My Heart for Yours (20 page)

“
And, can you give her this?” I handed Mrs. Gentry a small package. It was a book. A journal, actually. What next to no one, not even Mrs. Gentry, knew about Delia was that she loved poetry. She always had a book of poetry stashed in her purse. Eamon would tease her about it, call her pretentious. She didn’t mean to be. She said she just loved how simple words could be bent into something more, something beautiful. I asked her once why she didn’t write her own. She laughed as if I’d just said the most unreasonable thing in the world. She said she couldn’t. But I believed in her, and I knew that she could. I wanted her to
try
.

Mrs. Gentry glanced down at the wrapped book and sighed.

“
Yes, Tobin, I’ll give this to her. Now please, go on before he comes out and then we’ll
both
be in trouble.”

***

“
Tobin, about what I said at the funeral, I—”

“
It’s fine.”
I love you too
, is what I really want to say, but I can’t. “Really, no explanation necessary. I’m sure your dad will be pissed if he finds out you’re here talking to me anyway.”

“
Why do you always have to bring my dad into it?”

“
Your dad is in it, he always has been. Holding you back. Making your decisions for you. Making you his little puppet,” I say. The words should sting. I’m hoping. I want her to hurt. I shouldn’t be the only one.

She laughs. A livid, phony laugh. “You, Tobin, are just as guilty of holding back as I am.”

“
What the hell are you even talking about?” I demand. I gave her everything I had.

“
Eamon influenced you more than you thought. You knew how he felt about us—”

“
Don’t give me that crap. Eamon loved you. Don’t you dare think otherwise.” He did. He would’ve done anything for Delia, just like I would. She was family.

“
I know that. He loved
me
. Not
us
. He wanted you to want what he did. To be just like him. I know how torn you were all the time, Tobin.”

I slam the ice chest shut. She wants to have this out, let’s do it.

“
How can you stand here and act like there is nothing between us?” she asks.

“
There isn’t. Not to me at least. You left. You moved on. Pretty damn quickly, too.”

“
Are you kidding me? You weren’t there. I had to make the hardest decision of my life.
Alone
. Moving on quicker than you seems like a small crime in comparison.”

“
In comparison?” I spit. “Are we keeping score now, D? Really?”

“
You left me! You left me alone when I needed you the most!”

“
I left you? I fucking lived and breathed for you, Delia,” I say. She jerks back. Like the words bring her back to
us
. What we really were. Without all of this anger. It’s the truth. “But because I didn’t react the way that you wanted me to—”

“
Needed
you to. I
needed
you, Tobin,” she qualifies. Her voice is cracking. Just like that night.

***

“
Tobin, I really need to talk to you,” she said. Her voice was pleading, urgent.

“
I work until six,” I said. “I’ll come by and pick you up when I get off.”

“
Oh, okay. Just get here as soon as you can.” She was sniffling like she had been crying. Again. Shit. I was sure it was more drama over the move.

“
Baby, are you okay?” I asked.

Silence.

“
Do you need me to leave work early?” I really hoped she’d say no. It’s not like I wasn’t concerned about whatever was bothering her, but since we found out she was moving to D.C. next month, it seemed like everything was an emergency.

“
So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked later that night. She was sitting on the boat launch, her feet dangling just above the water. She hadn’t looked up since we got here, and she was really starting to scare me. I’d never seen her like this.

“
D?” I pressed.

“
I need to tell you, but I also don’t know how. I don’t know if I can. I don’t want you to leave,” she said. I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.

“
Delia, you know there is nothing you could say to get rid of me. Just tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. Is it about the move? I told you, we’ll make it work. You’re dad’s a prick, he won’t be in D.C. forever. They’ll vote him out soon enough.” I was trying to make a joke, but she wasn’t laughing. At all.

I moved closer to her and ran my finger up and down the length of her arm.

“
Just tell me, please. You’re really starting to freak me out,” I said.

She finally looked up. Her eyes were already brimming with tears that were begging to spill over.

“
Tobin, I’m pregnant,” she said.

I lost my vision for a minute. Everything went completely blank. My sight, my thoughts. Everything.

“
What? Are you sure?” We were always so careful. Always. I bet everyone says that when in this situation, but it’s the truth.

“
Of course I’m sure. I know how to count lines, Tobin. Two of them. Clear as day.”

I ran my hand along my jaw, struggling to find the right words. Something to comfort her. Something to comfort myself. But I never found them. So in the end, I just backed off altogether. Stopped talking because I knew that nothing that I said would make it right.

***

I didn’t know how to be what she needed from me then. I thought I was giving us both time to process it by avoiding her calls and giving her space. Or at least that’s what I told myself. But she was right. I couldn’t see what she needed from me through my own fear. My own selfishness. It sounds stupid, but as close as D and I were, I never thought about kids before then. I honestly didn’t know what I wanted. So in the end, I let her leave. I didn’t even try to stop her. Knowing I may never see her again, knowing what she was going to have to go through on her own when she got to D.C. I bailed.

“
I left you.”

There I said it.

And then, because I don’t know what else to do, and it’s all I’ve wanted to do since the second she got to town, I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, pull her in close, inhale that sweet jasmine oil smell, and kiss her. Her lips part with mine and she’s actually kissing me back. I press harder into her. The need for her overwhelming want.

Twenty
Delia

It used to be that there was no problem in the world that Tobin's kiss couldn't fix. My tears easily dried. The world quickly righted itself. But it feels so different now. So weighted. His lips so full of why's. How can I make him understand that things aren’t that simple anymore?

“
You can’t do that, Tobin,” I say, pulling away. “It’s not fair.”
Because I can’t think when we touch that way,
and his kiss should NOT make me feel weak in the knees.

“
Shit, Delia. I—”

“
Totally wimped out when you knew I was pregnant. I could feel it in your voice. In your body. In the way you were suddenly needed for double shifts.” We’re still close. Too close for me think straight.

“
But you—”

“
Tobin, it was the scariest thing I’d ever done. I hated the decision. I hated knowing that I’d never see that baby’s face. Never know what part of you and me would look like. But what was I supposed to do? Dad practically sent me away to have it done. It’s not like I had any kind of plan. Like I had someone to raise a baby with, or someone to help me pick out parents to raise it. You weren’t around! I laid in bed with cramps in a strange house for
days
second-guessing everything. You. Me. The baby. Everything. You should have been there.”

Tobin’s silent and staring. It’s too much. It’s
all
too much. The hurt still hovers between us, pushing and pulling on us like magnets.

“
If you’d been with me, Tobin, fighting with me...I don’t know.”

“
Did it ever occur to you that you should have stood up to him yourself? Make the people around you feel like they’re worth it! Worth something!”

“
Do you know how many times my dad was pissed at me over you? Have any idea how much pretending I’ve had to do to make up for it!”

“
And was it worth it?” he spits out.

I ignore him. Because I have no idea what anything’s worth any more.

“
As soon as I felt good enough to get up and move around, Dad kept me busy. He sort of saved me that way. And—” And I can’t believe I’m defending my father—especially to Tobin.

“
Set you up with the perfect boyfriend.”

“
It took me
months
before I even held his hand! You hugged me in the driveway on the morning I left, and all I could feel was the distance you were putting between us, and the hurt of this huge decision we were supposed to make
together
! When you called, I realized that if you hated me, it would seal it. Us being apart. I let it happen that way. Because I knew if I felt like I couldn’t have you, it might make it easier! But Weston and I weren’t together then, Tobin. Not even close.”

“
Did it make it easier? Letting me hate you?” Something flashes across his face that I don’t recognize. Remorse? Or maybe a new shade of anger.

“
No! Yes!” I yell, and then I can feel my anger breaking down into something I don’t want to feel at a bonfire with a group of friends. “I don’t know!” Tears are falling freely down my cheeks.

“
Delia.” His voice breaks.

I take a step back, needing distance. “Yes. You know what? Yes. It helped knowing or hoping that you were more mad than hurt until I got here.” And since then the anger’s been killing me. Feeling like Tobin and I aren’t over is killing me. Wanting to at least try again is killing me, and I didn’t even totally realize it until now when we’re standing here yelling at each other.

“
Now what?”

“
I don’t know.” I’m a mess. I need home, but not home. I don’t want to face, Dad, Weston, Tobin…

Tobin reaches for me again, and I want it. I want him to touch me. I want to find a way to be around him, but I’m also too hurt to try anything right now.