Until I Knew Myself
Page 20
Ty wasn’t really hers anymore, but she found herself wanting to believe he was. Moreover, she could totally see why Ty was drawn to Caroline. She was authentic and that was a rare gift in their circles.
“Not to step my foot in more of your territory, but April told me Ty’s struggling. She asked me to talk to him.”
“Good.”
“I think you should reach out as well.”
“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want my help.” Heaviness settled into her chest. A few more months and they’d both forget what it felt like to love each other. “I’ve been hoping for a year now that the decline of our relationship wasn’t real. But I think it time to accept that it’s over.”
“If you’d seen him at the art show, you would know different. He practically cried when he saw your painting. Walked right up to it without even looking at the name.”
Journey mulled over the words, hating the seasickness they caused.
Caroline twisted in her seat. “I know I only have the briefest understanding of your dynamics, but I do know what it’s like to lose people who matter. To not fight for those who are worth fighting for.” Her voice shifted. No longer remorseful, but determined. “There was a point when I thought my life was over. At twenty-four. How sad is that?” She chuckled but there was no humor in the sound. “I’d put myself in such a terrible situation that I couldn’t see any way out. But there was light and there was a path. I just had to find it. So does Ty.”
“He asked me for space.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Her voice cracked. “No one should be alone. Even when they think it’s their only choice.”
Chapter 30
His mom used to say that darkness was a friend to the depressed.
At least that was the case tonight.
Tyler sat near his pathetic attempt at a fire and stared blankly at the water. His new home’s foundation was poured. Crisp, clean concrete cut a square chunk out of his land right in the center. He should be thrilled, but he only wondered how that slab could look so solid when his own life was a crumbled mess.
He’d driven out to Kyle after he left the storage building. To think, but also to cling to that last shred of hope that Dustin wasn’t a fraud. But only more reality awaited him there. The apartment Dustin supposedly lived in? Just another lie in a string of many. Two wary girls answered the door when Tyler had knocked, neither having a clue who Dustin Court was.
With that string of pearls now in his possession, his so-called brother would become what he always was—a ghost; a wish too important to be true.
A log falling in the fire pulled Tyler away from his thoughts. He picked up a stick and poked at the kindling. He’d had the contractor clear this circle by the dock and pour a smaller slab, one just big enough for a few chairs and a fire pit. He’d envisioned Smore’s and scary stories and lots of childish giggles.
A family. His family.
The fire crackled again, but Tyler paused and listened closer. It wasn’t just the fire, but footsteps. He hopped to his feet and spun around, the stick he’d been using flailing in his hand.
The silhouette stilled and seared a flashlight into his eyes.
Tyler used his left hand to shield the blinding light, trying to make out the figure only ten feet from him. “Beck?” he called out because his former housemate was the only one who knew where his new house was being built.
The flashlight lowered. “No. It’s me. I guessed you might be out here.”
Tyler blinked away the circles in his vision while Journey eased closer, her steps careful to avoid the scattered branches on the ground.
“How did you find it?”
“Beck told me where it was.”
He probably told her a lot of other things too. “Why did you come?” he asked, not because he didn’t want her here, but because he’d seen her painting. It was all about letting him go.
“I don’t know. I thought you might need a friend tonight.” Her body was nothing more than a shadow in the night. He couldn’t see her features but he could hear her hopefulness. She didn’t want him to turn her away again. She had no idea that just hearing her voice had nearly brought him to his knees.
The firelight cast a glow around her the minute she stepped onto the concrete. “This plot suits you,” she said looking toward the water. “It’s just what you always talked about getting.”
Back when they were together, a couple planning the future.
“I’m glad you came.” He offered his hand and squeezed hers when she placed it in his. Maybe, just for tonight, they could put the secrets and hurtful words aside and remember what it felt like to trust one another. “Do you want to see the house?
Grinning, she let him pull her toward the larger slab, her hiking boots clomping over the fallen leaves. She smelled like honey and bug spray, and a memory hit like a bolt of lightning.
“Do you remember that camping trip we took the summer before Sophomore year?”
She groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. Beck insisted on putting our tents up, and April’s and mine collapsed in the middle of the night. I honestly thought she was going to kill him.”
Tyler chuckled. “You do know he did that on purpose, right?”
“No, he didn’t!”
“Think about it. Where did you and April end up sleeping the rest of the night? If you think Sean and Beck didn’t plan that, you’re way too naïve.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That little punk.”
“Gotta give the guy credit, he’s resourceful.” Tyler thought back to his recent blowup with his former best friend and felt a piercing surge of loss.
I’ve always considered you my brother, he’d said. Of all the words they’d exchanged last night, those were the ones that haunted him the most.
Shoving the thoughts aside the way he’d done all day, Tyler focused on the only positive thing in his life.
“This will be the living room,” he said, pulling her to the area closest to the lake. “It will have three huge sliding doors that can open out to a covered porch.” He walked to the left. “The porch will continue all the way to this corner where I’ll have French doors leading from the master bedroom.”
“You should paint the awning blue, and put green and yellow chairs outside.”
“It’s not a kindergarten classroom. It’s an adult, grown up house.”
“Doesn’t mean it has to be boring. I swear, Ty, if you turn this beautiful place into a monochromatic bachelor pad, I will kill you.”
“I’m not Beck. It will have some color.”
She crossed her arms. “Yeah? Like what?”
He soaked in her battle ready position. He missed this. The easiness of Journey. The playfulness and energy she brought to his life. “I’m going to paint the awning blue and put green and yellow chairs outside.”
“Unbelievable suggestion. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“No idea.” He winked, though in the dim light, she probably didn’t see it. “Come on.” He took her further down on the slab to the center. “Kitchen is here. Imagine a big island and a commercial grade stove.”
“For all the cooking you don’t do?”
“I plan to learn,” he defended.
“I’ll remind you of that when it goes untouched for six months.”
“We’ll see.” He grabbed her hand again, shuffling her toward the entry. “Two more bedrooms will be on this side and there will be a forth upstairs in a wide open loft that opens up to a balcony.”
“Your office?”
Tyler didn’t answer, the truth too painful to recite. It was supposed to be a paint studio. For Journey.
“Pool room? Man cave?” She tickled his side. “Come on, admit it. You’re going to be totally cliché aren’t you?”
But he had no interest in talking about his house anymore.
“I’m proud of you,” he said instead.
She furrowed her brow.
“I saw your painting.”
�
�Oh.” She lowered her head and studied the ties on her boots. “What did you think?”
“It was…I don’t know, everything you once were, but deeper, more mature. Truth be told, it broke my heart to see it.”
Her head shot up. “What? Why?”
“Because you got there without me. Because the person who did that painting is someone I miss dearly. Because part of me felt jealous the whole world got to see what used to be only mine.”
“Sometimes I think we’re two irreparably broken souls,” she whispered sadly.
He lifted her hand and lightly kissed the inside of her wrist. “Not tonight.”
She smiled. “No. Not tonight.”
Because for them, tonight was about remembering what it felt like to be safe and burden-free.
“I brought marshmallows. Feel like roasting some?” he asked.
“Sure. But no quick burning. That’s cheating.”
“I like them burnt.”
“No you don’t. You just get impatient.”
She was right. He much preferred her lightly toasted brown ones, but had no intention of exposing that fact. “You’re just jealous because I get four to your every one.”
“Hey, I’d rather have one delicious bite than a thousand gross ones.” She suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh my goodness, do you remember when Beck dared Sean to eat the entire bag without water”
“Yes. He dry heaved for twenty minutes after.” They walked side-by-side back to the dying fire. Tyler threw two more cut logs on the top and watched the flame flare up again. “I still can’t believe he did it.”
“Sean?” She put her hands on her hips. “You can’t believe Sean did it? The guy never backs down from a challenge.”
They met each other’s gaze and both smiled, thinking the exact same thing. April.
Journey settled into one of the lawn chairs. “I have a confession to make.”
He studied her through the smoky air. “Okaaay.”
She must have sensed his tension because she tossed an acorn at him. “Nothing related to you this time.” Covering her face with her hands, she squeaked out her secret. “I’ve been emailing Sean for months. He’s the friend I told you I had dinner with a few weeks ago.” Spreading her fingers, she peeked out at him, anticipation flowing from every one of her movements.
Tyler abandoned his fire stoking and fell into an adjacent chair. Again, that biting loss filtered into his heart.
“Say something,” she urged, dropping her hands.
“How is he?”
She seemed relieved by his response, but still chewed on her pinky nail. “Unhappy. As unhappy as April is, but he at least doesn’t hide it.”
“Well, Sean never was one for pretension.” He eyed her fidgeting fingers, the way she tugged on the ends of her hair, then dropped them. “What did you do?”
“I gave our new athletic director Sean’s number. He’s interviewing him next week.” She hesitated for a heartbeat. “It’s time for him to come home.”
For a moment, Tyler didn’t recognize the girl in front of him. She’d willingly put herself in front of the firing squad that was April’s fury. A place no one had ever survived. Even Sean.
“I knew it. You’re judging me.” She flung her head back, looked up at the stars.
“I’m the last person who has the right to judge, especially when my best friend thinks I betrayed him.”
She sat back up. “Beck?”
Tyler nodded. “He kicked me out.” Never, not in all the times they’d fought as kids or even the disagreements they’d had as adults, had Beck ever reacted so fiercely.
“I know. He told me.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“That you kissed her.”
“No. I did not kiss her,” he said more adamantly than was needed. Eyes fixed on Journey, he said, “I wouldn’t have done that to him or to you. But somehow I did give her the wrong impression and for that I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Journey kicked at a stray leaf by her foot. “Caroline said as much.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yeah. We ran into each other by the pool. She’s pretty, cool, you know? I get a sense that there’s an inner strength in her. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever had.”
He watched her, seeing the change not only in the way she spoke, but in her every action. She’d come here, even after his hateful words, and sacrificed her own feelings for his. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Her voice wavered. “I’m trying to be.”
Tyler studied his hands. “I’m sorry about the other night. You were right about Dustin. About everything.”
Smoke rose in a stream in front of them as Journey seemed to digest his words. “What happened?”
“He got what he wanted and disappeared.” Tyler closed and opened his hands twice before continuing. “He’s not my brother, and I don’t think Norman was a very good guy.”
“I’m so sorry.” Journey watched him with those ever-sympathetic eyes and he wanted to crawl next to her, lay his head in her lap and take all the love she was willing to give. He’d never felt so completely depleted before.
“We both know a baseball bat to the head was the only way I’d ever let go.” He hung his head. “I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid and trusting in the process.”
She shifted her chair closer. Enough that she could take his hand, her caress soothing the ache inside. “Don’t say that. You thought you found your family.”
“Yeah, and instead I got conned.” He shouldn’t be unloading his pain onto her. Not after all he’d put her through, pushing her away, accusing her of only wanting the Kinder name. But this was Journey and she’d always been his sounding board. “I had an appraiser come in and he thinks most of my grandfather’s stuff is stolen.”
“No…are you okay?”
He rubbed his eyes. No, he wasn’t okay. He was the furthest thing from okay. But having Journey here. It made it better. He rolled her hand in his own.
Her blue eyes searched his. “What are you going to do?”
He hadn’t a clue. Last he checked, there was no manual for how to respond after finding out your grandfather was a criminal.
“Not sure yet.”
She inched closer and laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the fire in front of them. “It will all work out.”
“Maybe.” Tyler inhaled the honey scent of her hair and hoped she was right, though in the deepest part of his soul, he knew better.
This last blow had severed something inside he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from.
Chapter 31
Tyler walked toward Lane’s Diner, mist pelting his cheeks. The rain had pushed in last night, abruptly ending the reprieve he and Journey had enjoyed for one quiet evening. They’d stayed out on the property for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes saying nothing. But silence had never been an issue for them. Truth be told, it often spoke louder than any of their words.
He didn’t quite know where they stood—that hadn’t been the point of last night—but he did feel the chasm between them starting to close. They’d forgiven one another. Now the question just seemed to be if their foundation was strong enough to start over. His still felt very, very unstable.
He pulled open the glass doors etched with a stenciled drawing that said Lane’s in cursive next to a grinning hamburger man. The tangy smell of vegetable oil and salt tickled his senses as he weaved between tables of college students, ear buds lodged in their ears, ignoring the world around them in favor of the laptop screen.
Scanning the back, his gaze caught Caroline’s profile in the round corner booth all the way at the back of the restaurant. It was easily big enough to seat five, and fairly secluded from the rest of the patrons. If he had to guess, Caroline wanted privacy for this discussion.
She’d called that morning, asking to meet him there. Demanding, more like it. Apparently, April had waylaid h
er on Sunday and Caroline wanted to talk about it.
Knowing April like he did, he was fully prepared to apologize to Caroline for the duration of the lunch.
He slid into the booth and her head lifted.
“Hey.” She tapped her phone screen and slid it into her purse.
“Hey,” he said slowly. The picture in front of him was jarring. Posture rigid across the table, she was this put together business Caroline with a pin-striped suit and slick, straight hair. Not the messy, curl-up-on-a-couch Caroline with holes in her jeans. He definitely preferred the latter version. “You got here quick.”
“Well, you were right, it’s only two minutes from the office.” She glanced around warily. “And you were also right about it being a complete dive. I’ve used my hand sanitizer three times.”
“You’ll thank me when you try their hand-spun shakes.”
“If I don’t get food poisoning first.”
He grinned and leaned against the cushioned back. “That sentiment is exactly why Beck and I only come here when we’re alone. Whenever we bring the girls here they complain.”
The humor in her expression disappeared. “By girls, you mean Journey and April.” Her voice was scolding, not in a jealous way, but more in a why-did-you-hide-it way. “Ty, when you came over with Francos that night, you told me you were alone. You acted as if you didn’t have any family or friends.”
Okay, so they were going to get right into it. “I don’t have a family. And the friend thing is complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it for me, then.”
He sighed, heavily. “That part of my life was never supposed to infiltrate this one. You were an escape. A break.”
“So you used me.”
“No! Gosh, is that what April told you?” He ran a hand down his face, knowing he needed to be completely honest. “I enjoyed hanging out with you. It was simple and easy, and honestly, I wanted a place they didn’t exist.”
She seemed to acquiesce to that last admission because her mouth relaxed. “I understand that feeling, I do. What I don’t understand is why you needed to be away from them.”