Teddy #2
"For the last fucking time," Stephanie's voice comes through, bored and dry, "the raid is at seven—"
"I'm not calling about the raid," Heath says, glancing at me. "Your brother is here."
Stephanie snorts. "Yeah, he lives there. Well. For now. Until he's in Jersey with Indie."
A strangled, horrible noise tears out of me. I fold in on myself once more, my face in my hands.
Fuck. Jersey with Indie. Not anymore. For months, I had dreamed about living that close to the beach.
Barefoot morning walks in the summer. Indie in a bikini while I stared like an idiot and felt like a King. Proposing to her on the beach.
Building a home, and a life, and loving her forever and ever.
"I want the fairy tale."
"The fairy tale?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Indie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you know. Happy ever after and all that. I never thought it existed."
I grinned, crawling onto the bed and settling between her legs. She giggled, wrapping them around my waist while her arms wound around my neck.
"Until...?"
Indie's smile softened. "Until I met you."
Rumbling, I leaned down and kissed her.
"I'll give you the fairy tale, honey. I'll give you the house, the kids, anything you want."
"I just want you," Indie said simply, and it felt like my heart suddenly expanded.
"You have me," I deepened the kiss. "I love you, Indie. Forever."
"What the fuck was that noise?" Stephanie asks.
"That," Luke says dryly, "was your brother."
"Theo?" Stephanie asks, her voice razor sharp with concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is Indie okay?"
"Steph, I..." My throat closes. "I fucked up."
With that, I tell her everything.
She knows about my Mom calling Indie by the wrong name, huffing at that over the line.
But I tell her about everything else, the stuff I was ashamed of, about Lily, about Mom's grief, about backing out from Europe and Jersey, about that night with Mom and the knives, about what happened only hours ago.
When I'm done, I'm breathing heavily like I just sprinted a mile. My heart is pounding in my chest, matching the throbbing of my temples. Heath hands me a glass of water that I sip, but get no relief from.
Stephanie is quiet throughout my explanation and remains quiet when I'm done.
"Well... she held on longer than I thought," Stephanie finally says, before sighing. "I would have left your ass after the first dinner. Granted, I know Mom so... hindsight, and all that."
I blink, my mind stuttering to a stop at that.
"Was... it that obvious—"
"That Mom hated Indie because she had the audacity to be adored by you?" Stephanie snorts. "Yeah, Theo. It was pretty fucking obvious. To Danielle and me, at least."
"And to us," Luke admits, wincing.
Heath has the same look on his face and nods.
"Fuck," I bark, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Why didn't I see it? Why did I let it get this bad?"
"Because it doesn't make logical sense," Stephanie says, and her voice softens a fraction. "A mother being jealous of her son's girlfriend is bizarre. But it's not as uncommon as it should be."
"Have you ever heard of enmeshment?" Luke asks me.
I frown and shake my head. "No."
"I've seen it at work," he says slowly. "It's when a parent stops acting like a parent and starts acting like... a spouse, or whatever fills their need. The boundaries are gone. Managing their feelings becomes your job. Their happiness—your job."
My stomach twists, the words sinking in deep and—to my horror—they fit.
"You're telling me that's what was going on with Mom and me?"
"Yeah," Luke says quietly. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"That's sick," Heath mutters.
"No, that sounds like Mom," Stephanie says, disgust lacing every word.
"Danielle and I wanted to say something so many times, but we were scared you'd dig in.
Or worse, tell her, and then she'd do what she always does—rewrite the whole story until she's the victim and you're back in line.
Hold on, Danielle's finally calling me back—hey, Theo's here with Luke and Heath. "
Danielle's voice comes on the line.
"Uh," Danielle drawls, "why did I just get sent a video of you going off on our family?"
"What?" I say, jerking upright.
"Hold on, I'll send it to you."
Pulling my phone from my pocket, sure enough, one of my little cousins uploaded the whole fucking thing to social media. Fuck, and it's already gone semi-viral.
"Oh, fuck..." I whisper.
Luke and Heath look over my shoulder, watching the entire thing and adding their own commentary.
They each squeezed my shoulder when I confronted my Dad.
Heath lightened the moment by pouting. "Aw, that cake looked good."
"You sure as hell didn't hold back on Lily," Luke winces.
"About fucking time," Heath nudges my shoulder.
I watch numbly as I finally stand up to my mother.
"That parting line was chef's kiss," Luke snickers.
My mom's scream is cut off in the video.
"Goddamn, your mom can sing," Heath cringes, jokingly rubbing his ear like his eardrum just burst.
Surprisingly, I don't feel humiliated watching me and my rage as I defend Indie, defend myself from my toxic family. Instead, it feels real. Terrifying, and overdue, but real.
"So, Indie dumped your ass, I take it?"
My chest feels tight, my breathing shortens, and I rub at the spot over my heart as it burns.
Indie is gone. I hurt Indie. Over and over again.
With my words. My actions. My lack of action.
My lack of care for her and her feelings.
My assumption that she would just stay and deal, that she would never leave me, like I would never leave her.
I did leave her. I killed the relationship. I just tossed her the gun.
"I don't—" My voice breaks. "I can't—I won't—"
"Hey," Luke is suddenly in front of me, kneeling. "Breathe."
But all I can see is her face.
Her broken face.
Every expression is stained in my mind. Her sadness, her exasperation, her frustration, her hurt. All these months that she put up with my bullshit, my family's abuse, my own grief while working through her own.
The exhaustion in her eyes at the end of the day, how tired she was from studying for her boards, and the few tears she allowed herself to shed at the end of a tragic day at work.
And me, half in and half out.
Putting more thought into my own mother's feelings than the love of my life.
Defending my mother, making excuses, being fucking pathetic.
Putting more consideration into my ex-girlfriend's feelings and just telling myself I'll fix it later.
Later, later, later.
"I don't deserve her," I croak, tears spilling again. The panic chokes me as I stutter out the broken fragments of my thoughts. "I don't deserve her, I don't—I'm a fucking monster—what did I do? Why? Why didn't I—why couldn't I—she's gone, she's gone..."
Luke sits on the couch next to me, Heath on my other side, and they wrap their arms around me to hold me steady.
I break in their arms, but the only arms I want around me are Indie's, the only voice I want to hear is Indie's, the only person I want is Indie.
And I fucking had her!
I had her, my Indie, my honey, my life. She was mine, she wanted me—above all others—she wanted me.
"What did I do... what do I do..." I gasp, the breath wheezing in and out of me.
I don't know where she is, I don't even know where to start looking.
She blocked my number. She doesn't have an apartment anymore. She's not leaving for Europe for two weeks. Do I even still have the itinerary?
She doesn't have any family—fuck, and I flinch violently at what those words remind me of—to call and ask where she went.
I'm terrified of life without Indie. I loved Nana so much, and losing her hurt. But it was nothing compared to this.
This is ruin. This is agony. This is the worst pain I've ever felt. Indie left because staying with me hurt worse.
Maybe I'm finally feeling what she felt all those months, and the thought of her feeling even a fraction of this is excruciating.
But it's also a reminder that she existed.
I had her once.
Can I get her back?
Are second chances real?
More importantly, can I prove that I deserve a second chance?
I think of Indie's face and realize that I will do anything for her, including leave her alone if that's what she wishes. I love Indie more than anything, but saying it is easier than actually proving it and being the man she needs.
Can I be the man who deserves a second chance?
Yes.
There is no other choice.
And it's that thought that helps me even out my breathing.
Indie's face.
Her voice.
Her smile.
Those true blue eyes.
Indie.
I can be the man she needs. I can be the man she deserves.
If she'll let me.