Ty: It makes you uncomfortable?
Indie: It scares me because what if I fall and then you don’t catch me?
Ty: What if we fall for each other and we enjoy the rest of our lives together?
Indie: Have I ever told you about my biological parents?
Ty: No.
Indie: It’s pretty simple really. Dad died and Mom couldn’t live without him. She was twenty-five weeks pregnant when she killed herself. I almost died too.
Ty: I’m sorry.
Indie: My biggest fear is love—romantic love. One of the things I’ve been discovering about the Frederick incident is that after he left, I was afraid that I would do what my mother did to herself. Obviously, I have PTSD because he raped me but add to that what happened with my bio-parents and . . . I’m pretty fucked up.
Ty: I’m sorry to hear about your parents, but you can’t stop living or wanting to have someone to share your life with.
Indie: You scare me too.
Ty: What can I do so you can trust me? I would never hurt you.
Indie: Yeah, but what if I lose you and I lose myself after that?
Ty: You can’t live in fear.
Indie: You keep saying that.
Ty: I do because I know what it’s like to be anxious about the future due to your childhood experiences. Mom and I lived in poverty. The only food we got was when she had someone to support her. We didn’t have a house, only a car. Sometimes we would stay in shitty hotels, or with whoever she was fucking. There was the occasional shelter during the winter. I got to eat because of the school programs, but it wasn’t enough. Once Anastasia came into the picture, I did a few things I’m not proud of to ensure she had baby food. Since I left for college I’ve lived with the fear that I could end up in that same place. That no matter how much money I make, one day everything I’ve worked for will disappear and I’ll go back to living in a car with my daughter.
Indie: That’d be impossible. You’re pretty frugal and a hard worker.
Ty: The fear is still there, and now I’m working hard to understand the why and stop myself from living a miserable life. I don’t want this to affect Myra or any future children we have.
Indie: We’re quite a pair.
Indie: Wait, children we have? Who is this we you’re talking about?
Ty: You and me, babe. I love you. For the first time, I can see a future that doesn’t include playing until my knees give up and saving up for my child’s college. I want to have a family, you—a woman who understand me even when she’s stubborn as fuck. And if I have to wait years until you can open up to me, I’m fine with it.
Indie: Find someone less broken.
Ty: Or, and hear me out because this is a brilliant idea. We can fuse our shattered pieces and make a whole heart out of them.
Indie: Stop. I’m going to have a hard time tonight—panic attacks and nightmares and . . .
The doorbell rings, making me jump. When I open the door, Ty is there with Rigby next to him.
“We’re here to keep you company tonight—so there are no panic attacks or nightmares,” he says as if that makes it okay to be at my house.
My lip quivers. Don’t give in, I order myself.
“You were texting and driving?” I chide him.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I went to pick up Rig as soon as you left my place. I might’ve gone a little faster than the limit to make it back when you did.”
“Why didn’t you just drop him off? Why text me and . . .” I show him the phone as if accusing him of doing something atrocious. Like opening his heart to me and making me confess things I don’t want to.
“You seem to have less trouble talking to me when we text,” he responds, leaning closer and kissing my nose and then my lips.