“I didn’t know what was happening,” Reese said. “I was scared.”
“I went out to my truck. Sat there for I don’t know how long, crying. Finally, Jason came out and found me. Drove us to Aunt Grace’s house. But I had to go back to school the next day. Whether it was true or not, I felt like everyone was looking at me. Talking about me. Which, as you may remember, for a teenager, is excruciating.”
Reese remembered the aftermath. The whispers in the hallway. The way people looked at Roan with pity when he came back to school. He’d finished his other finals but had been quiet, withdrawn. She’d tried to talk to him but he’d brushed her off, saying he was fine.
“Thinking about taking the prettiest girl to prom after I made such a spectacle felt impossible. As much as I loved you, I couldn’t put on a tux and pretend to be normal. Not even for you. Plus, the demons were hard at work, telling me over and over how unworthy I was of you. How I ruined everything.”
“If you’d just talked to me,” Reese said. “Maybe I could’ve helped.”
“I wanted to. But the morning of prom, your father showed up at my house.” Roan picked up the dinner knife the server had dropped off, running it along the palm of his hand. “He told me not to show up. He said it was the one thing I could do that would prove to you once and for all I was trouble. The kind of guy who doesn’t show up when he’s needed.”
Reese’s breath caught. “He came to your house? That morning? That’s when he warned you off?”
“Yeah. I was already a mess, already doubting everything. And then he showed up, saying all the things I was already thinking.” Roan rubbed his face. “At eighteen, fresh off a publicbreakdown, with your father standing in my living room telling me I’d ruin your life? I convinced myself he was right. That leaving was the kindest thing I could do. Plus, as I’ve already said—and regret telling you—he threatened to call in Uncle Walter’s bank loan. That was the final straw.”
“You could have told me anything,” Reese said, her voice breaking. “I would have understood. Or tried to anyway. We’d been so close.”
“I know that now,” Roan said.
Reese took a sip of her wine, remembering the night of prom. “I waited for three hours. In my fancy dress. Sure you would come. I refused to give up, defending you, making excuses, but finally I had to accept it. You weren’t coming.”
“I’m so sorry,” Roan said, voice catching.
“My dad said he’d always known you’d let me down.” She met his eyes. “He didn’t seem surprised at all. It all makes sense now.”
“Because he’d made sure I wouldn’t show up.” Roan bit out the words as if they tasted bad in his mouth.
“I had no idea that he threatened your family,” Reese said. “I can’t get my head around it. Part of me wants to believe you’re mistaken, that he didn’t mean it that way. But I also know how he was.”
“Always lecturing you about discipline,” Roan said. “I remember you crying a few times about how much pressure you felt.”
She looked down at her wine glass. “The worst part is thinking about how cruel it was to do that to a boy who had just lost his mother.” She paused. “I don’t know if I can forgive him for that.”
“It was fifteen years ago. Maybe just forget I ever told you,” Roan said. “He’s gone now. There’s nothing either of us can do about any of it.”
“But youdidtell me. Which means I can’t forget. For years after, he let me think you just didn’t care. That you were irresponsible and flaky and couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Her voice hardened. “He manipulated a kid into thinking you were worthless. The boy I loved with all my heart, by the way. For years, I thought something was wrong with me. That I’d done something to make you leave. And he let me believe that.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You were perfect. That was part of the problem—you had this whole brilliant future ahead of you, and I was just …” He gestured vaguely. “A mess. Your dad saw that. Maybe he was wrong to threaten me, but he wasn’t wrong that I didn’t have my life together.”
“You’d just lost your mother.”
“I know. But grief doesn’t excuse everything. I still made choices. I still hurt you.” He met her eyes. “I’m not trying to absolve myself. I’m just trying to explain.”
The bar felt too warm suddenly. Reese realized her scarf was still around her neck. She loosened it, gulping in a deep breath. “It’s all right now. We’re all grown up. And it gives us insight that can help the kids.”
“I spent fifteen years running from it, using work to avoid dealing with anything real.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope we can help them choose a different path.”
“I threw myself into ballet the same way you threw yourself into stunts. Worked until my body broke down, rather than dealing with the hurt.”
He looked at her, his expression shifting from pain to curiosity. “Yeah. I guess we both did that. Maybe we’re more alike than I ever thought we were.” The server came by to check on them. They both shook their heads, declining another round.
When she left, Reese said, “Those kids tonight reminded me how young we were. They’re babies.”
“We were babies.”
“Yeah.” She finished her wine. “Babies who deserve forgiveness. Maybe it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”
“It would feel good. Not to wake up feeling ashamed.”
