“Yeah.”
“I thought you’d be more thrilled.”
“I am.”
“You could show a little bit more excitement.” He chuckles.
“I’m sorry. The coach was a drill sergeant at practice today, so I’m a bit tired.”
“I have just the thing to cheer you up.” He pulls a black box from his pocket.
The box contains a rectangular locket with our first initials inscribed on it.
“Open it.”
Inside is a picture of us, smiling at the camera. We’re so fucking happy. I can’t stave off my tears.
“Babe, don’t cry.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
I’m such a piece of shit, and what really makes me the scum of the earth is that if I had the power to undo it all, I wouldn’t. I can’t imagine not being with Art, not helping him. His demons would still be beating at him day and night if I hadn’t pushed him the way I did. I led him out of a dark place. He still hasn’t fully healed, and probably never will, but he’s made a lot of progress.
“I love you so much, Cin. I want to make you happy.”
More tears pour from my eyes at his proclamation. I’ve fallen into a routine, fucking both boys regularly, sometimes in the same night. I’ve dug myself in a hole, and as the days pass, the hole gets deeper and deeper. Soon, I won’t be able to climb out. Each morning I tell myself this is the day I’ll put my foot down with Art and tell Trevor everything, but I chicken out every single time. I don’t want to hurt either of them. We’ll be nursing our wounds for a long time after the storm clears.
Instead of going inside when Trevor takes me home, I get in my car and drive to Lilah’s house. I’m not ready to go home yet. Anyway, a talk between us is long overdue. Thomas answers the door.
“Hi, Cin, how are you?”
“I’m good. How’s the local Dr. Doolittle?”
“Super.” He chuckles. “Lilah’s in her bedroom.”
“Thanks.”
I don’t bother knocking on her bedroom door. If she knows it’s me, she’ll probably lock it.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lilah looks up from polishing her toenails.
“We need to talk.” I close the door.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
I kick off my shoes then sit cross-legged on her bed. “I have plenty to say to you.”
“Save it.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You knew it would hurt me before you did it.”
“I know, and it’s killing me,” I cry.
“Then why aren’t you dead yet?”
