The Problem with Forever (37 page)

“Actually, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.” I toyed with the tab of my soda. “Okay.”

He walked around the coffee table and sat on the couch—on the third cushion, putting an entire cushion between us. My fingers stilled on the tab. “I don’t know how to say this,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. He slowly shook his head. “I really care about you, Mallory. I really do.”

Oh, God.

I put the soda on the end table before I dropped it. “I really care about you. I...I love you, Rider.”

His jaw flexed. “Yesterday was a mistake.”

My lips parted on a sharp inhale. I didn’t hear him right. There was no way I heard him right.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy what...what we did. I do—I did, but this can’t go on. We can’t get together. Not like this,” he said in that same flat tone. “I’m sorry.”

For several moments all I could do was stare at him. I tried to process what he was saying, but the pounding blood in my head made it difficult. “I...I don’t understand.”

“We can’t be together,” he repeated, still not looking at me. A crack fissured my chest, and I sucked in air, because it felt so real, a line of fiery pain. “We can be friends, but that’s...that’s all.”

“I don’t want to be just friends with you,” I blurted out as I jerked forward. “You said you loved me. Just yesterday.” My voice caught as the knot expanded in my throat. “Like a little over twenty-four hours ago. I don’t understand.”

He placed his palm to his forehead. “I do love you.”

“Then why are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” I put my hand on the couch, grounding myself, because it felt like it was moving. Like the entire world was trembling. “That doesn’t...make any sense.”

“I just can’t be with you. It’s over.”

Then the strangest thing happened. An odd, almost suffocating feeling of relief hit me. It was over. I could just go back to the way—

I stopped.

Everything stopped.

That wasn’t me anymore. I didn’t give up and give in just because it was easy. I wasn’t
her
anymore.

“This is for the best, Mouse.”

“Don’t call me Mouse,” I snapped as fury flooded my system, overtaking the welling hurt and washing it away. “I am not Mouse. That girl doesn’t exist anymore.”

Rider recoiled as if I’d slapped him. “Mallory...”

“No. Don’t look at me like I’ve hurt you.” I rose from the couch, hands curling into fists. “You need to give me a better explanation than just because. You owe me that.”

He lifted his chin, his eyes bright as he finally looked at me. The shadows beneath them were deeper, darker. “Don’t you get it?”

“No. Obviously I don’t.”

Rider stared at me for a moment. “You deserve better than me.”

My mouth dropped open.

“And you shouldn’t be fighting with Rosa and Carl because of me. They took you in, gave you the world, and I’m not going to come between you,” he said, and I think he kept talking, but I really wasn’t hearing him.

You deserve better than me?

Wasn’t that the same thing Paige had said before she said the opposite? It
was
.

“Are you serious?” I cut him off. “Are you really serious right now?”

He swallowed. “Yes, Mou—
Mallory
, I’m serious.”

I laughed, but there wasn’t any humor to the sound whatsoever. “So let me get this straight. You’re breaking up with me because it’s what’s best for me. Because you don’t want to come between me and Rosa and Carl?” There were no pauses in my words now. “It’s because of what happened this weekend.”

Straightening, he raised his hands. “It’s more than that, Mallory. You and I—we aren’t the same. We used to be, but not anymore. You’re going in one direction and I’m staying the same. That’s how it’s going to be.”

My hands unclenched. Funny. For the longest time it felt like everyone around me was going places while I sat, immobile and stuck, but this whole time I really had been moving and it had been Rider who wasn’t.

“You’re so wrong,” I breathed.

His brows shot up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “You know what we used to be? We were just discarded trash. That’s how we were treated. There’s no prettying up that shit. Our fucking parents didn’t want us. Or maybe they just died in some tragic car accident or couldn’t keep us. Who knows? I asked. Do you know that? No answer. No one cared enough to find out. And Miss Becky and Mr. Henry? We don’t even have to talk about that mess,” he continued, eyes flashing. “And the group home I was in afterward? They tried—the staff. They really did, but they couldn’t keep their eyes on everything. By the time Mrs. Luna came around, what the hell was the point?”

I paled. Whoa. I was not expecting all of that.

He wasn’t finished. “You got out of all of this. I didn’t. What you have is real. I don’t have that. I’m just pretending.”

I flinched. “I don’t understand. Hector’s family is good people. How can you say that I got out and you didn’t?”

“It’s not the same. I’m just temporary. It’s nothing like what you have with Carl and Rosa.”

Staring at him, I shook my head. “That is utter...bullshit.”

He blinked. “Did you just cuss?”

“Yes. Yes, I did, because that’s bullshit,” I repeated. “Hector’s family cares about you. I don’t know Mrs. Luna that well, but it only took two minutes around her for me to see that she thinks of you as one of her boys. They all care about you. They don’t treat you any differently, or like you’re a burden to them.”

Rider said nothing.

“Or do they?” I demanded. “Do they treat you like a burden?”

The muscle along his jaw throbbed. “They don’t, but—”

“But nothing!” I shouted, and he jerked again. It was probably the loudest I’d ever spoken in my entire life, but dammit, disbelief and frustration beat at me. “They love you, Rider. And they need you now, more than ever. Hector just lost his brother. Mrs. Luna is burying her youngest grandchild—a boy who once told me you were a second brother to him. Yesterday you said you wanted to be there for them, but how can you when you refuse to acknowledge that you’re their family and they’re yours?” I took a breath but it went nowhere. “You know what I said to you yesterday? It’s true. So damn true. You gave up on yourself before they even had a chance!”

“Mallory—”

“And you’re doing it to us! You’re giving up on us before we even get started. And worse yet, you’re using me as an excuse. You’re going to do what you always did—protect me when you shouldn’t have.”

“This isn’t like before,” he stated quietly.

“Yes. Yes it is. You have no sense of self-preservation.” I took a step toward him, but stopped. If I got close enough, I might beat him with a throw pillow. “I always thought you had taken on this role as a knight in shining armor, but I was wrong. You’re just a martyr.”

He looked like I had picked up a throw pillow and beaten him with it.

“What is it with you, Rider? You are so freaking smart and so damn talented, but you—
you
—
” I raised my hand and pointed at him “—you don’t try, and the moment something becomes hard, you run. You give up. That wasn’t the Rider I knew growing up. You were a fighter back then, but when it matters most, like with your damn life, you just give up.”

“I don’t...”

“You do.” Tears clawed their way up the back of my throat as I stared at him. God, this wasn’t fair. This was so damn unfair. “I sat in this kitchen yesterday and I told Rosa that I loved you. I told her not to tell me how I felt and begged her to give you a chance. She promised that she would. And now you’re standing here telling me that what you have isn’t real. You can’t just say that about your foster home. It’s also about me—about us. You’re saying what we had was never real.”

Rider grimaced as he closed his eyes.

I sucked in a shaky breath. “Did you ever fill out those SAT forms I picked up for you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did you?”

“No,” he whispered.

My heart shattered. “The boy that you keep painting—the one at the warehouse and at the art gallery? That boy is you, isn’t it?”

Rider didn’t say anything.

“It’s not you from the past,” I whispered. His handsome face blurred. “That’s still who you are.”

He closed his eyes.

“And you know what? This whole time I’ve thought I was the one who was messed up. That I was the one who walked away from that damn house damaged and screwed up. I thought it was
me
.” My voice broke as I backed away. “And it wasn’t. It was you. It’s always been
you
.”

His gaze rose to mine and the pain in his eyes was a punch to the gut, because he was doing this to himself. And God, that hurt more than anything else. This was on him. Not me.

It was always on him.

He put that weight on his shoulders; he found guilt and responsibility wherever he could and he hugged that mess close. This wasn’t me giving up on him. This was always him giving up on himself. It struck me then, and it took everything to swallow down the sob.

“You’re stuck,” I whispered.

Rider stiffened.

“It’s true.” I smoothed my hands over my hips. “You’ve had years—eighteen years of feeling this way. No conversation is going to undo years of feeling like you’re nothing, of ignoring all those around you telling you that you do matter. The Lunas couldn’t fix that. Oh my God, I can’t undo that. I can’t fix that. I would’ve tried—” My breath caught again. “I would’ve tried, because I love you, I love you so very much, but you have to be the one to change it. Not me.”

“Mallory.” He stood and took a step toward me.

“No.” I held my hand up and tried not to see how it shook. “You—you need to leave.”

He blanched. “I’m—”

“Please. Just leave. Go.” I could feel my face start to crumple. “There is nothing else I can say. Go.”

Rider hesitated, and for a sweet, hopeful second, I thought he was going to ignore me. I thought that maybe something I said reached him, triggered something in him and he was going to fight for us, for him.

But he didn’t.

He turned and walked toward the door, and in a daze, I followed him. I wanted to keep following him. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted him to see what I saw in him, what I knew Rosa and Carl would see if given the chance. But I didn’t, because how in the world could I fight for him when he wouldn’t even fight for himself?

So I did what I never thought I would.

I closed the door on Rider.

Chapter 36

My chest was a hollow, empty shell.

Okay
,
maybe I’m overreacting a tad
, I thought as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. But that was how it felt since I’d closed the door on Rider yesterday. I’d holed myself in the room. I didn’t go to school Wednesday. Lame, but I just couldn’t do it.

The last couple of days had been too much. Every high and every low that could happen had been experienced. Love. Loss. Love. Loss again.

I needed a break. I needed quiet time. So I took it.

That was something I’d learned from my time with Dr. Taft. When things got overwhelming, when you were stressed and stretched too thin, it was time to take a breather. He was all about mental health days. I remembered him ranting once about how if someone coughed, they were given time off from work, but if someone was mentally fatigued, they were expected to suck it up.

I’d told Rosa I wasn’t feeling well, and considering she didn’t take my temperature or force cold meds down my throat, I figured she knew that what kept me in bed wasn’t something she could treat.

My chest ached. It felt empty, but the emptiness hurt. I hated that Rider had done this right now, when he had to be hurting so deeply over the loss of Jayden and I couldn’t be there for him.

Clutching the pillow to my chest, I rolled onto my side and squeezed my eyes shut. I finally realized that I’d changed and at the same time I discovered that Rider hadn’t.

I curled my knees up against the pillow as I thought back to the first day of school, to the first time I’d seen Rider. I replayed all the times we’d hung out and the things we’d told each other. The signs had been there. I’d noticed them then, but I didn’t know how deep the scars ran in Rider. I’d been so wrapped up in everything that I had going on and in how Rider was making me feel. Could there have been something I could’ve done weeks, months ago?

I wasn’t sure.

It had taken four years for me to begin the process of changing and even though I wasn’t the same girl I used to be, I was still a...a work in progress. Rider hadn’t even taken the first step.

Keira texted in the afternoon, asking if I was okay. I let her know that I wasn’t feeling well and then dropped my cell on the bed beside me.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I would get up and go to school. I couldn’t stay in bed forever. Saturday I would go to Jayden’s funeral, and I would be there for Rider if he needed someone to talk to. I couldn’t not do that, but that was as far as I could go. I was willing to fight for us to be together, but it couldn’t be one-sided. Rider would have to fight, too.

And he had chosen not to.

My eyes were damp, but the tears didn’t fall as I whiled away the day in bed. The sun had begun to set when there was a quiet knock on my door before it opened. I sat up as Carl walked in, wearing pale blue scrubs.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, stopping a few feet from the bed.

Part of me wanted to lie, because I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to talk to Carl, if that was what he wanted to do. I didn’t. “Yeah, I’m feeling better.”

“Up for a little company?”

I nodded and then pushed myself up so I was leaning against the headboard. I brought my pillow with me, cradling it to my chest.

Carl sat on the edge of the bed, his upper body angled toward me. “It’s been a long week, huh?”

I nodded once more.

“And we’re only halfway there,” he mused, smiling slightly. He turned his head away and I noticed the gray around his temple was spreading, peppering the side. “You going to go to school tomorrow?”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “That’s the plan.”

“That’s good. With the holiday break coming up, you don’t want to get too behind,” he said, hooking his leg over the other. “I know you talked to Rosa Monday, and I would’ve talked to you earlier, but the hospital has been a little crazy. With the cold weather and improperly used kerosene heaters, I’ve had back-to-back surgeries.” He looked over at me and a moment passed. “But I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I need to apologize for what I said.”

That inherent need to tell him it was okay was hard to ignore, but I did it. I waited in silence.

“Rosa and I know you’re not Marquette. We didn’t adopt you to replace her,” he began. “The moment we decided to adopt you, you became our child, just as important as Marquette and every bit as amazing as she was.”

My chest tightened, so I held the pillow close.

“We’re your parents, and parents...they mess up. I know mine did. It’s inevitable, and I messed up on Sunday. I said something out of anger and frustration that I shouldn’t have said. And I’m sorry. I know it hurt your feelings and upset you, and I am truly sorry for that.”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded as I willed the pressure in my chest to go away. It seemed to expand instead. “I forgive you,” I said, and I did.

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled again as his gaze met mine. “Rosa told me what you told her about Rider, and I want to say that you’re right. I really wasn’t giving him a shot.”

Rider was the last thing I needed to talk about. “We don’t—”

“No. We do. Hear me out, okay?” The genuine request in his tone had me snapping my mouth shut. “I have been entirely too judgmental of Rider. I’ve let my own biases and experiences get in the way and that’s not right.”

I thought about what Rosa had said yesterday about Carl having his own story to tell.

“I had a brother,” he said, surprising me. “His name was Adrian. He was only two years older than me. The city wasn’t like it is today, but there were problems back then. The violence in these streets is nothing new and just like now, it has always touched too many lives. For some, more intimately than others.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “It wasn’t always guns. Sometimes they had knives and baseball bats, anything they could get their hands on, and sometimes it was just their hands. Anything, even fists, can be deadly weapons.”

Oh, man, I had a feeling where this story was heading and I felt sick.

“Adrian was always in trouble. He dropped out of school when I was a freshman. To be honest, I don’t even know what he was doing. We were opposites in a lot of ways, but he always seemed to have money and I knew enough to know it wasn’t coming from anywhere good. Back in the seventies, jobs were already beginning to dry up and there was little opportunity left behind,” he explained. “Either way, I remember Adrian being at home on a Wednesday. I remember my mother upset and crying. And I remember our father telling him to leave. Not sure what happened exactly and my parents never really talked about it. I think they blamed themselves. If they hadn’t asked him to leave, he’d still be alive kind of thing.”

Carl tipped his head back and sighed. “He was killed about a week later. Baseball bat to the head. It wasn’t a wrong place or wrong time. We don’t know what he was killed over. The police had suspected drugs, but they really hadn’t looked into his death too hard. Adrian was just another kid they were scraping off the streets.”

“That’s...that’s horrible.” Did they think that when they were called in for Jayden? I already knew the answer to that. I just didn’t want to think it, and that didn’t say very good things about me.

His dark eyes glinted. “Adrian made some bad choices. Just like I imagine this young friend of yours had. Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. And that doesn’t stop anyone from wondering about what could have been if a life hadn’t been wasted.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, staring at him. “I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t. It’s something I haven’t had a lot of reasons to talk about.” He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Or maybe I should’ve found some reasons.”

But there had been hints over the years, things he’d said that suddenly made sense. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, but thank you.” He reached over, patting my blanket-covered leg. “When Rider came along, I couldn’t help but think of Adrian. He reminded me of him—the carelessness in the way he approached life, as if he just didn’t give a damn.”

I lowered my gaze, hating the truth of those words. I wasn’t sure if Rider gave a damn about himself or not. I used to think he did.

“And with what happened to that young boy, it really hit home. I let my own experiences get in the way. I don’t know about Rider. Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am, and according to what Rosa told me, I probably am.”

My eyes met his, and I knew what he was saying, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him it didn’t matter anymore.

His gaze held mine. “I’m going to try. There are going to be times when it seems like I’m not, but I will be. I want you safe and I want you happy. You’re smart enough to make good choices. I forgot that.”

Oh, gosh. Oh, man. Tears stung the backs of my eyes.

“And there’s something else I wanted to tell you. I know I’ve been on you pretty hard about going to med school. I was wrong about that, too. Rosa said you really wanted to look into social work, and I should’ve listened when you first brought that up,” he said, and I let go of the pillow I was holding on to for dear life. “I think it’s an admirable path, and with that right there, you proved that you will make smart choices. I see that now.”

Several seconds passed where I was frozen and there was nothing but his words repeating over and over.

Then something cracked inside me, and it was a good shattering. I sprang forward and wrapped my arms around Carl’s shoulders, nearly knocking him off the bed.

He caught himself and me, and he hugged me back. For the first time in years, the knot in my throat didn’t get stuck. Emotion didn’t choke me. The tears didn’t fade away. They broke free.