He starts the car and takes off, giving me no time to respond.
My mom used to tell me that the silence was the worst… that she could feel the anticipation that the silence created right in her bones. That’s why they would shake the way they did. Add darkness to the silence, and her fear would be debilitating.
I’m surrounded by silence now, sitting in the darkness beside the boy I once loved—I still love—but the fear that’s making my bones rattle beneath my flesh… it isn’t caused by him. It isn’t even caused by me. It’s caused by the strengths of my untold truths. The reason I left in the first place. The reason he’s hurting. I thought by now, he would know—that the person responsible would’ve admitted to their betrayals, their truths. Clearly, they haven’t.
I keep my back to him, so he doesn’t see the tears flowing freely or my body’s reaction to the heartache slowly drowning me, wave after wave, hit after hit, and I… I do the only thing I can seem to do lately.
I cry.
With my head leaning against the window, I let the outside world whoosh by, never looking at anything, never taking the time to appreciate it.
And I cry some more.
Silent cries and endless tears.
And I wonder where I would be if I didn’t come here.
This time.
Or the first.
We’re almost back at the nursery when, like so many other times before, he settles his hand on my leg. Back then, it was because he wanted me to draw on it. Right now… I don’t know why he does it at all. Not until he says, “I’m sorry, Jamie.”
Me too, I don’t say out loud because it’s too damn late, and those two simple words mean nothing anymore.
He pulls into the driveway and parks right next to my RV, his headlights illuminating the open space of the shop. He doesn’t kill the engine, doesn’t make a move to get out, but he doesn’t remove his hand from my leg either.
He’s not ready to let me go, and I’m not ready to leave. Not until I give him one last truth that’s mine to give. “I’ve been here before.”
“You’ve been staying here a week, Jamie. I thought you said you weren’t drunk.”
My eyelids are heavy; my heart is the same. I rest my head against the back of the seat and stare at the nothingness in front of me. I feel empty. Detached from my emotions. Like I’m nothing but flesh and bones because at some point tonight, everything keeping me alive stopped doing its job. “I’ve been here before,” I repeat. “Five years ago.”
“What?”
I attempt a nod, but my body refuses to move because it’s dead, dead, dead inside. “It’s weird because when Mom and I ran from Beaker, we took a bus and just rode around until we found a car dealership. We bought the cheapest reliable car available and paid for it in cash. I didn’t even ask her where she got the money from, but… we got it, and then we just started… driving.” My vision blurs as the memories fly through my mind, like still images on flashcards I’d memorialized in ink. “And she could do it… she could drive for hours, and we’d never see the same things twice. At one point, I got a map of the entire country from a gas station and started marking the places I thought we’d passed… It’s crazy when I look back on it. We drove through Atlanta and got all the way down to Key West in Florida, and then we drove along the coastline until we got to the Texas/Mexico border.” It’s pathetic that I smile. That I can picture the excited gleam in her clear eyes at the prospect of a new beginning. “For hours, she spoke of nothing but starting a new life in Mexico.”
Holden stays quiet, listening to every word.
“The next day, we headed north. I started marking it off on the map until I realized where she was going.” My stomach sinks at the memory—another crack in my heartbreak. “There’s a reason we ended up only four hours south of where I grew up. She was going back to him. I never told her I knew. Maybe I should have. Maybe one day I’ll get a chance to. Anyway,” I breathe out, and I know I’m rambling, but I need to get this out. It’s time. “The point is, when I left, I just… drove around in circles. For days. I finally gave up hope I would get anywhere, and so I grabbed my phone, opened the navigation, and the only place I could think to type in was here. Eastwood Nursery, Blessing, North Carolina…”
I lift my hand, wipe the wetness off my cheeks, then point in the general direction of the road. I continue to stare ahead when I say, “I parked on the road right opposite the driveway and even stepped out of the car. I was in awe when I first saw it. The pictures online or in that catalog you gave me… didn’t do this place justice. I fell in love at just the sight of it, and I hadn’t even stepped foot on the property. I thought… if you could just wait a few weeks. You’d graduate, and I’ll be here waiting for you. And we could spend the summer together, start our lives together. Just us. Away from any outside influences. And we’d be happy… just you and me. All we had to do was wait a few weeks.” I close my eyes, my head lolling to the side.
“But you weren’t here waiting for me, Jamie…” Holden murmurs.
I push aside the ache in my chest, prepared for what comes next. “I got a call while I was standing there. It was um… it was the cops. Beaker had died a few days earlier,”—Holden gasps, but I push through—“and when they’d gone through his house… they found a bunch of stuff. Mainly his drug lab in the basement, but they also found my driver’s license. It was the only thing taken that night of the attack. That’s when it was confirmed… it was my fault… what happened to you.”
“You mean what happened to us.”
I shake my head. “It didn’t matter what happened to me when it was because of me, Holden.” I suck in a ragged breath. “And so I left here. And I drove. And you don’t think about it as it’s happening, but twenty hours a day, on the road, alone, with nothing but your thoughts and your guilt—that fucking guilt—and—” I break off to hold back a sob and try to regain my composure, but each shallow breath just takes from the next. “That’s when I started drinking. I’d find these random bars in the middle of nowhere where they didn’t check for ID, and I just… drank. A lot. And I’d crawl into my car and sleep it off and wake up the next day and do it all over again. I knew it was wrong—there were days I’d go without… but there were also days when I’d look in the mirror, and I’d see my mother staring back at me, and it was almost… almost comforting to know that I wasn’t alone….” I sniff back my pain, and as much as it hurts to simply breathe though the agony, I have to keep going. For Holden. And maybe even for me. “And then one day… I woke up in a random guy’s bed, and I had no idea how I got there. It was the first time it’d happened, and I hated myself. I started seeing myself through the eyes of all the people around me. Then, and as a kid. I was dirty, filthy… useless.”
“Jamie…” Holden moves toward me, but I back away because it gets worse, and I can’t have him near me when I tell him.
“I drove to a cliff edge, and I got out of the car, and I looked down, and I thought… I could jump, and it would all be over, and no one would miss me, and I know… I know that isn’t the case, but that was my mindset. And it’s also what saved me. Because you would miss me, and as selfish as it was, I still wanted a lifetime with you. So, I got back in my car, and I drove to Gina’s house, and I asked for the one thing I should’ve asked for years ago. I asked for help.” I sniff once. “She got me into these group meetings and got me into therapy, and my therapist, she helped me overcome the guilt, encouraged me to reach out to Zeke to let him know I was safe. I wanted to reach out to you, too, but every time I tried, I just… I couldn’t have you see me the way I was. Because I was a fucking mess, Holden. I lost myself in those few months, and I needed to get back to… to being someone good enough for you. And I thought… maybe once I have that then… then maybe one day I’ll come and find you, and I’ll tell you it’s because of you I’m still standing.”