When Forever Changes

by Siobhan Davis

  Considering I’ve never looked at Slater as anything but a friend—until recently—I’d expected to feel awkward knowing he’s secretly harbored feelings for me while I’ve been trying to figure out exactly how my feelings toward him have changed. But it’s not awkward in the slightest.

  Perhaps it’s testament to the strength of our friendship. Or the potency of the attraction between us. But imagining Slater as something more than just a friend seems like a natural extension of our relationship, and it’s not uncomfortable. Like, at all, and that realization has shocked me. If anything, I’m eager to experience a different side of Slater.

  Over the next couple hours, we go through Janine’s closet, folding up clothes for the local charity place and boxing up some of her personal possessions that Slater wants to keep. It’s not as sad as I thought it’d be, and we exchange stories about his mom into the early hours.

  Slater insists on driving me home when he spots me yawning, and a little part of me is disappointed he didn’t ask me to stay, but I don’t voice it.

  He’s told me he wants to take things slow, and I agreed.

  But as I crawl into bed, my body craving his touch, I wonder why the hell we’re waiting.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The following day, I join Mom and a couple of her friends for lunch, and we bump into Heather, Dylan’s mom, on our way out of the café. I haven’t seen her since Dylan and I broke up although I had thought of phoning her but ultimately decided it was just best to leave it. She pulls me into a warm hug. “Gabby, it’s so good to see you.” She kisses me on the cheek before exchanging greetings with Mom. “You too, Lucy.”

  “We’ll miss you tomorrow,” Mom tells her with raw honesty. Dylan and Heather have come to Thanksgiving at our house every year for the past seven years, so tomorrow will be a new first.

  “We’ll miss you too.” She clasps hold of my hand. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Dylan, and I’ve picked up the phone to call you a million times, but I didn’t want you to feel I was interfering.” She pauses, composing her words. “My son’s an idiot.” Her firm tone takes me by surprise, along with her words. Heather idolizes Dylan, and they have such a close relationship. “And Bianca won’t last. I’ve only met her once, but I can see she’s all wrong for Dylan.”

  Her words burn a hole in my chest, and I hate that I still care.

  So much for my fighting talk yesterday.

  It’s just I’ve seen Dylan around campus with different girls, and I assumed Bianca was no longer on the scene. If he’s brought her to meet his mother, it’s more serious than I thought. I’m shallow enough to admit it hurts that he’s picked someone like her over me. It’s the ultimate slap in the face. But I don’t want Heather to know that, so I plaster a fake smile on my face. “It’s not any of my business anymore, and I wish Dylan well. He’s free to date whomever he wants.”

  She bites down on her lip, looking a little unsure. “I don’t like who he is when she’s around, and I know she’s just a flash in the pan.” She squeezes my hand. “I don’t think you should give up on him. He’ll come to his senses.”

  “No offense, Heather, but I won’t be a consolation prize or some weak girl who lets a guy walk all over her.” I’m not sure if she’s aware her son cheated on me behind my back, and I’m not going to be the one to tell her, so I’m skirting around the issue. “I wish things had turned out differently, but they didn’t, and there’s no going back. At least not for me.”

  A look of utter sadness ghosts over her face. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to put that on you, and you’re right to be strong, because you’re a wonderful girl, and you deserve to be treated with the utmost respect. I just hate that my son has let the best thing that’s ever happened to him walk out of his life.” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand it.”

  “If things are meant to be, they’ll find a way back to one another,” Mom cuts in, looping her arm through mine and starting to steer me away.

  “It was good seeing you, Heather. Happy Thanksgiving.” Mom guides me to the parking lot as we both wave, and I’m grateful she intervened. That was more difficult than I envisioned it would be.

  It’s only as we’re in the car on the ride home that I realize I should’ve mentioned my concerns about Dylan’s health, but I was too busy trying to get away from her to remember that niggling voice that still loiters in the back of my mind.

  Slater comes babysitting with me that night. Annie is decidedly frosty as she lists out a ream of instructions. You’d swear I never babysat my nieces before, but I smile agreeably while subtly digging my nails into my thighs.

  “Wow, she’s so fucking uptight,” Slater admits in a whisper after Dean and Annie have left for dinner.

  “She’s always been a bit highly strung, but lately she seems really tense and bad-tempered. We’ve never been close, not in the way I am with Terri, but I feel for her. I know it can’t be easy being at home with the girls all day, but Dean’s a great dad, and he seems hands-on from the minute he arrives home from work.”

  “Maybe he’s slacking in the bedroom department, and he needs to up his game.”

  I whack Slater across the back of the head. “Sex is not always the problem or the answer.”

  He shoots me a wicked grin. “Maybe not, but it sure helps relieve stress.”

  “Auntie Gabby?” a sleepy voice calls, and I look up to see Mia at the top of the stairs. “Can you and Slater read us a story?”

  According to Annie, they’ve already had their bedtime story, and she told me to send them back to bed if they got up, but I hardly get to see my nieces, and, in my opinion, you can never have enough bedtime stories. I look to Slater.

  He shrugs. “I’m cool with it.”

  We go up to the girls’ bedroom, and I lie down beside Mia while Slate half-lies beside Tia. His legs are way too long for her kiddie-sized bed, so he has to sit up straighter and bend his knees to fit. We take it in turns reading stories and I have to stifle a giggle when Slater puts on different voices as he reads the various parts in the book. After twenty minutes, both girls are fast asleep, and we tiptoe out of the room, returning downstairs.

  It takes about a half hour to agree on a movie, and that’s only because I won rock, paper, scissors and got my own way. We settle down to watch a romantic movie about a girl who falls in love with her twin’s boyfriend. Slater is muttering obscenities under his breath after only ten minutes, and I pinch his thigh, telling him to shush.

  He’s only just returned to the living room with a bucket of popcorn when the front door bursts open and Annie races into the hall, sobbing. Slater never closed the living room door after him, so we watch uncomfortably as the scene plays out. Dean runs in after his wife, pleading with her as she flies up the stairs with mascara-streaked cheeks. “Annie, please. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I hate you!” she flings back at him. “I regret the day I ever set eyes on you!”

  I quietly toe my shoes on as Slater shoves his feet back into his boots.

  “Annie, please.” Dean attempts to cajole his wife as a high-heeled shoe comes soaring down the stairs at him.

  My eyes pop wide, matching Slater’s startled expression.

  Dean ducks at the last minute, narrowly avoiding a stiletto heel in the groin. He audibly sighs. “We need to at least try to discuss this like civilized adults. Please, Annie. Think of the girls.”

  “Screw you, Dean. I hate you, and I want you out of this house. Pack a bag and leave!” she hisses.

  We get up, and I lace my hand in Slater’s, clinging to his side as we inch out of the room. It’s clear they need their privacy, and we should go.

  Annie disappears and a door slams upstairs a couple seconds later. It’s a wonder the girls haven’t woken with all the noise. We venture out to the hallway, and my heart aches at the sight of my brother with hi
s eyes closed and his forehead pressed to the wall. His shoulders are slumped, and he looks defeated.

  “Dean? What can I do to help?” I don’t bother asking him if he’s okay, because he’s clearly not.

  Slowly, he lifts his head, and I’m startled to see tears glistening in his eyes. I’ve never seen my older brother cry. Never. I rush to his side, without hesitation, wrapping my arms around him in a fierce hug.

  He leans into me, hugging me back equally as fiercely, his head resting on top of mine.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Slater whispers, placing his hand lightly on my back as he passes.

  “What’s going on, Dean?” I whisper, forcing his head up so I can look him in the eye.

  “I brought up the subject of divorce,” he chokes out. “But I didn’t even get to say half of what I wanted to say before she erupted, like usual.”

  Tears stab my eyes. “Oh no. I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No, not really, but I can’t keep going on like this. Pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t. I don’t want my daughters raised in a house that isn’t full of love. Maybe if I was like Annie, and I hadn’t grown up knowing what it was like to be loved and cherished, I might find this environment normal, but we got the best example, Gabby. Is it wrong to want that for my own kids?”

  “Of course, it isn’t. I’m no expert, but when I imagine being married with kids, I imagine an environment similar to what we had growing up. That’s not to say it was picture perfect, because we both know it wasn’t, but I want to bring all the best parts of our upbringing into my own family, and I expect my husband to do the same so we’re keeping both our families’ traditions alive while creating our own new version.”

  I used to daydream about the day when Dylan and I would be married with kids. He was young when his dad died, and he missed him terribly. I know Dylan will make a great father because he’ll give his kids everything he didn’t have.

  “You’ve always had such a wise head on your shoulders,” Dean says, hugging me again. “And I don’t want to shatter your illusions, but marriage is damn hard. Raising kids is hard. If you don’t have a solid unit to start with, you’re already on the back foot. I think that’s why I failed.”

  “You didn’t fail, Dean, and this isn’t a solo effort. It requires two to make a relationship work.”

  “Annie has tried, Gabby. I don’t want you to think less of her, because we’ve both tried to fix things, but it’s just not working.”

  “What about couples counseling?”

  “We’ve been attending sessions for the last year, but we’re just going around in circles.” He straightens up, holding me at arm’s length. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with this. You’ve got your own shit going on.”

  “I don’t mind, Dean. That’s what family is for.”

  “And I’m so lucky for mine, but if you want my advice, it’s to live life to the fullest while you’re young. Have fun before you tie yourself down with responsibility. Do what feels right and instinctual. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel or what you want. Know your own mind, and be strong enough to follow it.”

  He brushes hair back off my face. “I’m not going to say I regret anything because that would be like denying my daughters, and I live for those two gorgeous girls, but I haven’t always made the right choices for me. Learn from my mistakes. Take control of your own destiny, and don’t let anyone else tell you how to live your life.”

  I’m still mulling over Dean’s words as Slater drives me home. “Can we go for a walk on the beach?” I ask, not wanting to return to the house until the obvious upset is gone from my face. If I walk inside like this, Mom and Dad will instantly know something’s wrong and I’ll spill my guts. I figure Mom is already somewhat clued in, but it’s not my place to say anything, and I know my brother, and he wouldn’t want Mom and Dad to know what went down tonight.

  “Sure thing.” He makes a U-turn, heading in the direction of the beach.

  It’s pretty cold down by the shore, and I’m glad I brought my heavy coat, but I’ve no tie for my hair, and it’s already blowing all over my face.

  “Here.” Slater tugs his beanie down over my head, carefully tucking my hair underneath. “You need this more than me.”

  “Thanks.” I thread my fingers through his as we start walking. Apart from a lone figure with a dog walking up ahead, there isn’t another soul in sight. It’s not exactly ideal beach-walking weather, but the chilly air is exactly what’s needed to dispel my sad thoughts.

  “That was pretty sucky, huh?” he says as we walk.

  “Yeah, it was. I feel so bad for all of them.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “I think they’re going to divorce.”

  “Ah, shit, really?” He looks genuinely upset for them.

  “It’s looking that way.”

  He squeezes my hand. “I’m real sorry to hear that.”

  We walk in comfortable silence to the far end of the beach and then turn around and start walking back. My thoughts are fixated on Dean and what this will mean going forward. A blast of cold air barrels into us, and I shiver. Slater pulls me into his side, trying to shelter me from the worst of it. “Can I ask you something?” I inquire after a bit.

  “Shoot.”

  “How badly did you miss not having your Dad around growing up?” Slater has never known his dad, and, for years, his mom told him his dad was dead. When he was thirteen, he discovered his dad wasn’t dead at all. That he was alive and well and fully aware he had a son he’d never met. Turns out, he was a well-known politician, married with a family of his own. His public image was that of a dedicated family man, and it was one he’d carefully cultivated over the years. He wasn’t prepared to risk that by acknowledging an illegitimate child.

  I remember that day so clearly. Slater showed up at our house in floods of tears, clutching a crumpled letter in his hand. It seems his mom had been writing to his dad frequently begging him to take an active interest in his child’s life. She was only twenty when she met him and fell head over heels in love. She didn’t know he was already married with a pregnant wife until it was too late. She was pregnant with Slater by then. The guy begged her to have an abortion, and when she refused, he threatened her and then cut her out of his life.

  That must’ve been so difficult for Janine, and I can understand why she tried to shelter the truth from Slater, but it devastated him when he finally found out. I can’t imagine what that discovery must’ve been like or how deep the wounds run. Knowing your father didn’t want you and that he treated your mother with so much disrespect was bad enough but then to learn you have half-brothers and half-sisters you didn’t know about must’ve seriously messed with his head.

  Slater doesn’t talk about it. At least not to me, so I know my probing question has thrown him for a loop. He’s quietly contemplative for a few minutes, and I’m just about to tell him to forget I asked when he steers me over to a large rock. We sit down, and he keeps his arm slung around me, warming me with his body heat. “When I was younger, I had moments where I hated not having a father in my life, but mostly I was fine.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm. “When I discovered my father was alive and learned how he’d abandoned my mom, I was so freaking angry at first. At him and her, but I got over the initial shock, and I forgave Mom for not telling me the truth, and then I was glad he wasn’t a part of our lives. My feelings haven’t changed.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “Once.” His jaw is rigid, his tone cold. “He turned up at the house the day after Mom’s funeral telling me how sorry he was and offering me a big, fat check.”

  My mouth drops open. “You never said.”

  “I only told Ryan. I was too fucking mad and upset to even think about it.” He kicks a lo
ose stone at his feet, and we both watch as it sails toward the water. “I tore up the check and told him to fuck off and never come back. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “What an asshole.”

  “My sentiments exactly. I didn’t need him when I was growing up, and I sure as shit don’t need him now.”

  “Well, it’s his loss.” I cradle his face in my hands. “He missed out on the opportunity to love one of the best men I know.”

  He stares deep into my eyes as he presses his forehead to mine. “Thank you, Belle.” We stay like that for a few minutes, and despite the plummeting temps, I’m warm all the way through. After a while, he straightens up, looking deep in thought again. He brushes some wispy, stray strands of my hair back under the beanie, staring at me with a serious expression. “Going back to your original question, I don’t feel like I missed anything. Mom was amazing, and I had Ryan and you and your family, and your dad has always been there for me if I needed some manly advice.”

  He chuckles, as if he’s remembering something funny, and now I’m wondering what kind of conversations they might’ve had over the years. “And if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you shouldn’t worry. Dean will still be an active presence in the girls’ lives even if him and Annie divorce. The girls won’t miss out. Some might say it’s better than living in a house full of arguments and tension.”

  That’s pretty much what Dean said earlier.

  “It’s still sad though.”

  “Yeah, but life will go on, and it doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You’re proof of that. Sometimes life throws us curveballs we’re not expecting, and it ends up being the best thing ever.”

  It’s not a like for like comparison, but I get his meaning. “If you’d asked me six months ago what I’d do if Dylan and I ever broke up, I would’ve told you I’d fall to pieces and never recover.”

  “And now?” He rubs his thumb along my lower lip.