“Beck,” he says, his shoulders sloping hopelessly. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“But you meant it.”
You could hear a pin drop in my living room right now as Beau and I stare intently on one another. “I did,” he says finally.
I feel sick. “Please go.”
And worse than what he said is that… he actually goes. And I want him to after that.
But I really fucking don’t either.
When the door closes, I twist the lock, make it precisely three steps, turn the corner to the hallway, and collapse in a heap on the floor. I’m ten minutes into a good ugly cry when there’s a gentle knock at the door.
Mid-cry, I’d heard my phone vibrating on the counter, and I didn’t jump up to get it because I just knew it wasn’t him. Now with the knocking, I know it’s Goldie. After gathering myself off the floor, I let Goldie in, not even attempting to hide the fact that I’ve been sobbing.
“Holy shit,” she gasps quietly as she eases the door closed. “What happened? Are you okay? I mean, obviously you aren’t okay,okay,but like, are you okay?” She’s guiding me to the couch as she grips my arm like I’m an invalid on new meds. I feel that way.
I proceed to recount the fight to her, sparing no details. After I’m done, I add, “and the renovations at the studio are done. I was going to ask him to spend the night and then see if mom and dad could watch Jett in the morning. I was going to take him to the studio,” I sob, pressing my fingertips into my cheeks, still in shock at how quickly we veered off course.
Tonight was supposed to be our first sleepover… we’d labeled ourselves just an hour before. And now I’m crying to Goldie, the hem of my t-shirt an official Kleenex.
She runs a soothing hand down my thigh, nodding to my sobs. “I’m so sorry, Beck.” Her lips are turned downward to commiserate, but her eyes are slightly pinched, and there’s a vertical line between her brows telling me she’s not saying something.
“What?” I say, pinching my nostrils with my t-shirt-covered thumb and forefinger.
She chews the inside of her cheek, and the rollercoaster of the night has me snapping.
“What, Goldie? Jesus.”
“Why do you defend Dustin?” She lifts a hand, giving me the sign to stop. “Wait,” she says slowly. “Don’t get angry with me because I am always on your side.”
Her words throw water on the heat that had been bubbling up my throat initially. “Okay,” I agree.
“Dustin does not want to know his son. He paid you what he did in the settlement in part to keep you quiet but also… that’s his one and only contribution to his son, Beck. He signed his rights away, gave you that money; he’s been very clear.” She tucks her hair behind her ears, studying my eyes for an intense second, giving me a moment to digest I think. “I’m not saying it’s right because fuck Dustin in his stupid ass, that’s what.”
Her veins bulge for a second because talking about Dustin is her least favorite thing, next to having a male masseuse. She really hates that. “But I’m saying he’s said and done everything to make you understand that, and you just… can’t.”
“It’s not about me! Why is everyone acting like it’s because I’ve got this big hang up with Dustin? That I’m secretly hoping he’ll want me back?” I scream-whisper this because I don’t want a crying Jett on my plate right now, on top of everything else.
Goldie remains calm. “Inviting him to Jett’s first birthday,” she floats the words out slowly and carefully, knowing what they’ll do to me and not wanting the visceral reaction.
“I want Jett to know his father was there. It’s for Jett!” I hiss, tears still sliding down my cheeks with ease. “It’s for Jett,” I say again, hiccuping.
“I think you think that,” she says, still slow to speak. “But I think you can’t let go of the fact that your life is a lot different than you imagined.” She holds up her halting hand to me again, and this time, I really want to fucking slap it away.
But I pushed Beau away already. I don’t want to push away another person I care about.
Another person I love.
“And that’s okay. It takes time to mentally calibrate everything that’s happened.” She nods until I nod along with her. I adore her for possessing the ability to squash my anger. I don’t have the energy to stay so angry all the time. “But still wasting energy on Dustin when you have a man who… honestly probably is in love with you… I think you’re fucking up a little here, babe. I have to admit.”
I can’t believe it, but I nod because… Goldie’s right.
“I think you bit off Beau’s head tonight because you’re still not used to the fact that Dustin is a fucking piece of shit.”
“In the past year, there have still been a few moments that I forget. And for a split second, I think we’re still together.” I swallow hard. “ I promise you, Goldie, with every fucking piece of me, I don’t miss Dustin. I just… forget.”
She squeezes my knee. “You’ll forget you ever struggled with all of this if you stop pulling back from Beau.”