“Yep.”
“Oh. Well that’s wonderful news.” His eyes shine. “I’m real happy for you.”
He looks like he might be on the verge of tears, and he turns his head toward the window. What’s he thinking? Are his regrets weighing on him? Does he wish things were different?
We chat for longer. I offer to go get him food, and he declines. Before we leave, Blaine shakes Dad’s hand, and it looks like Dad might cry again.
Blaine and I are quiet in the elevator. We have some distance to go to get to the parking garage, crossing a pedway and taking an elevator to get to our vehicles.
“You want a push?” I start to move behind him.
He drops his hands. “Yeah, actually. That would be great.”
“Are you okay?” I touch his shoulder as we go.
“I want to hate him,” he says. He turns to look at me. “Do you really think he’s changed?”
“I think he’s trying now,” I say. “He knows he wasn’t around enough for us.”
“I’m not ready to forgive him,” Blaine says, his voice tight. “But maybe I can see him now and then, too.”
“Whatever you want to do is okay, Blaine. For me, I’ve been okay with small doses. But you aren’t obligated to make nice with someone who hurt you.”
We’re walking through the pedway now. The windows reveal the busy streets below. Lexington is the other big city in Kentucky, located in between Louisville, where I live now, and my hometown. Rolling hills stretch out in the distance. Dusk isfalling now, and the bridge we’re on looks out over some twinkling lights. A car honks.
“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” Blaine says quietly. “I just worry about someone hurting you again.” He looks down at his lap as we reach an elevator. “Are you still talking to Grant?”
My breath hitches. I’m shocked at the pain the slices through me. “I broke things off with him,” I say.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I mean, yeah.” My voice breaks.
He eyes me again. “Wait. Are you okay? Did you have something serious with him or something?”
I shrug. “It can’t work out long term.”
“Why the hell not?”
I almost trip over my own feet. What is he talking about? He acted like he would never get over it if I got together with Grant. Now he’s behaving as though he’s upset about it being over.
“Uh, need I remind you of why you yelled at me? You said you wouldn’t have anything to do with him if I brought him around.” I position him next to his vehicle in the parking garage.
He props his forearm against his car. “I was wrong to say that. Gloria clued me in, but I would have come to that conclusion myself.” He swallows. “If you like him, then I trust your judgment.”
He opens his door so he can transfer into the car.
“Well, this is a one-eighty,” I say. A cold wind whips through the garage and I shiver. “But you weren’t the only reason I can’t stay with him.”
My heart fractures even more. I tug on the ends of my sweatshirt just to have something to do with my hands.
Blaine grips my arm. “I’m serious,” he says. “I’ll support you.”
My mouth stretches into a smile despite the ache in my chest. “Thanks, Blaine.”
This conversation is happening too late, though, and I’ve already made my decision. It still feels like the right one even though it hurts like a first heartbreak. And maybe it is, honestly. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this raw before, not even when a college boyfriend I really liked told me he couldn’t be “too tied down.” I’d been disappointed then. What I am now is utterly devastated.
I have to believe time will help. It’s been the cure for everything else.
