Yeah. Maybe. “What the hell do you think is stopping him? What’s he so afraid of?”
“Well ... imagine he tells her after all these years that he’s sorry. And she won’t hear it. What do you thinkhethinks will happen? They just go back to the way they were? Or do you think his heart breaks all over again?”
I swallow. Trying to imagine that scenario: decades of life with Sierra as my neighbor, just out of my reach. Finally, pushing aside all the years of calcified resentment and guilt and fear to apologize, only to be rejected.
“Maybe he’s right to stay silent.”
Layne makes a disgruntled noise. “If that’s what you think ...shit, brother.” He puts a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. “All I’m gonna say is if you wanna sit there looking like a sad sack of shit, regretting that you let Sierra go, and not do anything about it ... you are more like Grandpa than I ever took you for.”
It’s not a compliment in this context, at all, I know.
“Do I look that bad?” I say dryly.
“Bro.” He levels me with a look. “Get a mirror.” Then he goes to stick his head out the back door and shouts, “Breakfast!”
While I sit there, trying to look normal.
Distractedly, I sip my coffee, rub Scar on the head when he nudges against my leg. Watch my niece and my grandpa and my brother gather around the table, Kaylie chirping on about something. Layne scooping eggs and bacon onto plates. Pouring apple juice, bumping into each other, looking for the butter.
Suddenly, I see my life fast-forwarding in this place.
It’s not hard to do.
I can see myself at my dad’s age, when he died ... only I don’t have a loving wife and children.
I can see myself at my grandpa’s age, as a widower ... only I never had a wife at all.
Because that’s the way I’m headed right now, isn’t it?
I used to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault. That I tried.
Jenn leftmeat the altar. Her choice.
I was ready and willing to be a husband, start a family. I wanted a family of my own, more than anything.
Maybe I still do.
But maybe after she left me like that, I got angry.
I got angry ... because I was fucking scared.
And after my parents died ... maybe I convinced myself that it’s just not safe to love. Because people leave you, and that’s beyond your control.
And if I keep believing that ... maybe I will end up alone. Wishing things had been different, regretting things I never said.
Risks I never took.
Just like Tommy and June.
Maybe all it would take to turn things around would be to tell Sierra how I feel. To tell her I’m sorry if I hurt her.
To take a risk, because she’s worth it.
But maybe I’m already too late.
Maybe I’ve already lost her.
Hurt her too badly by hitting her right where she’s wounded, letting her believe that she was never what I wanted most.
