He didn’t want that sorrow. It struck him suddenly that he didn’t want what could be a wave of pain to hit him. He didn’t want to mourn the years of his life he’d enjoyed. It had been the first time he’d thought he could have something good, and she’d ruined it.
The anger rose again, a loyal companion that always protected him.
Protected him from unwanted emotion.
Protected him from being vulnerable.
Protected him from any kind of happiness he might find if he could only be fucking brave enough to confront what had really happened, what he really felt.
“I’m ashamed I loved her.”
Trina gasped and tears pooled in her eyes, and for a moment he thought she would walk away from him. She stood but instead of walking away, she moved to his side and slid her arm around his. “I’m so sorry you feel that way. I wish you could see there was good in it, too. I felt that way and it nearly killed me.”
“I can’t remember the good.”
“Do you want to?” She asked the question simply, as though she would easily accept any answer he gave her.
“I don’t know.” He turned slightly, not breaking contact with her. “Why are you being so nice to me? You were angry with me.”
“I talked to my dad, and he reminded me that I was here, too. Where you are. But I had him and Mom to hold on to. I wasn’t alone in my grief. He reminded me that anger can lead to regret, but kindness is never wasted. My sister didn’t take that lesson to heart, and I won’t make the same mistakes. So I’m sorry that I was harsh the other day. I guess seeing you again brought back some of my own pain, and I had a lapse when it came to dealing with it.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me. I was an asshole.”
“I’ve found that giving myself grace makes it easier to offer it to others. I thought seeing you would be different. I thought I would see that you had moved on and come to the real recognition that you didn’t really love her or us and I would be able to move on, too. But that’s not what I see. It was okay to love her. It’s okay to feel betrayed by her. It was okay to be angry. And it will be okay if you let go of that anger and feel some affection for that part of your life.” She leaned against him. “I missed you. You were like a big brother, and I missed you.”
Sitting here with her…felt good, felt right. For the first time in years he felt some piece of himself slide back into place, the piece that was open, the piece that could care.
The piece he wanted to share with Lucy and Ty.
“I missed you guys, too. I couldn’t…I couldn’t face you. I thought maybe you would think I was in on it, and I got away with it. I couldn’t explain that I loved her and lived with her and slept with her and I didn’t see what she was capable of.”
“Don’t you think we felt the same way? And no, we never thought you were in on it. We thought if anyone could have saved her it would have been you.” She let go of his arm and sat back, simply sharing the space with him. “You should know I told her flat out that you were too good for her.”
He had to chuckle at the thought. “I’m sure that went over well.”
Trina grinned. “Oh, so not well. She was such a bitch to me that whole weekend. It was when we went to the coast for Mom’s sixty-fifth.”
He remembered that trip well. “When she jumped in that freaking freezing pool and tried to convince you it was fine.”
“Her lips turned blue,” Trina said with a laugh.
“Yeah, but she was committed,” he replied, a hundred memories flooding into his brain. “When she pulled a prank, it was spectacular.”
“Did I ever tell you how she convinced me I was being stalked by a Barbie doll?” Trina’s eyes lit up.
“No. I haven’t heard that one.” He was shocked to find out that he wanted to hear that story.
Michael sat back and listened.
Hours later, Michael sat in the backyard, in one of the chairs he’d bought when they’d moved in together.
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew this was a dream. It had to be because he hadn’t been back to Florida in two years. He’d paid someone to cover the furniture and close down the house. There was a security system to keep the place safe, but otherwise it was empty. There certainly wasn’t a warm fire glowing in the fire pit.
The long talk he’d had with Trina had led him here. Hours spent laughing and joking and acknowledging that his relationship with Jessie hadn’t been all bad had brought him to this. It was odd to know he was really in a suite in Colorado. He’d sat up with Trina for a long while and when it had been time to go to bed, he’d taken himself up to the suite where Nate had shown him to a small room and he’d actually fallen asleep quickly for once. There had been peace in knowing he was in the same building where Lucy and Ty were.
“Hey, you need a beer?”
That was a familiar voice, one that had called to him once. One that now could speak to him from beyond the grave.
Yeah. He was dreaming, and he thought he’d had enough for one day. “I don’t want you here. I’ve already dealt with this today.”
“Well, tell your subconscious that, buddy.” She wore the black and tan wrap she’d bought at a flea market they’d visited. “Because you’re kind of the only reason I’m here. Talking to my sister must have opened something up.”
Jessie sat down across from him, her pale skin warmed by the glow of the firelight.
“Then my subconscious brain can go fuck itself. I want to sleep.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I think that’s the point. It’s already fucking you over. I’m still in your head, Michael. You tried to pull me out by the root, like I’m a weed that will grow back if you don’t get all of me out.”
“So you’re saying I’ll never be rid of you.”
She shrugged in that nonchalant way of hers. “Not entirely. We were together for years. We were in love.”
“You weren’t capable of love.”
“Wasn’t I? Maybe not the way you were, but the love I did have I gave to you. I was harsh at the end, but there was love in there somewhere.” She settled back, a contemplative look on her face. She wore her hair up like she usually did when they weren’t working, and she wore the fluffy house shoes her mother had gotten her for her birthday.
“I think it was more a case of me loving you and you using me.” Talking to Trina had opened him up to the idea that he could still care for Jessie’s family, but it hadn’t convinced him anything about her.
“Ah, so we’re going the victim route,” she mused.
“What else would you call me?” It didn’t seem like he was going to be able to wake himself up. Maybe he should engage. Maybe he should get some answers.
“A man who didn’t want to see that the woman he loved was out of control. I was in a bad position, and I didn’t know how to get out.”
There was one problem with that. “You could have told me.”
“Yes, I could have,” she replied. “Have you thought about that? Why do you think I wouldn’t tell you?”
“Because you were afraid I would turn you in.” It always killed him to think that she hadn’t trusted him.