Chapter 7 #3
“I am.” My voice shakes with emotion. “I had too much to drink when I knew better. I knew things weren’t right in my head, but I didn’t want to ask for help.
I didn’t have to go to the fundraiser. I could have stayed home.
And I didn’t have to take Vince’s gun and try to kill his friend.
” Tears spill down my cheeks. “I’m so ashamed of what I did.
I used to think I was a good person. But I’m not.
And maybe I deserve everything that’s happening to me now. ”
“Mel.” Tyler jabs the record button and pushes his phone to the side. Then he closes the distance between us and pulls me into his arms. “You are a good person. And you do not deserve what happened to you. Not even for a second.”
Wrapped in his strong embrace, I allow myself a moment to just absorb it.
To push aside the haunting memories and clinging guilt I can’t seem to shed.
I memorize how it feels to be this close to him, breathing in the fresh scent of his soap and feeling the steady beat of his heart against mine.
I let myself appreciate, just for a second, how right this feels.
How things just feel better with his arms around me.
“I mean it,” Tyler continues. With one hand, he rubs a slow circle on my back. His breath whispers across my hair. “You are a good person, Mel. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even yourself.”
A lump swells in my throat. Tilting my head back to look at him, I ask, “How can you say that? Knowing what I did?”
“Because.” He sets me away from him slightly, but doesn’t release me.
“First off, a bad person wouldn’t have stopped in the middle of a storm to help people she’d never met.
A bad person wouldn’t put herself in danger for them.
A bad person wouldn’t take better care of her dog than anyone I know.
A bad person wouldn’t drive to Vermont once a month to volunteer at the dog shelter there. ”
“How did you know about the shelter?” But I quickly realize the answer. He talked to Enzo about me. Which makes sense—of course he’d talk to his former teammate before coming out here—but I can’t deny the painful sting that comes with knowing he didn’t really trust me.
Guilt darkens his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mel. I did call Enzo to ask about you. It wasn’t—”
“I get it.” I pull away from him. “Of course you’d want to ask about me. Find out if he thinks I’m still dangerous.”
“It wasn’t that.” Tyler catches my hand and wraps his around it. “I called him after we met in Long Lake. Not because I didn’t believe you. It was just...”
“Why else, then?” I retort. I can’t explain why I feel betrayed, especially when I have no reason to.
He goes quiet for a few seconds. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. That’s why.”
It’s so far from what I expected him to say, I can’t form a response right away. Finally, I manage a weak, “What?”
His eyes are more gold than green as they meet mine. “I kept thinking about you. I’d see a commercial about a dog and it would remind me of you telling me about Oscar. Or I’d read a funny-sounding word and wonder if you’d like it. Like ragamuffin and shenanigans.”
“You thought about me?” A beat later, the rest of what he said registers. “Ragamuffin? Shenanigans?”
Tyler gives me a sheepish smile. “Yeah. I don’t know if they’re funny enough. But I saw them in a crossword and they reminded me of you.”
Tamping down the pleased feeling growing inside me, I say, “But you must have doubted me, then. If you asked Enzo about me.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t believe you,” he explains. “But I’ve known Enzo for a long time. And I guess… I wanted to know if what I was feeling was right. Or if I’d imagined the connection we had in Long Lake.”
Thinking about it, I can’t really blame him. If the positions were reversed, and I was close friends with someone who knew Tyler, I probably would have done the same.
Okay, not probably. I would have. Because I haven’t stopped thinking about Tyler since Long Lake, either.
“Okay,” I concede. “I understand why you called him. But…” I let out a nervous breath. “What did he say?”
“He said exactly what I thought he would. That you were a good person. That you went through a really hard time, but you did everything you could to get through it. He told me you come to Rory’s shelter once a month to help out, plus donating your time and money to the shelter in Northville, as well. ”
“I like the dogs,” I reply quietly. “And I like Rory. At first, I helped because I felt bad. But now I go because I like spending time with her.”
“Mel.” Tyler brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Do you really think Rory would let you come to her shelter if she didn’t trust you? Do you think Gage would let her? And what about Enzo? Do you think he would have told me all that if he didn’t believe it?”
I bite my lip. “No. I guess not.”
“No,” he repeats. “They wouldn’t. Because they see you for who you are. Not a villain. But a person who went through something terrible and got sick because of it. A strong person who made a mistake but worked to get past it. A good person, who deserves good things in her life. Like Oscar.”
Sniffling, I nod. “Rory wanted me to have him. She said she thought he would help.”
“Right.” Tyler tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “You’re not the villain, Mel. You never were. Okay?”
I want to believe him. But it’s hard.
“I get it,” he says. His gaze is dark and solemn. “More than you know. Grief does things to you. It makes you consider things you never would have before. But if you let people in, let them help you, it can get better. It does get better.”
“What do you mean, consider things you wouldn’t have before?” I ask with concern. “Did something happen?”
“I’ll tell you about it,” Tyler replies. “I promise. But not now.”
“Why—”
“Because I think we’ve talked about enough heavy stuff for the day.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek again, catching the lingering dampness there. “And too much stress isn’t good for you.”
“What about the rest of your questions?”
“You’ve given me a lot of information already. Tomorrow, we can finish. But for tonight, I think it’s time to move on.”
Part of me wants to insist on getting it over with.
Part of me wants to push Tyler into sharing his own story, which I’m sure includes Kaia’s death, and possibly the limp he hasn’t talked about yet.
But I won’t. Instead, I’m going to relinquish control to Tyler and do what he suggests. “Alright,” I reply. “Tomorrow’s fine.”
Tyler gives me a long look. Then he says, “Would you like to watch some TV with me? Not too much. But maybe an episode of Parks and Rec. And I can grab some cannolis, if you like. What do you think?”
My heart gives a hopeful jump. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I did, would I?”
“True,” I concede. “But I’m still pretty stuffed. Maybe we could just watch TV?”
“That works,” he replies with a smile. Then he frames my waist with his hands and moves me to one side of the bed.
As he settles onto the mattress beside me, the hem of his pants lifts to reveal a glint of shiny black, but he quickly tugs it back down.
Understanding crashes into me, shattering my own worries.
The limp.
I wasn’t wrong about him being hurt. I just had no idea how bad it was.
Oh, Tyler.
My heart hurts as I realize just how hard he’s had it. He didn’t just lose his wife. He lost his leg as well.
Tyler glances at me, but I pretend not to have seen. Instead, I busy myself clicking through the streaming services with the concentration of a brain surgeon. “Let’s watch Ancient Aliens,” I announce. “I’m feeling like a change. And it’s one of your favorite shows. It only seems fair.”
He gives his pant leg another quick tug. “Are you sure? I don’t mind watching Parks and Rec. Or The Office.”
I scoot closer to him, so our hips bump together. “I’m sure.”
After a moment, he smiles. Then his arm comes around me, hugging me to his side. “Okay,” he replies. “Ancient Aliens it is.”
And despite the tumult of emotions from before, plus the realization of only moments ago, all at once, everything feels right again.
Maybe Tyler’s right, I muse as the show starts to play. Maybe I am a good person. And maybe I do deserve good things. Like this.