Regretting You

by Hoover, Colleen

  “I know.” I blow out a rush of air. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me that Jonah would do something like that. He only moved back here and started dating Jenny because he got her pregnant. Not because they were madly in love. But my mother . . . her and Dad have been together since high school. It’s like she had absolutely no respect for my father.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe she and Jonah are just grieving.”

  “That didn’t look like grief to me.”

  “Maybe finding solace in each other helps with the grief.”

  I don’t even want to think about that. It’s a weird way to grieve. “Well. Me skipping school helps with my grief. So thank you.”

  “Anytime. Well, anytime except last period. I have a test, so I need to get back soon.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “You doing anything for your birthday tonight?”

  I shrug. “It’s always been tradition to do family birthday dinners. But I guess that’s out. We barely have a family left.”

  Miller’s arms tighten around me. It makes me miss my father’s hugs. Even Jonah’s hug today made me miss him. “Well, if your mom will let you, I’ll take you out.”

  “I highly doubt she’s going to let me leave, and I might be too tired to fight her on it.”

  “It makes me sad to think you might spend your birthday alone in your room.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s just another day.”

  I wonder what my father would think about seeing me so sad on my birthday. He’d probably be disappointed we aren’t continuing the family birthday dinner. I bet Aunt Jenny would be disappointed about it too. We’ve never missed one for as far back as I can remember.

  It makes me wonder why I automatically assumed the tradition would stop with their deaths. They wouldn’t want it to stop.

  Even though my mother seems to have lost her respect for the tradition, that doesn’t necessarily mean the tradition shouldn’t continue. At least this way, I could see Miller tonight.

  I sit up and look at him. “You know what? I do want a birthday dinner tonight. And I want you to come.”

  He raises a cautious eyebrow. “I don’t know. Your mom didn’t seem like she’d ever welcome me back into your house.”

  “I’ll talk to her when I get home. If she has an issue with it, I’ll call you.”

  “You don’t have a phone.”

  “I’ll call you from our home phone.”

  “People still have those?”

  I laugh. “She’s only thirty-four, but she’s an ancient thirty-four-year-old.”

  I lean back against him, thinking about my birthday. It really isn’t fair if she tries to ground me. If she does, I might throw the Langford in her face. I let a slow roll of air pass through my lungs. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. The idea that the two of them were having a hotel tryst just a week after the accident makes me want revenge.

  I try not to think about it. I turn around and straddle Miller, and then I kiss him for several minutes. It’s a good distraction, but he eventually has to drive us back to the school.

  I wait out the final class period in my car before going home, which is probably a bad idea, because the entire time I sit in my car, I think about all the ways I can fight for the vengeance my dad and Jenny deserve.

  I head home, even angrier than when I left for school this morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  MORGAN

  I’m in Clara’s bedroom closet hanging up clothes when she gets home from school. I’ve been keeping myself preoccupied all day with cleaning, laundry, mindless organization. It’s not lost on me that I never left the house today, so I really should have never cancelled the cable technician. I could be catching up on Real Housewives right about now.

  I hear Clara making her way down the hallway, so I brace for impact. I expect her to scream at me or give me the silent treatment. It’ll be one or the other. I’m hanging up the last shirt when she walks into her room and drops her backpack on the bed.

  “What are we eating for my birthday dinner tonight? I’m hungry.”

  I stare at her cautiously because I feel like this is some sort of trick. She still wants to do a dinner? That surprises me. But I go along with it, just in case it’s sincere. I hope it’s sincere. “I was thinking lasagna,” I say. I know lasagna is her favorite.

  She nods. “Perfect.”

  I might need to run to the grocery store now, but I’d do anything at this point to have an opportunity to open up a conversation with her. And this dinner will be the perfect opportunity. Maybe she realizes that too. Without Jenny and Chris here, Jonah won’t be here. It’ll just be the two of us. We’re long past due for a serious heart-to-heart.

  I’m chopping tomatoes for the salad when the doorbell rings. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and begin making my way to the front door. Surprisingly, I’m intercepted by Clara. She swings open the door, and I’m taken aback by the sight of Jonah and Elijah.

  What is he doing here? Did he really think the dinner was still on after last night?

  I expect Clara to slam the door in his face, but she doesn’t. He hands her a box, and even though I’m on my tiptoes in the doorway to the kitchen, trying to see what it is, I have no idea what he’s just given her.

  “Seriously?” She sounds excited. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone.

  “I had an old phone in a drawer at the house,” Jonah says.

  “This is the latest model, though.”

  “I took the old one.”

  Clara lets him in, and I slip back into the kitchen. Why did he buy her a phone? Is that his way of winning her over? That’s not how you parent, Jonah.

  “I already put your old sim card in it, so it should be ready to go.”

  “Thanks.”

  It’s nice hearing a hint of joy in her voice, but it’s hard to feel relief when Jonah is walking into the kitchen behind me.

  “You bought her a new phone?” I ask, without turning around.

  “She dropped hers today in class. It broke, so I gave her one of mine.”

  I suck in air before turning around to face him. I hate how I feel around him after last night. As brief as that kiss was, it feels like it’s still lingering. Like I can still taste him on my lips. “What are you doing here?”

  “Clara called about an hour ago. She said her birthday dinner was still happening.”

  I look in the direction of Clara’s room with narrowed eyes. “What is she up to?”

  Jonah shrugs, adjusting Elijah in his arms. “Maybe she’s okay with it.”

  “With what?”

  “With us.”

  “She’s not. And there is no us.” With that, I spin around and finish making the salad.

  Jonah takes a seat at the table and begins playing with Elijah by making faces at him. It’s adorable and awful. I can’t stop stealing glimpses of him because his interaction with his son is breathtaking. Maybe even more so because I know Elijah isn’t even his biological child, yet the love Jonah has for him is the same as if he were. I hate that Elijah is a result of Chris and Jenny’s betrayal, but I love that it doesn’t matter to Jonah.

  Seeing him with Elijah is making me think too many good thoughts about him, so I walk over and take Elijah from Jonah, just so I can stop the feelings that are rocketing through me. I sit at the table and turn Elijah toward me. He smiles. He gets excited to see me now, and it melts my heart every time.

  “You need help with anything?” Jonah asks.

  “You can put icing on the cake,” I suggest. Anything to get him out of my line of sight.

  Jonah just finishes icing the cake when the doorbell rings again. We both look at each other with confusion. “You expecting anyone else?”

  I shake my head, then hand him Elijah before I head to the front door. But once again, Clara is rushing across the living room, beating me to the door. When she opens it, I freeze.

  Miller Adams is standing in the doorway. He
looks nervous, but I have no time to register his appearance or even yell at him before Clara grabs his hand and pulls him into the house. Jonah is standing next to me now. Clara is dragging Miller toward the hallway when Miller gives us a half wave.

  “Hey, Mr. Sullivan.” He swallows, and his voice is quieter when he addresses me. “Mrs. Grant.”

  We don’t even have the opportunity to say anything back because Clara has pulled him out of the living room.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.

  “About what?” Jonah asks.

  I look at him incredulously, but then I realize he has no idea what Clara did last night. I push on his shoulder, shoving him back to the kitchen. He turns to face me, and I’m trying to keep my voice down despite my anger. “I caught them in bed together this morning,” I hiss. “There were condoms on the table. Clara was practically naked. He slept in her room the entire night!”

  Jonah’s eyes widen. “Oh. Wow.”

  I fold my arms together and slump down in one of the breakfast nook chairs. “She’s testing me.” I look up at Jonah for a little bit of advice. “Do I make him leave?”

  Jonah shrugs. “It’s just dinner. It’s not like he’s gonna get her pregnant at the table.”

  “You’re way too lenient.”

  “It’s her birthday. She was upset with us last night, so she probably invited him over out of spite. At least he’s here and you’ll have a chance to get to know him better.”

  I roll my eyes and push myself out of the chair. “Dinner is ready. Go tell them before he gets her pregnant.”

  This is so awkward. Not only because I know Miller more than likely took my daughter’s virginity last night but because Jonah and I are barely speaking. We haven’t discussed what happened between us, and that hangs thickly in the air.

  Clara has only given me clipped answers when I try to talk to her, so I finally stopped asking her questions because it was embarrassing. Miller and Clara aren’t even really talking because she’s scarfing down her lasagna like we’re at a food-eating contest.

  Jonah is holding Elijah, feeding him a bottle as he eats. It’s cute, so I stare down at my plate and avoid looking at them.

  “How’s the film project coming along?” Jonah asks.

  Miller shrugs. “Slowly. We haven’t come up with a solid idea yet, but we’ll get there.”

  Yeah, because you’re too busy doing other things, I want to say.

  Clara points her fork at Miller’s plate. “Eat faster.”

  I can see the confusion in his expression, but he picks up his fork and takes another bite.

  I know exactly what she’s doing. She’s playing nice, hoping all will be forgiven if she spends her birthday dinner with me. She figures if she doesn’t put up a fight, then I won’t put up a fight when dinner is over, and she wants to leave with Miller.

  She’s not leaving with him. Not a chance in hell.

  Clara finishes her food and stands up. She walks her plate into the kitchen. When she comes back, she looks at Miller. “You finished?” He’s midbite when she pulls his plate from him regardless.

  “There’s still cake to eat,” I say, pointing at the three-layer chocolate cake in the center of the table.

  Clara stares at me. Hard. She grabs Miller’s fork from him without breaking her stare, and she digs it into the center of the cake, then shoves a bite into her mouth.

  “Delicious,” she says wryly. She drops the fork and takes Miller’s hand. “Ready?”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “A ball game,” Clara says.

  “It’s not a game night.”

  Clara tilts her head. “You sure about that, Mom? I mean, you weren’t even sure it was my birthday this morning.”

  “I knew it was your birthday. I was just momentarily shaken by the fact that your boyfriend slept in your bed last night.”

  Clara smirks. “Oh, we didn’t sleep.”

  Miller mutters, “Yes we did,” from behind her.

  I look at Miller. “You can go now. Tell Clara good night.”

  Clara looks at Miller. “Don’t leave yet. I’m coming with you.”

  Miller looks from me to Clara, like he’s torn. I’d feel bad for him if I wasn’t so angry at him.

  “Miller, it’s probably best if you just go,” Jonah says.

  Clara rolls her head, stopping it when her eyes land on Jonah. “If he’s leaving, you should go too. You don’t live here.”

  Jonah seems over her attitude just as much as I am. “Clara, stop.”

  “Don’t tell me to stop. You aren’t my dad.”

  “I’m not trying to be.”

  I’m standing now. This is going way too far.

  Miller turns and heads for the door, as if he senses the bomb is about to explode, and he doesn’t want to be injured by the shrapnel.

  Clara backs her way to the front door. “It’s my birthday. I’m protesting my punishment on the grounds that it was your example that forced me to break the rules last night.” She opens the door. “I’ll be home by curfew.”

  I start to walk around the table in a rush to the door, but Jonah grabs my wrist. “Let her go.”

  I look down at his hand clamped around my wrist. “You can’t be serious.”

  Jonah stands up, forcing my eyes upward because he looms over me. “You need to tell her the truth, Morgan.”

  “No.”

  “You’re losing control of her. She hates you. She blames you for everything.”

  “She’s sixteen. She’ll get over it.”

  “She’s seventeen. And what if she doesn’t?”

  I can’t have this conversation with him right now. “She’s right. You should go too.”

  Jonah doesn’t protest. He grabs Elijah’s things, and they leave. Jonah doesn’t even say goodbye.

  I stare back at the kitchen table—at all the uneaten food and the near-perfect cake.

  I slump into a chair, grab a fork, and take a bite of it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CLARA

  I’m leaning against Miller’s truck with him when Jonah comes outside with Elijah. I turn and stare toward the road so I don’t have to look at him.

  As evidenced in class today, I get a lot angrier when we make eye contact. And even though he was nice enough not to punish me, and then later gave me his phone, I realize he did both of those things out of guilt because he knows what he’s done. And now he’s here, having family dinner with us like my father never even existed.

  I hear him as he’s buckling Elijah into place in the back seat of his car. Then I hear the door close. I blow out a quiet breath, relieved he’s leaving, but then suck in another rush of air when I realize he didn’t open his car door. I glance toward the front of Miller’s truck to see Jonah making his way over to us. My posture grows rigid when he stops two feet in front of me.

  He places both his hands firmly on my shoulders and then leans forward and kisses me on top of my head. “You’re better than this, Clara. We all are.” He backs away. “Happy birthday.”

  When Jonah finally pulls out of the driveway, I roll my eyes and push off Miller’s truck. I lean against his chest, just wanting to feel the soothing sound of his heartbeat against my cheek. He presses his chin against the top of my head as he wraps his arms around me. “Is this how it always is?” he asks.

  “Lately, yes.”

  Miller’s chest rises and then falls, just once. Heavily. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  I pull back and look up. “You don’t have to come over anymore. I wouldn’t even blame you.”

  Miller is looking at me regretfully. “I don’t mean dinner with your family.”

  I stare at him a moment—long enough to make out irritation in his expression. I take a step back. His arms fall to his sides. “It’s my birthday.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “You’re breaking up with me on my birthday?”

  He drags a hand down his
face. “No. I’m just . . .” He can’t even finish whatever it is he’s about to say. Probably because he knows what a jerk he’s being right now.

  I take another step back. “You slept with me last night, and now you’re dumping me? Really?” I spin around and head back to my house. “Guess I was wrong about you too.”

  I can hear him sprinting after me. He intercepts me before I make it to the front patio. He grips my face with both hands, but it isn’t a gentle grip. It’s not a rough one, either, but based on the anger in his expression, it’s not a touch I really want right now.

  “You don’t get to throw that in my face, Clara. I was the one who was taken advantage of last night. Not you.” With that, he drops his hands and walks back to his truck. When I hear him open his door, I flinch.

  “I’m sorry.” I face him. “I’m sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say and an even shittier thing to do.” I walk back to his truck. “But why are you doing this? This morning, in my car, you acted like you forgave me for last night.” I feel panicky. Miller’s expression is torn as he taps his fist against the frame of his door. Then he slams it shut and pulls me in for a frustrated hug.

  “I know you and your mother aren’t getting along right now.” He looks down at me, his hands tilting my face up to his. “But I feel like you’re using me as your weapon in all these fights against her. It’s not fair to me.”

  “I didn’t know it was going to turn into what it turned into.”

  “It’s your fault it turned into that. You weren’t the victim in there tonight, Clara. You were the instigator.”

  I shrug myself from his grip. “You have a bad memory if you think tonight was my fault. In case you forgot, I found out my mother has been having an affair with Jonah.”

  Miller opens his door and gets in his truck. I plant myself in the space between him and his door so that he can’t shut it. His head falls against the back of his seat. “I want to go home.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  He rolls his head until he’s looking at me. “I want to go alone.”

  I’m not going to beg. I did enough of that last night. “That’s unfortunate.” I back away so that he can shut his door. He cranks his truck but rolls down the window.