Page 11 of The One I Left Behind

“Just tell me,” he says, leaving his pizza untouched on his plate.

“It’s nothing big. Start eating.”

Clayton leans back in his seat and stares at me. “What? Are we moving?”

I hate that he overheard my conversation a month ago with a company in Lincoln that was interested in me if I passed the bar this summer. “No… I mean, not at this moment.”

He purposely looks away. I know his stance on moving, but he’s only a freshman, and he’ll make friends wherever we go. But I’m not going to get into that conversation again.

“Come on, Mom, I hate it when you’re so serious and wanna have a talk. I don’t have a girlfriend. I know you and Drew think I like Kait, but I don’t.”

I sip my water, buying myself some time. “It’s about Ben Noughton.”

His shoulders stiffen and his back straightens like a dog’s response to a possible intruder. “What about him?”

My head tilts. “I know you know.”

“It’s kind of hard not to. I mean, you’ve lived in Willowbrook your entire life, so I’m not sure why you thought I never would.”

I had hoped for more time, but he has a point. I waited too long. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Do you know what it was like when I saw that picture? We toured the high school at the end of the year, and there was a picture of you and him next to his letterman jacket and pictures of him in his uniform.”

This is my Clayton. He may have waited for me to bring up the topic, but he’s not going to hold back from telling me everything he’s feeling now that it’s out in the open.

“I should’ve mentioned it earlier.”

“You let me wear his jersey and walk around town telling people how I wanted to be him one day.” He takes a big bite of his pizza since he’s a stress eater, just like me. With a mouth full of food, he says, “How embarrassing. I was idolizing my mom’s ex and didn’t even know it.”

“It’s not embarrassing. You were a kid, and everyone in this town thinks highly of Ben.”

“Still, Mom…” I give him my “mom” look so he’ll stop talking with his mouth full, and he swallows. “It felt like everyone knew and I didn’t. I was a joke. People probably laughed behind my back.”

I lean back in my chair. “That’s not true, Clay. During football season, you can’t go a block without hearing someone say something about Ben. You were taught to love him.”

There was a time I selfishly wished that Ben wouldn’t have made it so big. That he wouldn’t have been so famous. Not because I didn’t want him to succeed or because I wanted him to have to come back to Willowbrook, but because it would’ve made my life easier. I would’ve left town myself after everything went down, but who would’ve watched after Koa and Briar?

“Now my friends keep telling me the stories their parents are telling them.” He finishes his piece of pizza and guzzles down some pop. “Mom…”

He fiddles with his other slice of pizza. He’s definitely contemplating his next question, and my heart rate picks up because if it is what I think it is, that means he’s heard the rumors. The untruthful ones.

He lifts his head and sets his gaze on me. “Is he my dad?”

Clayton has asked about his dad a lot, and I’ve always said he was long gone when I found out I was pregnant. That I tried to reach him and never heard back.

“No. He’s not.”

“Holden Epstein said his dad told him he was.” He picks up his pizza and eats.

“I would’ve told you if he was. Plus, Ben would’ve taken responsibility.” That, I know, is true. I get the gossip, though. I’ve never been forthcoming about who Clay’s father is, just that it isn’t Ben.

“So, then why try to keep it a secret from me that you two dated?”

“I guess you’re old enough now to understand.” I take a moment to collect my thoughts. “I was embarrassed after it didn’t work out with Ben. We were the ‘it’ couple people thought would make it. Everyone assumed we’d get married and have ten kids, myself included. Within weeks of him leaving for Clemson, I felt the strain between us. He was on to bigger and better things, and I wasn’t. I was here, helping to raise Uncle Koa and Aunt Briar while Grandpa worked. We ended up fighting on our phone calls more than talking, and eventually we had no choice but to admit to ourselves that it wasn’t going to work. I was devastated.”

“And then you slept with whoever my father is?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I debate for a second whether I should tell him more, but he’s almost fifteen. I think he can handle it. “I was at a bar outside of town one night, and a guy gave me a lot of attention. We commiserated together about being the ones left behind. Him for reasons different than mine, but we understood what the other was feeling. He left the next day.”

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