s hard to focus on anything else, even after my shift is over.”
“Maybe—never mind,” he says.
“Tell me.”
“No, never mind.”
“Miles, please?”
He sighs. “I don’t want to sound rude, but every time I get personal, you run away. And I really like talking to you, JJ.”
My chest aches.
“I like talking to you too,” I admit. “I promise I won’t run. I’m very comfortable on my couch. Tell me what you were going to say.”
He takes another heavy breath. “I was just going to say that maybe if you found the right person, you wouldn’t have to carry all that weight alone.
Maybe coming home to something other than an empty house with no television would make you a little happier.
Someone you could talk to. Opening up isn’t easy, I get that, but it could help. ”
There’s a heavy weight on my chest, like the phone suddenly gained a thousand pounds, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I clear my throat and try a couple of times before the words come out.
“I put up my television today,” I say, trying to be funny.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you did say that.” He huffs a laugh, but he doesn’t think this is funny either.
“My life is so fucked up,” I whisper, the emotion back. I’m staring at the TV, but it’s all blurry.
“You can talk to me about it.”
I shake my head, not even knowing where to begin.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?” He’s still being gentle, but he’s growing frustrated with me. Miles will be just another thing that I fuck up. And since I already know that he’s going to go away at some point, I give him a little bit of my truth.
“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”