He shakes his head, frowning. “She looks like Haley.”
“She looks like you,” I say. “Spitting image.”
Julian doesn’t say anything else, so I let us sit in silence for a bit. Then he nods and crosses his arms over his chest. His girlfriend passed away three years ago after childbirth, and hedoesn’t talk about it—their relationship was messy and complicated. He uses his gym and spending time with his daughter as his therapy. They are still better habits than my old ones though, so it isn’t my place to tell him if it’s right or wrong.
“Whatever,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I have a ring upstairs if you wanna give it a go one day. Whenever these idiots get their shit together.”
“Shut up, man,” Rowan calls out. “You’re both athletic.”
“We played on the same soccer team,” Nico says, and Luca, who is a firefighter, snickers.
“And obviously, I did not stick with it.”
The rest of us chuckle and get on to finish our workout. Julian joins for a couple sets, staying mostly silent as he usually does. The rest of the guys chatter away but as the workout comes to an end, I realize that I have nowhere to go after this. I have to shower here before I go because I haven’t been let into Lana’s house.
It’s a punishment I deserve, I know. I packed and left.Disappeared.I pretty much asked for this treatment the moment I crossed state lines.
The workout is over too quickly, and I’ve been here for two hours. In the locker room, the guys, all but Julian, grab their bags to go, but I stay back. I sit on the bench and weigh my options.
I could shower and go around town just to sweat under the summer sun. Or I could stay here and work myself dry.
I was lonely for so many years.
I was walking around dead inside and looked for ways that would make me feel alive.
And right now, in this town, where she isn’t particularly excited to see me, I feel that all over again.
I stuff my bag back into the locker and head upstairs toJulian’s ring. I grab a pair of punching gloves and claim a bag for myself.
Punch after punch after punch.
I see glimpses of my fathers face in my mind. All the times he’d punched me and kicked me and slapped me. All the times he’d called me a worthless piece of shit. A disappointment. The time he told me my mother should have aborted me when she had the chance.
Then I think about the things I’ve done. The ways I’ve hurt Lana and hurt myself.
I hated that I still loved her while I was making a mess of things—I did not deserve to keep loving her. I hated that I couldn’t get her out of mind or stop seeing her face and hearing her voice. I hated that I couldn’t just cut that piece of my brain out because maybe… I don’t know, maybe it would have made it easier.
I hated that they made me leave her.
I think about that instead. The way my mother treated Lana. The way she treated me and acted like I owed her my life. The way my mother turned a blind eye to my father’s violence. Cowards. Both of them.
A drop of sweat rests on my lashes now, weighing down my eye, and that’s when I relent. I stop my abuse on the punching bag, panting and soaked.
“Who hurt you?”
I turn and find Julian against the railing at the stairs with his arms crossed. “How much time do you have?”
Julian laughs, but it’s sad. He was my best friend before I disappeared, and I wasn’t here for him when Grace was born or when he lost Haley. “I thought rehab fixed that.”
I chuckle and sit on a bench, stripping off the gloves.They’re mine now at this point with how much sweat is inside of them. “I thought therapy fixed you.”
He rolls his eyes and joins me. “Touché.”
I exhale heavily, leaning forward with my forearms on my knees and still catching my breath. Sweat is dripping from my hair and the ache in my muscles still isn’t enough.
But I get serious for a moment and ask, “You good, Julian?”
He doesn’t speak.
