Say something.
“Oh, really? For what?”
“Mom, it’s Lucas,” she say to Tessa. “I’ll let her tell you.”
“Be safe. Is Tomas going? How long will you be gone?”
“It’s me.”
I lose all plans to be chill. “So, were you gonna fucking tell me?”
“Hey, Harper, I’ll be right back,” she says, and then I hear a door shut and her feet padding down the stairs then another door shut. “Lucas—”
“Tessa, what the hell?”
“I don’t think you should call me anymore.”
“Stop me.” I can’t shut my damn mouth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she whispers.
“If I don’t see you before you go, I swear to God—”
“What do you swear, Lucas?”
“Make it happen. Logan is gone for four more hours. If you’re blowing me off, have the common courtesy of doing it to my face.” Then I hang up because, if I say any more, I am going to push her away even further.
I grab a bottle of scotch out of the cupboard and pour it over some ice. I drink it down and take pleasure in the burn. Fifteen minutes later, I pour another and do the same.And then another.
An hour later, I know I’ve fucked this up.
I walk out to the back patio and sit looking at the fucking lilac tree that I planted ten years ago. Lilacs were Tessa’s favorite, and I planted a damn tree. I didn’t think about it then, but the realization that I never let go slaps me square in the jaw, and then I get that dull pain in my chest. It fucking hurts.
I pull the bottle, because why bother with a fucking glass, up to my lips and take another drink, hoping to ease the pain in my chest, or maybe pass out. Neither happens.
I sit back and look up at the sun that is starting its descent, and that is of no comfort either. I can’t numb this pain. Hell, sleeping is no longer a luxury since she’s in my dreams now, too. I know I know better.
Stupid fuck,my one-winged, foul-mouthed angel taunts me.
For a moment, I consider this is what happens as we age … not the Tessa thing, but the one-eighty in the way my once patient angel used to appear.
Then my phone rings, and it’s not her. Not at all disappointed because it’s Ava calling to check on me. I assure her I’m great, tell her it’s like a weight has been lifted off my chest, and redirect to her schooling. This makes the night better … for about thirty-seven minutes.
Logan texts that he’s going to be a little late. They were late for the first movie, so they’re going to catch the next. He even took a picture to prove he was there. I did some shit in a movie theatre before. It really was no comfort, but the fact that he’s at least trying to appease me is cool.
“Lucas.”
I jump when I hear her voice behind me. Then I stand and turn.
“I don’t appreciate being bullied into coming here.”
“It worked.” I reach down, grab the bottle, and take another drink.
“Are you drunk?”
I look at her lips. Those lips are damn beautiful.
“Are you?” she asks again.