Page 51 of The Darkest Parts of Me

Renn’s eyes stay on me as I say this, his face calm.

“My dad and I went into town that night—just the two of us—to get a treat after dinner. But what I didn’t know was that my dad wanted to use this particular trip to talk to me about Jamie.” Renn crosses his arms at the mention of Jamie’s name. “He told me that I could do better, and he was worried about what could happen if I wasn’t careful. I had just started my career, and things were going well, but I guess he was worried about Jamie messing it all up for me. I was young and stupid. I thought what Jamie and I had was a good thing.”

I lick my lips. “Instead of hearing him out, I just became angry. I didn’t want him to tell me what he thought was best for me. We got into a big argument, and I eventually stomped out of the restaurant to the car. As we were driving home, a bad storm came out of nowhere. My dad told me to pull over so he could drive, but I told him no.” I take in a shaky breath. “And that was the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital three weeks later.” Renn deeply inhales at the words but remains silent. “I had driven off the road and crashed into a tree. My dad had been killed on impact.” I need to get through the whole thing. If I lose it now, I won’t ever be able to get it out. “I broke both my legs and fractured my back. I was put into a medically induced coma because of my head injuries.” As I say this, it doesn’t go unnoticed that Renn’s fingers flex slightly as they rest on his forearms. “When I woke up, I couldn’t talk or move, but I could see and hear, and when I opened my eyes, my mom took my hand, and I knew from the look on her face that he was gone.

I choke on the words for a moment—the memory is so clear in my mind.

“The doctors told us that it would be a long and difficult road of recovery, and there was a chance I’d never walk again. Miraculously, my brain remained unharmed, but I wasn’t able to stand on my own until a year later and couldn’t walk without support for several months. It took countless hours of therapy and a handful of surgeries to get me where I am today. I pushed myself to my limits to heal. I threw everything I had into beating the odds. People tell me, ‘You’re amazing, Maven. You should be proud of yourself.’ But I’m not proud, not even a little bit. The truth is, I did it because it was a distraction from facing what I had done. From the fact that my dad was dead because of me and everyone knew it, but they never said it, at least not to my face.” I exhale and catch my breath. “My mom. I don’t know how she can even look at me. I . . . I killed her husband.”

Renn stands abruptly and walks over to my side of the table, pulling his chair with him so he can sit next to me, facing me. He subconsciously pulls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, and a flutter in my stomach goes wild as he rests them on his knees, leaning forward a little.

“It was an accident. Your mom knows that. Everyone knows that.” I shrug in response. “You can’t see it as all or nothing. No one knows what could have happened if things were different that night.”

I take in his words for a beat or two.

“But it happened. I lived. He’s gone. And now because of what I did . . . it’s left a darkness in me that I don’t think will ever heal. I can’t fix it like my broken bones. It’s like an open wound on my heart—this dark mark that is part of me forever.”

Renn ponders this, and his face holds a saddened expression for a moment. “Maven.” My name on his lips. “Everyone has some version of darkness in them. Some more, some less. It’s not about removing the darkness, but how we learn to live with it. How to accept it as a part of us, and what you do next.”

I like the idea, especially since it comes from Renn, but that can’t be true for everyone. Right?

“How can you be so sure?” I ask.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but then he reaches under his shirt collar to grab the necklace he always wears, pulling it out so I can see it fully. On the end of the chain, there’s a thin, metal rectangle with something engraved on it. I lean forward to look at it a bit closer.

He lays it flat against his palm so I can observe the fine-lined imprints of a small sun, moon, and a star.

“My father was gone a lot for his job before I was born, so he gave this to my mom.”

I’m surprised he’s speaking of his parents, because I know he never has with anyone.

He continues, “My dad kept this when my mom passed, then he gave it to me when I was older. He told me that he loved my mother as gentle as the moonlight but as fierce as the sun and endless like the stars.” I can’t help but grin wide at the sentiment. Renn chuckles softly. “I know, it’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. It’s lovely.” He smiles warmly at me, but his face becomes serious again as he looks back down at the necklace.

“My mother died when I was born. She had a rare blood disorder that made her pregnancy with me dangerous, and it was even more so when in labor.” I watch as he rubs the indents with his thumb. It looks so delicate in his slender fingers and strong hand, and for a moment, he seems lost in a daydream. I try to picture Renn as a young boy and wonder if he looks more like his father or mother. “My dad was never around growing up. I was raised mostly by my grandparents—my mother’s parents. They tried their best to cover the fact that it was difficult for my dad to be around me because I was alive and my mother was not.” This saddens me to my core, and my heart breaks for him. “But I only lived with them for a short time before I went to a—” He stops, like he doesn’t know the word to say, but then says. “A boarding school when I was fourteen.”

So young. And to have grown up without a mother . . . then his father abandoning him. I think back to what Renn said that day on the sidewalk, that our parents would do anything to shield us from those difficult parts of life. I see that realization on his face, like he remembers the moment too. In this case, it was his grandparents.

“Renn, I don’t think that’s true. I’m sure he loves you.”

“Maybe he did, but it doesn’t matter now.” He smiles sadly. Did.

“He died two years after I’d left for school. He had a dangerous job, so to speak.”

I don’t realize I am crying until I feel a couple of tears slide down my cheek.

He clears his throat, and I can see the emotion thrumming in him. “After some time, I realized that it wasn’t about me. I think he loved my mother so much that, maybe with her gone, he simply had no love left to give.”

I continue to let the tears fall, one by one, and I can’t seem to stop them. My heart aches for him. I wonder what his parents would say if they saw the strong, wonderful man he has become. He lost both of them, tragically. And he said I’m strong?

The fact that he is the man he is—kind, gentle, smart—even after all he’s been through, his own strength is far beyond what he thinks he sees in me.

“Are you grandparents still alive?”

He shakes his head. “They lived long, happy lives, but they have passed on.” I dab at my eyes lightly, and Renn licks his bottom lip before he speaks again. “I’ve been through some dark times. There have been times in my life when those dark places were almost unbearable. Hopelessness was all there was, and it felt like there was no way out besides not being alive anymore to feel it.”

He closes his eyes, his breathing changing, and then all at once, the realization hits me hard in the chest—the deeper reason he came here, and why he refused to leave.

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