Here's to Now

by Teagan Hunter

  “Fine, but remember: this isn’t me walking away, this is you giving up.”

  I’m sorry, Haley.

  Have you ever had something happen that’s so horrible you pretend it’s all just a dream? You push it aside and continue to forge ahead. You don’t think about it. You sure don’t talk about it. You simply…pretend. If you tell yourself enough times that it never happened, then by some fucking miracle, it didn’t.

  That’s where I am right now.

  It’s been over a week—a miserable one—since I lost it all.

  Haley, my family, my future—everything. It all went right down the fucking drain.

  The worst part? I let it happen when I just stood there like a goddamn idiot. I didn’t say anything as Mercy made her final decision, didn’t put up a fight. I didn’t utter a peep when Haley badgered me with questions or when she walked away from us.

  But, since I’ve been telling myself otherwise, that day didn’t happen. I’m still Gaige. I still work at Jacked Up and I still spend my nights delivering pizzas. I still live with Tucker and I still scowl.

  I’m still me.

  Only I’m not.

  Because I feel nothing…and everything.

  Pain bounces around every inch of my body even though I was never physically struck. It ping-pongs around, gripping my heart every minute of every day, squeezing it until I can no longer breathe and it’s all I can focus on. Then, I fight it, not with fists, but with distractions.

  Work, work, home.

  Vodka.

  Work, work, home.

  Whiskey.

  Work, work, home.

  Sleep.

  That’s my pattern. That’s how I’ve been living this last week.

  If you can even call it living.

  “Hey, man. How you holding up today?”

  “I think I’m still drunk.”

  “Drunk? It’s like”—Hudson checks the watch on his wrist—“eight AM. How is that even possible?”

  “I didn’t sleep last night. I drank.”

  He takes a step closer to me. I back away. “Did you drive?”

  “No, fucker. I’m not that stupid. I walked.”

  “You walked all the way here this morning?”

  “No.” I run a cloth over the headlight I just screwed back in. “I walked all night.”

  “What!”

  His voice reverberates through my head, bouncing off every bad thing swimming around in there. It’s loud and it hurts. “Do you have to fucking yell?”

  “Yes, I do have to fucking yell,” he hisses. “Get your sorry excuse for an employee ass into my office. Now.”

  Throwing the rag down, I kick over one of my many toolboxes as I follow behind my overly sensitive boss. Maddox throws me a look and I flip him off. Screw you and screw Hudson too. I’m in no fucking mood for any of this shit today. I’m drunk. I’m angry. I’m in so much goddamn pain it hurts to even think about doing anything other than opening my eyes.

  Hudson stands in the doorway of his office, slamming the heavy oak behind me once I pass through the threshold. I throw myself onto the couch he has in there, not even caring as he stands over me, glowering at my relaxed form.

  “Get the fuck up, Gaige.”

  I don’t.

  He kicks at my foot resting on the floor. “Up.”

  Down.

  “Get. Up.”

  When I don’t move, he reaches down and grabs hold of my collar, jerking me into a sitting position. At any other point in my life, I’d be surprised Hudson’s being so hands-on right now, shocked at the way he’s handling this entire situation, but right now, I don’t fucking care.

  He drags me closer to him, his face mere inches from mine. He’s scowling, and it’s the scariest fucking look I’ve ever seen on his face. Fury doesn’t cover it. Rage isn’t even close. It’s so much more than that because it’s mixed with worry and sorrow.

  Fuck. Why does he have to be such a good friend? It makes it hard to keep pretending everything is fine when he’s staring me down with unshed tears of concern in his eyes.

  “You need to get your shit together, Gaige. Do you have any idea what you’re putting your wife through?”

  What I’m putting her through? She’s the one who walked away!

  “Who?”

  He shakes me hard and snarls. “Don’t be a prick, Addams. You fucking know who. Your. Wife. The one you sat next to not even three weeks ago while proudly telling us how in love you were. The one you kept a shameful fucking secret for months.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I spit out before I realize what I’m saying.

  He relents on his grip but doesn’t fully let me go. “What?”

  “Our relationship. It wasn’t shameful; we just didn’t think it was anyone’s business. We didn’t hide it to be deceitful or because we weren’t proud. We did it so we could just be us without all of you people butting the fuck in.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?”

  “Your judgments. We didn’t want them.”

  “When have I ever judged you?”

  “You don’t know enough about me to judge me.”

  He drops me back onto the couch without warning, throwing his hands up in the air like he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. Placing his hands on his hips, he begins to pace, tossing a couple headshakes and scoffs my way.

  Whatever. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of in his past. The worst nightmare of his life turned into the best thing to ever happen to him. Hudson’s lived a blessed life. He doesn’t understand the shit I’ve been through.

  “You think I don’t know you?” There’s venom laced in his words. “That’s a load of shit. I bet I know more about you than you think.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Gaige, and I’ve never once fucking judged you. I don’t care that some kid overdosed in your apartment or about what else happened that night. I don’t care that you have a criminal record. I don’t give two fucking shits that you walked out on your family twice. Why? Because none of that changes the fact that you’re the greatest fucking man I’ve ever known.”

  Okay. I have to still be drunk because he did not just say all that. I blink up at him, waiting for more.

  He sighs and takes a seat next to me. “I swear, man, you’re out to make your life a miserable one. So you screwed up royally, and more than once—we all have. That doesn’t make you who you are. You’re one of the most well-adjusted guys I know considering all the shit that’s been slung your way, even if you were the one to do half of the slinging. I admire you, Gaige.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “How you even think I’d care for one second about your past hurts like hell. I thought we were better friends than that. I thought you could trust me more than that. I thought you were a better man than that.”

  I sit there in the soundless room with him. He doesn’t move. I don’t move.

  He admires me? How is that even possible? No one should admire me. I’m a fuck-up. An asshole. A grade-A dick most of the time. I don’t do well in social settings and I sure as hell can’t manage my life. I don’t have anything going for me outside of being able to draw some fucking trees. I have nothing concrete in my life…not anymore. How can anyone admire something so broken?

  “Who told you?”

  “What?”

  “About all that shit. I’ve never said anything to you or Tuck about the kid, so, who told you?”

  He winces. “Horton.”

  “When?”

  “When you started working here.”

  Gritting my teeth together, I bite out, “Are you fucking serious? How come you two never mentioned shit?”

  His weird ocean-like eyes fall to slits. “Because it’s never mattered to either of us, you asshole.”

  “How!” I sit up, gripping at my wayward hair. I haven’t done anything with it in days—hell, I don’t even remember the last time I actually showered. I do a quick sniff test. Way too fucking long ago.
>
  “Does it matter to you that I knocked up my high school girlfriend at sixteen? Became a father at seventeen? Or that I walked out of my father’s life for years, never to reconcile with him before he died? Does it matter to you that Tucker fell in love with his brother’s girl? No? Okay. Then we never cared what happened in your past. You made mistakes. Tucker made mistakes. I made mistakes. We all fucking did, but that’s life, Gaige. We’ve all moved on. We’ve all grown from those mistakes and we strive every fucking day to be better men than we were then, and we’re all doing a damn fine job at it.”

  Holding my head in my hands, I let his words sink in. I had no idea they knew the details of that night. I never divulged it all. Sure, bits and pieces here and there, but I never told them everything. I couldn’t, couldn’t let them know I was the one who caused my parents’ car accident, that I’m the real reason they’re dead.

  “I can’t believe you two knew.”

  “Of course we did. We’re your best friends. We know everything about you.” He sniffs dramatically. “Like how you haven’t showered in probably four days. You fucking reek, man.”

  I grimace. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  “Are you really still drunk?”

  “Kind of. It’s wearing off now.”

  “How are you going to fix this?”

  His question lances through me. “Is that even possible? Fixing this?”

  Hudson goes quiet. I grow worried. If he doesn’t think I can do it, I can’t. He’s the king of fixing shit. I’m the king of screwing it up.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Go in there guns blazing. Tell Mercy you’re done taking her shit. You’ve earned the right to have guardianship of those kids, especially since you’ve been taking care of them more than she has. Tell Haley you love her, that you fucked up and you shouldn’t have let her walk away and think you gave up.”

  I glance back at him, brow raised.

  He shrugs innocently. “What? Rae told me.”

  I laugh, and it’s the first real laugh I’ve had in way too long. “Figures. Gossiping hens, the two of you.”

  “We gotta keep the gang in line somehow.”

  “How do you even be a father?” I say suddenly. “What if Mercy is right? Maybe I’m not ready for four kids. I can barely handle my own life half the time—there’s no way I can manage theirs.”

  “Truth? Being a dad is simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing I’ve ever done. When you raise a child, your life becomes full of wild cards. You never have any idea what to expect from one moment to the next. But, that’s the beauty of it too. It’s all random, fun. Life gets interesting, in a good way. You stop worrying so much about shit and you just live. I know a lot of people talk about how being a parent weighs them down and makes them tired and full of want, but I don’t feel that at all. Joey gives me a new sense of myself and of life. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t, and never will, regret becoming a parent, not ever.”

  “Do you ever mess up?”

  “All the time. We all do.”

  “How do you not screw her up?”

  He sits up, sliding forward until we’re sitting elbow to elbow. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he says, leaning in close. “I’m not perfect, but I’m damn close. That’s how.”

  I roll my eyes and huff. “I’m being serious, Hudson!”

  “So am I!” he defends. “There’s no magic trick to parenthood, Gaige. It’s all a guessing game. Joey’s alive and happy—that’s how I know I’m not screwing her up. That’s all I can ask for.”

  “Do you think I’d be a good parent?”

  He smirks. “Gaige, you’d rival me in the perfect parent category any day.”

  “How reassuring,” I deadpan.

  Knocking his arm with mine, he says, “There’s that charm we’ve all been missing.”

  “I never said thank you,” I say quietly after several minutes of silence.

  “For what?”

  “Taking her home the other night. I’m the worst husband ever. I didn’t even think about how she’d get home. I just needed to get away and booked it out of there like a moron.”

  “It’s no problem, man. She was pretty distraught though. I could barely make out what she was saying. She even hugged me. It was a rough night.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop. Stop saying that to me. I don’t need your apologies.”

  “She does.”

  “You’re fucking right she does. So, what are you going to do about it?”

  I cough out a sad laugh. “I doubt she’ll answer my calls.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “I think this is something worthy of more than a phone call or text.”

  He rubs his fingers over his chin. “Hmm. Good point.” Snapping his fingers, he bounces in his seat. “Go to her! Go to the apartment on your hands and knees and tell her how much of a stupid, selfish asshole you are. That should do it.”

  “I think you really just wanted to call me names right there.”

  He shrugs. “Probably. But…”

  “I think”—thick swallow—“I’m going to go talk to my wife.”

  Clapping me on the back, he smiles wide, saying, “Good idea, Gaige. Good damn idea.”

  The last time I found myself in this hallway in a state of distress, I was waiting for Haley to unlock her door and let me in.

  This time, I have a key.

  Yet, I’m still standing here, staring at a door that’s ruthlessly taunting me. The need to flee eats at me until I’m ready to vomit. Everything feels like it’s too much. I want nothing more than for Haley to open the door right now so I don’t have to. I want to go back to when I was simply nervous to be her friend.

  Now I’m worried I can’t save my marriage.

  Fuck, time is a funny, fickle bitch.

  After my talk with Hudson, I was sent home…well, back to Tucker’s; that isn’t my home anymore. In fact, it hasn’t ever been home. This place, this apartment, Haley…that’s home. She is home. I’m just not sure if I’m welcome here anymore.

  I flatten myself against the wall as much as I can. Somehow, finding something to attach myself to centers me. Right now I’ve anchored myself to the wall, too scared to let go and test the waters. What if I’m too late? What if she’s moved on? Realized she made a mistake marrying a man with a stupid amount of baggage?

  What if…it was never real?

  Fuck. I need to get out of my own head.

  “Gaige?”

  Shit. Shit. SHIT.

  I push off the wall, trying my best to make all my movements look natural and not forced, even though they are. My limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each with the way I’m barely keeping myself standing.

  I drift my eyes toward the voice from down the hall. I have to lean back against the wall or I’ll fall, because the sight of her about knocks me to my knees. She’s stunning. Her perfect, curvy body. Her touchable, delicate skin. Her light brown hair. Everything. My fingers itch to reach out and brush the strand of hair over her eye, to touch her golden skin, to thread her silky hair through my hands. I want to touch her—no, I need to touch her.

  I take a step toward her. She hesitates on her step back.

  I snap my gaze to hers and still my steps as I notice the small, almost hidden details. Her dark olive green eyes are swollen, her cheeks flushed. She looks like she hasn’t slept in a month or more. Mouth slightly ajar, there’s a crinkle smack dab in the middle of her brows. I’ve managed to surprise her and draw concern all at once.

  And still, all I want to do is touch her.

  I take another step. She doesn’t move.

  Step. Stall. Step. Stall.

  The trek is endless, until I’m all out of room.

  Standing only inches from her, I clench my fists together to stop myself from reaching for her when I have no idea where it is we stand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Y
ou.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m here for you.”

  “Gaige,” she says, sounding exhausted. “I’ve had a long day.”

  “I’ve had a long week.”

  Her eyes water. She bites her lip and averts her gaze. “I have too.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Lifting her chin a notch, she says, “That’s not enough.”

  “I love you.”

  Her eyes close. “I’ve missed those words.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Then she’s in my arms, and suddenly my world is right. I wrap her tightly in my embrace until I’m certain I’m crushing her. She hugs me back just as strongly. I can feel her tears soaking into my shirt, and I do everything I can to hold back my own. The moment is overwhelming and not enough all at once.

  Threading my fingers through her hair, I gently pull her head back and fit my lips over hers. I don’t pause when I taste the salt from her tears. Instead, I devour it, needing to somehow clean up my mess. She kisses me back with equal eagerness, clutching my back and holding me to her.

  I press her against the wall and continue my assault on her lips, our kiss turning hard and rushed. My lips ache from how roughly we’re moving them together. Haley presses into me as I push myself back on her. We’re fighting for more, and I’m just glad we’re fighting for the same thing.

  After who knows how long, the kiss turns gentler and our intense movements grow languid and soft. Our lips are barely brushing together at this point, yet it feels so fucking satisfying.

  “I love you,” I tell her again, my lips still softly caressing hers. I press my forehead to hers, ready to give the speech of a lifetime. “I’m so fucking sorry I never told you about the kids. I was terrified if I spoke of it out loud, it’d never come to pass. Stupid, I know. You have to understand, I’ve never been dealt a good hand in life. This is how I’ve always tried to make things go my way. I guess it’s like when you play the lottery. You don’t sit there and daydream about it and you sure as shit don’t talk about it. You buy your ticket, put it away, and ignore it until one day, it just happens. You’ve won. Your entire life fucking changes. That’s what I do. I play the lottery with life.” Pressing my forehead against hers harder, squeezing my eyes shut just a bit tighter, I whisper, “And I always fucking lose.”