Chapter 32
THEA
One fun fact I never thought I’d have to learn?
When you’re in your late twenties, sleeping on an airport seat is not an acceptable choice.
My back is aching so bad I don’t know if I’ll ever stand properly again.
A crick in my neck is forcing me to keep it tilted just slightly to the left, making the world around me lopsided.
By the time I dropped off Vaughn’s rental car at the Asheville airport, TSA was closed for the night.
Getting a hotel room was out of the question after draining my account for this plane ticket, so I found a seat by the baggage claim carousels and fell into a sleep that included mutilated versions of all the best moments from the week.
Baking with Owen, until Diana kicks in the door and drags me out by my hair, or us together in the barn, only to have it collapse, burying Owen and making it impossible to get to him.
When the sun rises, I drag myself to the TSA checkpoint, turning my phone back on to access my ticket. Messages flood in. Owen’s name over and over again until it swims in my vision. I ignore it, scanning my ticket quickly and turning it back off.
I go through security, getting questioning looks from the agent who clocks my puffy eyes and splotchy face. It earns me a special pat-down, but I’d take anything to distract from the way my heart is back at the inn, leaving me with nothing to pump the blood through my veins.
I find another hard seat, wondering if I should grab a crappy airport sandwich from the little kiosk, but the idea of eating makes my stomach roil.
My eyes close, hoping for the smallest bit of rest after such a shitty night.
I’m drifting off, in that space between waking and dreaming where everything feels a little magical, when I hear my name.
It’s soft and kind, relieved, like the speaker has been searching for me all their life.
It feels like home. My lips lift, thanking my brain for making this dream pleasant—no angry mothers or murderous barns—when a hand closes over my shoulder.
My brain takes a few minutes to catch up, to recognize that I’m not, in fact, dreaming. Addy’s standing over my seat.
“You haven’t left yet,” she says.
“There were no flights until this afternoon,” I say, my brain struggling to catch up. “I’m sorry, I tried to leave sooner.”
She drops into the seat next to me. “I’m so sorry, Tia.”
I blink at her, my mind not at full operating capacity after a shitty night’s sleep. “You’re … I’m sorry, what?”
She takes my hand. “I never should have said what I said last ni—”
“But it’s true,” I cut in as my eyes flood with tears again. I’d have guessed I’d be too dehydrated at this point to produce more. “I am selfish.”
“No—”
I don’t let her finish, words pouring out as my breaths come too quickly.
“I’m not like Mom. I’m worse. She was sick.
Owen isn’t an addictive substance. He didn’t strip me of my free will.
It was all me, every moment where I could have walked away and chose not to. Every second was all my selfishness.”
“No,” Addy says, clutching my hands so hard it hurts.
“I’m the selfish one. I asked you to give up your long-term happiness so I could avoid a bit of discomfort.
I saw that this thing between you and Owen wasn’t temporary, and I ignored it because it was easier for me.
I hate myself for trying to take him away from you.
It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my paranoia that I’d lose Harrison because that’s what happens when I have something good.
It never lasts, and I’ve been waiting for months for the other shoe to drop. ”
I hate that she’s been fighting that fear, and I hate that I’m the reason she has it to begin with.
I suck in a shuddering breath. “I’m the other shoe.”
Addy releases a surprised laugh. “What?”
I want to laugh with her, but I can’t when I feel destroyed.
I can’t even look at her, staring instead at my ratty suitcase.
“I’m the reason we were moved so much. The reason you had so many of those good things stripped away.
The reason you weren’t adopted by the Fischers as a toddler.
Your life would have been so much better without me. ”
Addy kicks my suitcase out of the way before kneeling in front of me.
Her jaw is as tight as the grip on my hands.
“None of that is true. We lost every home because the system is broken, not because you are. You protected me. You’re the reason I’m still here.
I don’t think I’d have made it through our childhood alone. You saved me.”
I choke on a sob. As much as I want to believe her, I know the truth. “I know you feel guilty about last night and think you need to fix it, but you—”
Addy starts crying, too. “I do feel guilty, because you’ve been there my entire life, and I’m just realizing that I’ve never thanked you.
I never made it clear that you’ve been the light of my life.
I don’t know why the Fischers didn’t adopt us together, but they made a huge mistake missing out on a life with you.
And whatever their reasons were, I don’t care.
I wouldn’t trade you for anything, much less those extra years with them. ”
“But it’s not just them. It’s your future with Harrison, too.”
“I wouldn’t trade you for that either, but luckily I’ll never have to pick.
He’d never ask that of me because he knows how much I love you.
Things with Diana may not be what I was hoping for, but that’s her fault, not yours.
She’s the one who chose not to have a relationship with us.
And I think she’s going to regret it, because you’re the best person I know. ”
I nudge her with my knee, unable to stop the little smile curving my mouth. “Stop.”
“No, seriously!” She moves back to the seat next to me, tucking my curls behind my ear. “I hate that I’ve made you think there’s something wrong with you when you’re incredible. You’re hilarious and kind and loyal and perfect.”
“I’m really not. You’re the perfect one.”
“I try to be.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “But I’m broken. God, I’m just so fucking broken.”
Her voice cracks on the words, and my instinct is to jump in, to fix it.
I want to tell her that one difficult week during an extremely stressful time doesn’t make her broken.
But the pain on her face tells me this isn’t new, that maybe there are feelings Addy’s hidden even from me, and brushing off those emotions—even in an attempt to help—will just make her feel worse.
“Addy.” I take her hand back between mine as she blinks up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
“It’s about us,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You’re a pretty important part of us. How are you broken?”
The inhale is shaky, and for a second I don’t think she’ll answer.
“I don’t let people in because I’m terrified that when they see how messy I am, they’ll run away screaming, and then I get angry that no one cares about knowing me.
I ask for your help trying to connect with the family, then resent you for becoming close with them.
I worship you, then get jealous of the things I idolize. ”
I jolt at that statement. We’ve always been close, but I thought it was because I was the only consistent thing in her life. The idea that Addy—smart, capable, level-headed Addy—wants to be like me is incomprehensible.
Addy swipes away a tear. “I wish I was comfortable in my skin the way you are. You say what you think, and people love you for it. Meanwhile, I’m frozen, so nervous about saying something wrong that I don’t end up saying anything at all.
I’ve always wanted to be like you. I watched you with the Ellises all week, and seeing how those traits I’ve always tried—and failed—to imitate got this family to accept you …
I think I started resenting you without realizing it. It wasn’t fair.”
Her tears are falling in earnest now, a half dozen emotions warring on her face. Guilt and exhaustion and embarrassment and hurt. Regret. Loneliness.
“I’m not the easiest person to get to know,” Addy continues through her tears.
“I convinced myself that you being so open and wonderful was the reason they weren’t getting to know me, but it wasn’t you.
It was me. And I hurt the most important person in my life because I was too scared to admit I’m the problem. I’m so sorry, Tia.”
Warmth blossoms in my chest at her apology even as a knot forms in my throat.
I hate that she’s been fighting this without me, that I haven’t been able to help her through it.
Our fight hurt me in so many ways, but I can see her words for what they were—pain and fear, just like all those times I lashed out when I was younger.
There’s more for us to work through, but there’s one vital thing I need Addy to know before anything else. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re really easy to love.”
She lets out another sob. “Stop being nice when I was such a bitch to you.”
“I love you. And Harrison loves you, more than I knew was possible. And the rest of them will come around if you open yourself up a bit. Just pretend they’re me. Lord knows you’ve never had a hard time telling me how you feel.”
I laugh as Addy groans and drops her head to my shoulder. “I’d never forgive me.”
“Well, lucky for both of us, I’m not you.”
Addy pulls back to meet my gaze. “Please come back. I can’t get married without you. You’re my family, my true family.”
I force a tight smile. “I’m fine. I want you to have the beautiful wedding you’ve imagined with no mother-in-law drama. You go, take a million pictures, and show them to me at brunch or something when you get back from your honeymoon.”
Addy’s eyes rove over my face. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
She taps at her phone before holding it up, showing a ticket for the same flight I’m scheduled to be on.
My eyes go wide. “Addy, you can’t be serious.”