I stood there staring at Alex, and I remember it being the first time that I felt like he loved me.
I swallowed uneasily. "I'm not making you go through…. It's nothing, just forget—"
"It is not nothing," he said a bit loudly. "You are not nothing. You…deserve so much out of life. You deserve to live. She deserved to live, Nicole. Do you understand that? She left behind a child and her whole life because she did what you're doing. She threw everything away for him, and now you're doing it! Do you understand that your mother is rolling over in her grave right now? She left you those journals for a reason, didn't she? What the hell is wrong with you people?" he asked, making a gesture in frustration. "There is no man on this planet worth that, Nicole. Don't you understand? They are—we are all pieces of shit," he amended. "Even if we love you, we will still hurt you. But you know what we won't do? Die for you. Jamie drove herself into Mike's wife, and you know what? He got his freedom; they just died. He's the only person who got anything out of it. He went from being a loser who couldn't pay his trailer payment because he was buying too much weed, to a widower with a brand new house, brand new car—don't think it took him long to find a brand new girlfriend, either, because it didn't. She bought his freedom with her soul. She died for him, and do you think he gives a shit? He may keep that fucking book she gave him somewhere, I don't even know, maybe not. He probably sold it in a garage sale or something, because the symbolism of Jamie giving Wuthering Heights to Mike would be completely lost on his dumb ass. I would bet my life that he still has never read that book."
Frowning, I realized, "I didn't tell you that."
"What?" he said, forgetting his rant long enough to give me a confused frown right back.
"The book…that I found in his bookshelf…I didn't tell you about that," I said, my first thought being that I did write it in my journal, but Alex wasn't the kind of parent to go rummaging through my things.
There was a little glimmer in his eyes, and he smiled without joy. "He did keep it then? I wondered."
"How did you…?"
"How do you think I knew, Nicole?" he asked, shaking his head.
"She told you?" I asked, not quite believing it.
"Of course she told me," he said. "She told me everything."
With this new piece of information, I felt that everything I had always known about my mother's relationship with Alex was somehow uprooted, and I felt so confused that I had to sit down. "But…"
But in her journals, my mother never seemed at all fond of Alex. She complained about him more than anything. Why would she confide in him?
When I looked up at Alex, he was gazing at me appraisingly. "You still don't get it," he finally decided.
No, I didn't.
Honestly, at that point, I didn't feel like I was "getting" anything.
I didn't get why my boyfriend had lied to me. I didn't get why Kayla had been at his house in the first place. I didn't get why I hadn't just said something to him about it and avoided all the needless drama I was going through. I definitely didn't get Alex, I realized for the first time.
I felt completely confused about everything, and I didn't even know why.
"It just…didn't seem like you guys had that kind of relationship," I said carefully, not wanting to offend him.
An ironic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said with a trace of mocking, "You know what they say, Nikki; don't judge a book by its cover."
I was intrigued, there was no denying that, but I also sensed that I wasn't ready to deal with whatever Alex was trying to teach me. I wanted to know what he knew, whatever that might be, but something told me I wasn't ready for it just then.
Or maybe it really was just foolish denial.
All I knew was that it felt urgent to go to Derek and get our situation straightened out.
"I have to get out of here," I said quietly. "I need some air."
Alex nodded, his shoulders seeming to slump a little, and I tried to avoid looking at him before disappearing down the hallway to my room to find my purse and keys. But just before I slipped outside, shutting the door behind me, I thought I caught a glimpse of Alex at the refrigerator grabbing a bottle of beer.
When I showed up on Derek's doorstep unannounced, he looked a little confused to see me.
"Nikki?" he said, frowning slightly. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to talk to you," I said uncertainly.
"Come on inside," he said, stepping back so I could walk in. "Is something wrong?"
"You tell me," I said with forced lightness, a shadow of a half-smile on my face.