“Oh yes I am. You’ve always been my book to read Rae. Every line, every word.”
“Not this chapter,” I snap, mustering every ounce of willpower I have to keep my hands from fidgeting.
“You just keep on trying to convince yourself of that and let me know how it works out for you. Because I’ll be the first to tell you, there’s no forgettin’ us. I tried. You can spend the rest of your life making yourself miserable trying to forget but you’ll no sooner forget what we had than you’ll live long enough to see the sun burn out and the stars fall. It ain’t happening in this lifetime, Rae.”
I know.
“Give it up,” he coaxes with his palm outstretched my way. “Please.”
I wish I could.
“If we’re done here…” I mumble as I turn on my heel before he catches sight of the tears pooling behind my sunglasses.
“Nah, nah, nah! I still want your fuckin’ answer,” he says snagging my elbow and whirling me in place. “Are you going to honor the pact—will you move past all the bullshit and finally be my wife?”
“Sy—”
“Yes or no,” he demands though I know, and he knows my answer. It doesn’t matter to him. He wants to make me say the words, and it hurts like hell.
“No,” I say the ugly word that is so small but so weighty in my mouth.
“Fine but I’m making you a promise right now, if you wanna walk—if you’re stepping out of my life again, don’t bother waltzing back into town thinking I’ll be around next time. I lost you before, I’m about to lose you again,” he pauses sucking in a shaky breath, “I can’t take it again, Rae.”
“You aren’t losing me, Sy. We’re still fr—”
“Friends?” he barks with his eyebrows raised high, nearly touching his hairline. I cross my arms over my chest and study his face. “You honestly think I want to be your friend, Rae? I just asked you to be my wife, not my fucking friend. Being your friend was never enough when we were kids and it damn sure isn’t enough now, so don’t insult me.” He turns on his heel kicking at the grass underfoot. “Jesus, any other woman. Any! But you give me the most stubborn pain in the ass female on the planet.” He says with his gaze skyward and his hands tossed out in exasperation as he talks to the heavens.
“I’m not the woman for you, Sy,” I say softly, hating the poison words as they slip from my mouth. “I’m everything they say I am and I am content to stay this way,” I lie. “I’ve worked so hard. I was offered a position as campaign manager for a candidate that could make history. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. People will remember me. I could be a part of history,” I explain. Sy faces me with tired eyes and slumped shoulders.
“You already are,” he says sadly, stepping into my space. He pulls my sunglasses away from my eyes, revealing the pools of tears there. He cups my face in his calloused hands and kisses me deeply, demanding but gentle, possessive and guiding. He breaks away abruptly, takes one lingering look at me, places my sunglasses back over my face and walks away. I watch him as he gets in his truck, leaving me and doing exactly as he promised he would—making it really hard on me and ruined for any other man. I don’t see any way around it though.
I remain in my parent’s front yard where Sy left me for some time though I am not certain exactly how long. With my mind racing and my heart thrashing, awareness of time seems to have taken a backseat. With one more lingering look down the road, I breathe deeply, sniffling away my tears. When I turn toward the house, I see my mother settling into the porch swing. She gently pats the place beside her and I feel like a little girl in need of her mother’s comfort and love all over again. Forcing my feet to move, I trudge to her, the evening cicadas coming to life in long bursts of ruckus mixed in with chirping crickets.
“Oh, Rae,” she sighs tossing her arm over my shoulders, gently coaxing me closer to her side. Tears stream freely down my face, dripping fat and hot from my jaw.
“Sweetheart, you gotta let him go,” Mom says with her lips pressed to my temple.
My head drops, my chin nearly touching my chest. “Don’t start with me, Momma,” I stutter tiredly, between breaths.
“I’m not startin’ anything with you Rae, I’m just tryin’ to help you finish somethin’,” she says nodding her chin in the direction Sylas went.
“Momma, I’ve tried to let him go. I have shoved him away. I have peeled him off. I have coerced him out the door. I have insulted and berated him. I’ve lied to him. I’ve tried it all. He hasn’t budged much yet.”
“Rae, my girl, I love you and I’ll be the very last person on this planet to ever give up on you but sweetheart, has it ever occurred to you that you’ve done those things to everyone and not just Sylas?”
Fresh rivers of regret snake over my cheeks and my grief over Sy is matched only by how much remorse has surged forward.
“I never wanted to hurt you or anyone—I don’t like that I have but—I—I have to be this way. It’s just how I have turned out. It’s who I am.”
“I think it’s time you explain to me why?”
My eyes snap up to hers. The clever gaze I inherited from her, challenging me.
“Momma,” I hesitate, swallowing roughly.
“One day, when—god willing—you become a momma you’ll understand me when I say that there is no safer place for you than right here with me and there is no one more devoted to your happiness than me.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the horizon, shades of luminescent pink reflecting in her eyes. “The minute I saw your face, Ellie’s face, and Teddy’s,” she pauses, blowing out a shaky breath. “I felt like a super woman. Not because I carried and gave birth to a beautiful baby but because all of a sudden I felt driven enough, motivated enough, in absolute love enough to rip the world apart if it meant keeping you safe and happy. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” She moves away from me then, shifting her hips so her shoulders are facing me. Her graceful hands belie their appearance as she grips the caps of my shoulder firmly, forcing me to face her. “If you have pain that I’m not aware of, as I suspect you do, you need to know that as your momma, I’ll carry that hurt with you. I’d carry it all if I could, but I can’t,” her voice quivers for a moment while my entire body quakes with sobs I won’t lend a voice to. “So the next best thing is for you to share your burden with your old momma and give me a chance to feel useful,” she laughs, a small, sad sound that chips at my walls. “You can’t carry on this way. I want my girl back. Let me try to help,” she pleads, squeezing my hands in hers. Her blue eyes shine with tears, her brow in wrinkled in distress and it takes a brick of plastic explosive to the barricade guarding my hideous truth from the world.
I was so worried going home would result in Sylas uncovering my ugly truth. I never saw my mom coming in from left field like a boss. My inner circle collectively give a nod of respect. She’s right about several things, I can’t keep living this way, and she is definitely a fucking superhero.
Raegan
17 years old