Page 49 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

You need to show her you’re not willing to give up.

My sister’s right. This situation isn’t going to rectify itself. I need to do something. I grab a coat from the hooks behind the front door, and with only a second’s hesitation, I walk back out into the downpour. My nerves kick in, and suddenly, the rain isn’t that important anymore. I need to find out what is going on. I need to fix this.

21

Charlie

All those same feelings have returned. Everything I suffered when Troy left ten years ago—all the pain, anger, and anguish—has come back to consume me. After such a length of time, I never thought I would experience such depths of despair again.

Even when I found out Eddy had cheated on me, I didn’t feel this broken. But then, I never loved Eddy like I loved Troy. Or should I say, I love Troy? Because I do love him. I never stopped, not really. When he left, I pushed what I felt deep down, packed it into a trunk, and buried it deep in a place where I could lose it.

Since his return, the chest has been pried open. Just a tiny crack at first, but the more time I’ve spent with him, the larger the gap became, until eventually, the lid was thrown back as I remembered how much he meant to me. How much I adored him.

Maybe my ignoring his messages and calls is childish. But it doesn’t feel childish to me. I’m protecting myself. My walls are up again, thicker and taller than ever before. He’s hurt me again, and I let that happen. I won’t allow it to happen a third time, though.

After I ran out of Dad’s house, he tried calling me a few times, too. I ignored him as much as I ignored Troy. When the initial shock was over, I thought about his part in all of this. After everything I had done for him growing up. All the cleaning, cooking, picking up after him, cleaning up his vomit when he had drunk too much, all of it. How does he repay me? By sending the one man I love away.

He is as responsible as Troy for my heartbreak. And he’s kept it from me all these years. Back then, when I was devastated, Dad blamed Troy. He made a point of telling me what a bad guy he was, how he never trusted him, and how I could do so much better.

Of course, there was never any comfort. His only daughter was devastated beyond words, but not once did he hug me or tell me that it would all be all right. Who knows? Maybe it was guilt, though I don’t think Dad feels that emotion too often. I do know he was delighted when Troy left. He didn’t try too hard to hide that fact.

I went to see Milly yesterday. She was working a half day, and I texted her, telling her I needed to meet her. She suggested coffee, but I refused. I couldn’t know that I wasn’t going to break down again, and in this small town, that news would have spread like wildfire in a drought.

“Let’s go for a drive,” I said when I picked her up.

She gave me a quizzical look. “All right.”

I drove us out of town. It took a good twenty minutes before Milly’s desperate need to know what was going on burst from her.

“Something happened, right? Is it something between you and Troy?”

I nodded but kept driving. In my peripheral vision, I could see her brow furrow.

“Is it bad? Like, really bad?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

I continued driving until we reached a small wood with a parking lot overlooking a lake. I’ve gone there many times to gather my thoughts. When I turned the engine off, I sat for a minute, just staring out through the windshield.

“Oh, my Lord, Charlie,” Milly gasped. “Please tell me what’s happened. I can see that you’re devastated. What did Troy do?”

“Actually,” I said, “it’s what he didn’t do.”

Milly was staring at me, her eyes wide and a worried expression dancing on her face. “Okay. What didn’t he do?” she said eagerly.

“He didn’t tell me the truth, Milly,” I said, feeling my throat tighten again.

My eyes were stinging, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling. Once more, sobs burst from me, which resulted in Milly throwing her arms around me.

We sat there for some time, me crying, Milly comforting, until there were no more tears to cry. When I finally gathered myself after much sniffling, I was finally able to speak. I told her the whole story; the shopping trip, what Dad had said at the house, and to give her some perspective, I added what Troy had told me when I asked him why he had left.

Milly listened intently, nodding at some parts and grimacing at others, until eventually, I came to the end.

“Maybe if he had just told me the truth, Milly, I could understand. But…” I tried to find the right words. “I don’t know. How am I ever supposed to trust him again?”

Milly didn’t answer. She held my hands in hers and looked at me sympathetically.

I couldn’t blame her for not having anything to say. I mean, what are you supposed to say to something like that? But something irked me about her reaction. I tried to figure out what seemed so unnatural.

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