Page 103 of A Forever Love

“I know. I swear, I’d never done it before. But she found me on one of my worst days. What I didn’t know was that I’m allergic to weed. So, she took me to a hospital outside campus, knowing I couldn’t risk my uncles or the staff getting a whiff of what had happened. I was in bad shape that night, Mere.” He finally looks at me. “I was nauseous and vomiting. She had to change because I’d ruined her clothes while she was helping me up to my apartment building. And I think that’s how you found her.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.” My words falter. Was all my pain, my misery, a misunderstanding? But then Jena’s face flashes before me. “She told me you two were together.”

Carter’s fist clenches over his thigh. “I’m not an asshole, Mere. I’m not going to blame Jena for getting me high. It was my own doing. But what she did to you was a bitchy thing, especially after she knew how you felt about me.”

“Did…you know?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m not sure if that was because I didn’t want to see it or because I was just too dense.”

“You are not dense. I didn’t realize it myself when the lines became so blurred. You were my best friend, but then you were slowly becoming more. I didn’t know when I started measuring every guy in school who approached me against the yardstick that was you, and everyone fell short.”

Carter doesn’t say anything, but he rests his hand over mine. After a pause that stretches for a few seconds, he says, “I still don’t know what happened in the last four years, mittens.” His thumb lazily traces over my semicolon lily tattoo. “Why did you need this?”

My throat tightens, and forming words becomes a struggle. “I told you, it was just a stupid college thing.”

“I know what it is. I know it’s a testament of how brave you’ve been. Look at me, mittens.” His fingers delicately sweep aside the curtain of hair that has fallen over my face as my head hangs low. He gently lifts my face, his touch tender. “I know it’s because of me.” His haunted gaze pierces my chest, feeling as if someone is tearing my heart out of my body.

“It’s not because of—” My words get caught when Carter places a finger on my lips.

“Shh. My biggest life regret is that I’ve been too hung up on the past, to the point where I failed to appreciate the happiness today can bring me. I won’t make the same mistake with you that I made with Mom. But I do need to know what you went through.”

“It’s stupid and insignificant now.”

“You and your emotions are the most significant thing in my life, Mere. I promise this is the last time we’ll talk about it.”

Fear taps in my chest, and all my insecurities become like a balled storm in my stomach. “I don’t want the memory of our first date to be a sad and dark one.” I make another attempt, hoping he’ll drop the subject.

“There will be plenty of happy moments tonight for us to remember, I promise. When we look back at this day, both of us with white hair, sitting on some porch swing, sipping cinnamon lattes, babysitting our grandkids, I’ll remind you of this very moment.”

“Grandkids! I’m only twenty-two.”

“Yeah. We have lots and lots of time to make all our dreams come true.” He smiles before gently cradling my face. “But tonight, we need to take a step back before we can move forward.”

I close my eyes, attempting to push away the fear, and bury my face in Carter’s chest. “I’m scared. I’m afraid of losing you.”

“Didn’t I promise you years ago that I’d slay all your fears, mittens? I’m not going anywhere—not now, not ever.” Carter pulls me into a tight embrace, my face close to his chest, where I listen to his erratic heartbeat. “You and I are like two peas in the same pod. The same pain shaped us—abandonment. I fought to find an absent father so desperately that I didn’t care about the mother who was always there waiting for me, while you patiently waited for your father to emerge from his grief, making the most of every day until I pulled the rug of safety out from under your feet.”

“You did no such thing.” Emotions buried deep within my heart find their way to the surface.

“Tell me. Please.”

My words escape as nothing more than a shivering breath of air. “When I ran away from your apartment, I…I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go home. It was too early, and Dad would ask so many questions. At that moment, I realized you and your apartment were my safe sanctuary. I never considered having many friends because I never needed anyone except you. The truth was like a dark multi-headed serpent ready to devour me whole. For a decade, I’d been upset that my dad was chasing a love that was gone and no longer his, yet here I was pining over a love that wasn’t mine. My inner voice, which had been in hiding for so many years, returned with a vengeance to remind me that I’m not someone who can be loved.”

I rub my cheeks against his shirt, and his grip, still tight around me, is a comfort. I take another deep breath before starting. “I hated myself for having those thoughts. I wasn’t the same five-year-old kid anymore. My father wasn’t ignoring me, I had Clem in my life, and I was going to be a big sister. But the pain of not having you…”

Finally, I gather the courage to look up. “I cried beside Mom for the first time that day—not for myself, but for Dad. I had only been touched by this kind of love, but Dad had lived it, and I understood then how living without it felt to him—harder than death. I don’t even remember falling asleep, but my phone kept ringing nonstop. It was Brandon. He had received a call from Clem since I hadn’t replied to any of her texts. I told him where I was, and he came to pick me up, then drove me back home. He knew about you. I also went to Franny’s to buy the cupcake with him. He had dropped me off at your apartment.”

I’m always too scared to revisit that night, but right now, with Carter’s arms wrapped around me like a protective lasso, I’m ready to release all this darkness from my system once and for all.

“Brandon is a good friend,” Carter says carefully.

“He is. When I moved, he decided I needed him even when I was too proud to ask.” I take another deep breath. “For the next few months, my routine included only two things—attending classes and being at home. I stopped talking to anyone, and I was terrified to sleep. Every night, it was you on repeat—your face from that night, standing behind Jena, asking me to leave and go away. I tried to remember other moments, our happy times, but my thoughts kept pulling me back to that night. Months flew by, the twins were born, and then when Christmas came, I told Dad I wasn’t coming home. I think he always believed something had happened, but he had hoped he was wrong. He flew in the next day, and when he saw me, he crushed me to his chest. He didn’t hear a word and took me to a therapist. I was diagnosed with severe depression and suicidal ideation. I think the ground shifted beneath Dad’s feet that day, but I promised him I’d never hurt myself. I couldn’t do that to him or Clem. I’d seen up close what it meant to be the one left behind.” This time, the tears falling from my eyes weren’t just for me but for Dad too.

“And that helped?” he asks softly.

“I worked with the therapist. For a very long time, I thought we weren’t making progress, but I’d promised Dad I’d attend therapy every day. I think it was five months later when she asked me if I still believed that love wasn’t for me. I made a duh face. There I was, sitting in her office, battling depression. Wasn’t that enough of an answer for her? But then she said that there’s nothing more powerful in this world than love. And if that wasn’t the case, every religion wouldn’t preach about it—love yourself, love your neighbor, love your enemy, love animals. How could love not be for me when I left everything behind because of your love? When I chose to live even when dying felt easier, all because of my love for Dad and Clem? It was then I realized love had always been with me, it just wasn’t playing my game.”

My heart feels lighter than it ever has. But when Carter’s hand brushes over my tattoo, I realize there are still a few things left to be shared. “After my last regular therapy session, Dad and I went to a tattoo parlor owned by one of his former Navy buddies. I think this was more for Dad’s benefit—my way of telling him that I wasn’t going to go back to that darkness again. When I saw the lily flower in the catalog, I knew it was the one.” I look up at Carter. His face is devoid of emotion, but it’s his eyes. Those moss-green orbs have spoken volumes since the very first day I met him, and even today they speak of his pain.

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