“You put your mother first. Like you always did. And that fucked you up on more than one occasion. I remember how she would choose him over you. Over and over, she put you in impossible situations.”
“I know she did. That’s why I spent so many nights hiding in your bed.”
“So maybe this one time—you put yourself first.”
I clench my jaw.
“Maybe that’s why you feel so guilty. Because you actually chose yourself when you persuaded her to leave with you. She had never left him before. Not one time. Not even for dinner.”
I swallow hard. “You make a lot of sense.”
He runs his hand through his hair, his mouth pursed in concentration.
I know that look. That’s Jared’s expression when he’s thinking over something. Something most of us don’t think of. He can go deep on a topic and come up with things I could never think of.
“What?” I ask him suspiciously.
He blinks once, and the deep-in-thought look on his face disappears. “Nothing.”
I consider asking him to elaborate beyond “nothing” but I’m not sure I want to know what he’s thinking. Confessing my role in my stepfather’s death was enough for today.
He pulls me into his chest and holds me close. “Don’t keep something this big from me again. Not when it’s eating you up inside. I’m always on your side, Ashley. I’m not your mother.”
“No. You’re undefinable.”
“Is that a good thing?”
I grip the arm of his flannel. “I’m not sure. You and me…we’ve always been weird.”
“Why are we weird?”
“You tell me.” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, and I truly can’t believe I’m broaching it sober, but out here in the middle of nowhere, I feel okay to be vulnerable. And open.
“Tell you what?”
“Oh, come on, J.” I sit up straight and narrow my eyes at him. “We would be there for each other in the absolute shittiest of moments, right? Then, we’d go weeks, months sometimes, barely staying in contact.”
“You’ve always been my best friend, Ash.” His voice is raw. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”
“You did!” I hate that I sound so emotional, but after baring my soul to him about my darkest secret, I’m like an open wound. I work to restrain myself. “I don’t mind the way we were. The way we are. I love it, actually.” I nearly keep talking, but then I stop.
Jared doesn’t take his eyes off of mine.
“Why does that feel like anI love it, butkind of thing?”
I guess it does. I guess when I’m truly honest with myself, I feel…
“Spit it out, Hill.” Jared’s tone is teasing, but I can hear the weight behind his words. He’s on edge.
“I feel sad, J. I feel like you and I…we both always had so much shit weighing us down from our families that we never had any space to sit with our actual feelings.”
His cheeks flush pink. “And what are your actual feelings? Will you tell me now?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t worked them out. That’s my point. I never thought I deserved to take care of myself and own how I feel. About much of anything. My past still comes to me in my dreams and bites me in the ass. Hell, I had to move across the country to be able to tell you the truth about the night my stepfather was murdered.” I look straight at him. “What about you? Have you healed from your past?”
His dark eyes turn nearly black, and I can read him perfectly.
“You want to run like hell right now,” I say to him. “I do too. But I’m asking you not to.”
