Incomplete (23 page)

I shrug. “No. I just can’t say no to this. The odds that this even happened in the first place are unheard of. It’s the only chance I’ll probably ever get. I have to take it.”

“What about your education? What if this isn’t what you really want? What if you do this and then wish you hadn’t?”

“Dad.”

His lips close and press into a thin line as he waits.

“I’m doing this.”

Seeing the determination on my face, he finally nods. “Be safe, Grayson. Make sure you
be safe.”

“Got it.
Do you want the check back?” At his blank look, I specify, “The one you gave me for a graduation present, for college.”

“Oh, no.
No, Grayson. That’s for you. You keep that. You might need it at first.” The way he hesitates is a good indication he has more to say. I wait him out and it doesn’t take long for him to reveal what else is on his mind. “Your mom…she told me about your confrontation a while back.”

Shoulders stiffening, I shift my jaw as I stare at the blanket on my bed.

“Your mom and I…we have problems. We have a
lot
of problems. Everything you said was true. I didn’t want to hear it, I don’t like thinking it, but it is true. You’re right. I’m not here enough. Your mom needs help. I’ll work on it. I’ll be around more. And your mom—I’ll find a way to help her too. I don’t want you to be worried about Aidan when you’re away. We’ll do what we need to do to make everything okay.”

My dad walks into the room further and stands before the bed. He looks at me, then away, and then turns his gaze to me again, tapping his fingers on the footboard of the bed. “I should have seen how
much this was affecting your brother and you. I guess I didn’t want to see it. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you both were suffering along with your mother and me. I hope this isn’t why you’re leaving.”

I look down, knowing the truth will only upset him, knowing no good will come of it. So I lie. “No. It has nothing to do with that.”

He nods, looking unconvinced. “I set up an appointment with a counselor for your mom, me, and Aidan if he wants to go.”

Throat thick, I struggle to swallow. “Good. That’s good.”

“I loved your mother once.”

My head shoots up.

With a sad smile, he says, “It wasn’t always like this—time, miscommunication, lack of communication, distance, all of that contributed to what we are now. But our love for you, for your brother, that was never in question, Grayson. I hope you know that.”

“I didn’t.”

“And now?”

I swipe my arm across my stinging eyes. “I think I’m starting to know.”

Sighing loudly, he backs away toward the door. “Well, that will have to be enough then.”

“Dad?”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“What happened?
To Mom?”

His shoulders slump.
“I wish I could tell you, but it’s not my story to tell. It wasn’t you or Aidan, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t any of this. At least know that, Grayson.”

“Was it her parents?” I have to know. I have to know why my mother is the way she is. Until I do, I’ll never be able to accept what she is instead of what I wish she was.

“Your mother…she doesn’t do well with grief. She’s lost more people than she could handle. It’s made her…distant. And her drinking is a way for her to deal with grief. That’s all I can say.”

It isn’t much, but it is something. Even that tidbit of information soothes the wound—intrinsically, but even that is a balm against the ever-present ache. I also realize there is a lot about my mother I do not know, a lot she has kept hidden. It makes me wonder how differently things would be, if she’d only opened up instead of relying on booze to exist.

Pulling on the frayed hemline of my jeans, I ask, “Do you think you can love her again?”

My dad looks away, blinking his eyes. “I don’t know. But I’ll give it my best.”

“I guess that will have to be enough then,” I respond.

She has always been there for me—in any way I needed her to be. She accepted me as I was and I wonder if I’ll ever have that again—that unconditional love, that endless faith I never deserved. Lily always told me I could do it, told me I could do anything I wanted to. And Lily’s eyes, her eyes always saw me. I miss her. I miss her so much it’s like half of me
is gone, like I’m not a full person without her. Her scent, making love to her, her smiles, the sound of her voice—I
ache
for it all.

I eat the asparagus, somehow thinking I’m getting back at her as I choke down each bite, which is pathetic. I can’t even enjoy asparagus anymore. It tastes bitter. I drop the fork to the plate and sit back. She has ruined it, ruined everything,
ruined me. Lily ruined me by setting me free. What a pitiful, worthless irony that is.

There are so many things I want to talk to her about and I cannot. I want to tell her about my mom and my dad. I want to tell her about the possible career waiting for me in California. I want to tell her I miss her and I love her and that I am so sorry for all the mistakes I’ve made, known or unknown by her. But I can’t. Lily is unapproachable, out of reach.

So this is what it feels like to lose someone you love. It bites. And I wonder, once you lose them, do you ever get them back? Do you ever get that part of
yourself
back that you gave to them? I don’t think so.

I should be happy for her. Sam Lorenz is a decent guy. He goes to school, comes from a nice family, and works part-time at the accounting firm he’ll take a job at when he’s done with college. He’s likable, safe. I put my head in my hands. The guy is all wrong for her. And the thought of them having sex—I want to vomit thinking about it, and I have no right to be upset. It’s not like I didn’t royally fuck things up that way myself.

All I want is to have her back. I know it won’t happen, but I can’t stop the yearning regardless. I am pretty sure it won’t ever go away, nor will the ache, not completely anyway. It’s weird, this numbness inside me. There is this huge void, this part of me missing. I can function, but it hurts. I am like a robot, doing the motions, but not feeling anything.

“You okay, Grayson?” My dad watches me from the doorway to the living room. He looks better, not so strained. It is amazing what the ease of inner turmoil can do to a person’s outward appearance. Same goes for the reverse—I look like shit.

“Sure,” I mutter, sliding the plate away.

Hesitating, he steps into the room. “This was in the mailbox.” Waving a white envelope in the air, he offers it to me.

With a frown on my face, I take it, staring at the unmarked white of the paper. It barely registers that my dad has left. All I see, all that means anything, is this stinking envelope and whatever is inside it. Nerves going haywire, my fingers shake as I fight the war to open it. I know who it is from. Do I really want to torture myself more? Apparently I do because I lose the battle against my better judgment, tearing it open. The frown deepens as I tip the seemingly empty envelope over and shake it. I grit my teeth as the flattened piece of foil floats out, landing on the table before me.

“Are you fucking serious?” I growl. I jump to my feet, fisting my hand and slamming it against the tabletop. “Bull shit! This is absolute
bull shit
!” I swipe the wrapper up and squeeze it into a tiny ball until it is demolished to the point of unreadable, storming from the house, the door hanging open after me. Stupid Dove chocolates and their stupid,
stupid
sayings.

‘
Do not look back and ask why, look forward and ask, why not?’

A snarl leaves me and I bang my fist on the front door of her house. How can she do this? What does she think she’s doing? Is this some righteous shit to make her feel better by thinking she is making me
feel better? Well, she’s not! All Lily is accomplishing with these little messages that are supposed to mean something is showing me how meaningless they are, just tossing them my way whenever the whim strikes her—an act to pacify her conflicted soul. She knows she was wrong. She
knows
it. We should be together. I know it.
She
knows it.

The door opens and Scott is staring at me.
“Grayson? What the hell happened to you?”

“Where’s Lily? Is she here?”

“Uh…yeah.” Frowning, he says, “But she’s busy. And you look mad.”

“What gave it away? The maniacal gleam in my eye?” I jab a finger to my eye, not even flinching when it makes a connection. “Busy with what?” I grind out when he doesn’t respond.

I’ve always liked Scott. He’s a couple years older than me and slightly anal retentive, but he’s always been a good brother to Lily, if overprotective. He has always talked to me, even been a distant friend, someone I could laugh with. When he crosses his arms and widens his stance, his brown eyes narrowing, it doesn’t matter how nice he’s been to me in the past. I will kick his ass if he tries to keep me from Lily.

“With her
boyfriend
. Who isn’t you. I’ve seen Lily happy and I’ve seen her sad, but I have
never
seen her broken, not until you decided to play with her heart.”

“
What?
”

“She didn’t have to tell me. I know. You two messed around, you told her you loved her, and now you’re leaving her. You broke her heart. And you’re not seeing her ‘
cause you’ll just break it again. She’s finally starting to smile again, finally acting close to the old Lily. And I know it’s because you haven’t been around. I plan on keeping it that way. So why don’t—“

It doesn’t even register in my brain what I’m doing until I already punched him. He goes limp like a noodle, not even making a sound as he drops to the floor. I shake my tender hand and step over him, desperation and insanity prodding me on. Voices from the back of the house steer me in that direction and I pass through the dining room and kitchen to the patio doors. They are sitting on the deck, Lily next to Sam, her parents, and Cindy, Scott’s girlfriend. It isn’t
Lily who notices me first. It’s Sam, her boyfriend. His black hair is short, his eyes brown, and he’s shorter than me, more muscular. He is the opposite of me, basically. In all ways.

He starts to stand and I move, not about to let someone else try to put me off from this confrontation. I barrel through the sliding doors, conversation halting as my presence becomes known. The tinfoil is digging into the flesh of my palm as I clench my fists. Lily sucks in a sharp breath and slowly rises, her face paler than usual, her eyes darker, smudges beneath them. I haven’t seen her close-up in weeks, so I didn’t realize how drawn she looks. I swallow, some of my fury deflating.

“Grayson? Can we help you?” It is Georgia who asks this, her eyes shifting from Lily to me and back.

“Where’s Scott?” Cindy asks, her high voice causing me to wince. She’s a pretty blond with a sweet disposition. I find her annoying, but whatever works for Scott.

“Can I talk to you?” I lock gazes with Lily, feeling faint from this simple look.

“I…”

“Lily, you don’t have to talk to him,” Sam tells her, his hand squeezing hers.

Averting my eyes, I wait for her answer.

“No. It’s okay.”

Why does hope slam through me at this concession?
Doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t change anything. I feel eyes on me as she walks my way and glance over to see Henry watching me, his fingers a steeple beneath his chin. I wonder at the intensity of his gaze, but I don’t really care that much about why he is looking at me the way he is looking at me.

Lily stops beside me, her hair pulled back with a thin black headband barely detectable in the ebony locks of her hair. Her slim frame seems thinner and I hate that this breakup is hurting her like it is hurting me. Khaki shorts and a white top make up her outfit and I am surprised to find plain brown sandals on her feet. She crosses her arms and leads us away from curious eyes.

When we get to her prone brother, she pauses. “What happened to my brother?”

I wince, absently fingering the hand with throbbing knuckles. “He wasn’t going to let me talk to you.”

“So you just—just
hit
him?” Incredulity makes her voice almost as high as Cindy’s natural one.

“It just kind of happened,” I answer lamely. Scott groans and fidgets on the floor. “See? He’s okay.”

“He doesn’t exactly make a good doormat.” Shaking her head, she steps over her brother and out the front door with me following. A faint shriek alerts us Cindy has found Scott, which both of us ignore.

The sun coats us in heat as we stand beside the porch. Lily rubs her forehead. “What do you want, Grayson?”

“Why was your dad looking at me like that?”

“What? Like what?” Rubbing her face, Lily sighs. “I don’t know. He’s being all Detective Dad lately. He’s been dropping hints that I should be with you. Also, he hates Sam.” Good.
No
, not good.
Fuck.

“Why are you wearing those sandals?”

Frowning, she says, “What does it matter what kind of sandals I wear?”

I shrug, shoving my hands into the pockets of my gray shorts. “I don’t know. They just don’t seem like something you would wear. They don’t fit you.”

She stares at me for a long time, her lips trembling. Finally Lily admits, “Sam doesn’t like flashy stuff, especially shoes.”

“Sam’s an idiot,” is my immediate reply.

I can tell she is fighting a smile, her features turning into that scowly expression, but she is working hard for it. “Classy women don’t wear flowers on their feet. His words.”

Leaning toward her, our faces inches apart, I say softly, “Who said you were classy?
Fiery, passionate, insatiable, exceptional, unique—sure. But classy?” I slowly shake my head, watching her lips part as she struggles for air. “And I wouldn’t want you to be.”

“Grayson—
“ Lily swallows, looking down.

“Are you happy?” I demand.

Closing her eyes, Lily moves away, stepping onto the porch. “Of course.”

“You’re lying.” I move to stand on the step below her, still taller than she is, my chest grazing her back. I put my mouth close to her ear, the shiver of her body going through me as well, and say, “If you can’t be with me, if you don’t want to be, fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but I accept it now. Not accept.
Tolerate.
I
tolerate
this condition. Okay? I tolerate that we can’t be together, because I have no choice. But don’t settle, Lily. Please don’t settle. And don’t—“

I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. “And don’t date someone just because they’re nothing like me. That’s wrong,” I say in a low voice. “You forced me to do something for myself, but for you too. Do this one thing for me, okay?
And for you.
Be happy
. Be with someone who makes you smile, makes you laugh. Don’t waste yourself on a filler guy. You’ll regret it. And wear the shoes you love, for shit’s sake. If someone can’t love your shoes, then they can’t love you. Not the real you.”

Lily slowly turns around; her lips so close to mine. Eyes large and overflowing with sorrow and tears, she nods. “Okay, Grayson.”

The urge to kiss her is strong and so I step away, closer to my house and farther from her. “And quit leaving random wrappers for me to find. I don’t appreciate it.” I unclench my hand and a foil ball falls to the porch steps, Lily’s eyes following it.

When she lifts her eyes to mine, one blink of the eyes and the pooling tears trickle down her cheeks. I turn away. I turn away from the picture of a broken Lily, my chest tight, my pulse thudding with the wrongness of walking away from her. Right and wrong—neither really matters. Another truth I know.

***

I stare at the room I’ve called my own for over ten years. It’s just a room, but it holds so many memories. It is August 1
st
and I am leaving, finally. It is an overdue exit. My eyes go to the ceiling Lily and I painted, then to the walls that match her eyes. My chest is tight and I inhale deeply, trying to loosen the pressure. Is this really what I want do to? Leave it all, never come back? The only thing I have here now is Aidan. I feel awful that I’m leaving him. I feel like I’m abandoning him. But I also know he will be okay. Lily will make sure of that. It is one of those truths I can’t doubt.

My eyes fall to the corkboard resting on the floor beside my dresser. Hundreds of shiny sayings stare back at me. There are two on my desk; two I have been saving to add to the collection—two specifically for Lily. I grab a couple pushpins from a drawer in the desk and post the wrappers to the board. I already asked Aidan to drop it off at Lily’s after I leave. I know I promised her I would keep it, but it feels better leaving it with her, at least for now. Maybe someday I’ll be able to have it back. The quotes play through my head as I finish packing.

‘Forget the rules and play by your heart.’

‘Be free. Be happy. Be you.’

Hand on the duffel bag that holds everything I’m taking with me, I walk out of the room and pull up short. My mom is waiting for me in the hallway, her arms hugging herself. I wait for her to speak first, my emotions conflicted. I’m glad I’m escaping the backlash of her alcoholism, but there is also a hollow place in me where the love for her should be, and I mourn that.