Page 70 of Years in the Making

“Wait, how come you didn’t know?” Her face scrunches in confusion, as if what I’m speaking in another language.

“They didn’t want to tell me. Zoe found out by accident, and Mom wanted at least one of her kids not to treat her like a porcelain doll.”

“When did you find out?”

“On the side of the mountain we were spreading her ashes on.”

She shakes her head. “A mountain?”

“In BC. She was from out there and wanted her ashes to be in the winds or some shit with her parents.”

I watch as she swallows and stares at me for a breath. “So.” She swallows again, blinking rapidly as if to keep from crying. “So, you found out this huge secret far from home, grieving and vulnerable.”

“That’s the gist of it, yep.”

“Teddy, I’m—” I watch a single tear slip down her cheek and can’t stand it.

“Don’t say sorry,” I say, cutting her off. “Let’s remove that word from our vocabulary, at least when it comes to one another.”

“Okay.” She nods, although her eyes are a beacon of sorry.

We sit with the truth for a few minutes before Nellie breaks the silence. “So your mom died suddenly, and everyone but you knew it was coming?”

I nod, anger giving way to the grief that still lives deep within me. “Imagine finding out after it was too late that you should have been soaking up every single moment you had with the person you loved most.”

When I look up from my hands I see the realization in her face. “But you were with me all the time.” I nod again. “So you were mad at me too,” she states matter-of-factly.

“I thought I was, in the beginning, but no, Nellie, I was never actually mad at you. I was mad at my family for robbing me of the choice. I would have still wanted to be around you all the time. But I probably would have been more open to you being around my family more too, if that was something you would have been open to.”

“Of course I would have been open to that, Teddy. I so desperately wanted to be part of your life and vice versa.”

She rises as if to come to me, and I raise a hand, hoping to stop her, then watch in relief as she sits back down. “I’m not telling you any of this for pity or so that you’ll want some kind of relationship with me. I’m telling you this because I owed it to you after what I did. It took me months to get my head somewhat on straight, and I could have reached out then, but I wasn’t ready and I was afraid of your reaction. Anger is one thing. Pity is too much. I got it enough because of Mom’s death.”

Nellie may not be saying it, but she is oozingI’m sorrywith every blink, every move of her lips.I’m sorryis sitting in wait like a predator.

“We should get going. I’m sure you want to get to the middle of nowhere well before the crowds show up.”

She smiles at me, the pity fading from her eyes. “Probably should have hired security for crowd control,” she says thoughtfully.

“Nah, I can deal with the crowds.” I flex my arms. “Only guns I need.” The roll of her eyes sends the last of the sadness rolling along with them, and when she looks at me again it’s just with the clear deep pools of blue I fell into years ago.

Packing everything up takes very littleeffort, and we are back on the road in no time. At the end of the campground’s road, I feel pressure on my arm and look down to see Nellie’s hand.

“I missed you, Teddy,” she says, giving my arm a friendly squeeze and then turning her attention back to the road ahead.

I missed her too, so fucking much.

TWENTY-EIGHT

NELLIE

The drive to the middle of nowhere isn’t as uncomfortable as the trip had been yesterday, but we’re still not overly chatty. Telling me probably made Teddy relive some of what he had been through twelve years previously. And I’ve spent the majority of the three-hour drive processing what he said.

When I told him I had missed him, it was the truth, and it felt as close to sorry as I could get. The truth doesn’t stop me from wishing he had reached out at some point in those first couple of weeks, but I also understand more now why he hadn’t. Still, I can’t help wondering where we would be today if he had talked to me. Would we have even met if he’d known the truth? Selfishly, I hope so, because despite the immense amount of hurt I felt, having Teddy even for a little while would have been better than not having him at all.

“What’s on your mind?” Teddy’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Hmm?” I glance over.

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