Page 25 of Inked Craving

“I’m going to ask something, and you can’t get mad.” I looked at Paige as I said the words, and she narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t think you can tell me not to get mad. I’m just saying.”

“Fine, then please try not to get mad. How’s that?”

“Decent.” She paused, her shoulders hunching. “What is it?”

“Have you talked to Colton recently?”

She winced. And I hated myself. However, I wanted to know the answer. This relationship between her and me was odd and didn’t make any sense on paper. Colton was there. The ghost between us that wasn’t so much of a ghost.

She sighed. “Not today. He texted to check on me yesterday, but his wedding is coming up next week, so he’s a little busy with that.”

I blanked. “He didn’t invite you, did he?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Of course, he did. Because he’s Colton, and he never thinks about anything beyond wanting to do what he thinks is the good thing. I have no idea what he’s planning. Or what he’s thinking. Beyond the fact that he is starting his new life, but he also doesn’t want to leave me in a bind. His words.”

“I just don’t know why you won’t let me fly to him and beat him up.”

“Because it’s premeditated, and you’d end up in jail. Although knowing Colton, he would probably take it and wonder why on earth it took you so long for you to be a good guy and help me through some things.” She rolled her eyes, and we leaned back as the waitress handed us our food. Paige immediately went for a fry, and I held back a grin.

“Don’t judge me. But, oh my gosh, these taste so good.” She made a mayo and ketchup concoction, and I held back a shudder before she devoured half the French fries and her salad. Since I was eating just as quickly, my stomach grumbling, we didn’t need to talk too much.

By the time we were done eating and had updated each other on the next appointment that she had, as well as my job, her job, and the Montgomerys, my brain hurt. But this felt normal. Paige and I were dating and yet not dating. It didn’t make any sense, but here we were. We weren’t going to change anything.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Paige asked, rubbing her stomach. “I think I ate too many French fries.”

I nodded as I finished paying the check. “Yeah, a walk sounds good. I probably shouldn’t have eaten all the bacon that came with that club sandwich.”

“I think the waitress liked you. It was like double the meat.” I waggled my brows, and she snorted. “That’s not what I meant, but I get it. Now, is the park okay? That way, we don’t have to move our cars.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Come on.” I held out my hand, and she looked at it for a moment. I was afraid she would reject my offer and do her best to stand independent and strong, but Paige and I weren’t like that. And I needed to remind myself of that. We may be ignoring the lingering tension between us, but we were friends. And we leaned on each other. She slid her hand into mine and I ignored the relief spreading through me.

We walked our way through the park, the place relatively empty. It was a Thursday afternoon, and since I had worked the weekend to finish up a project, I had the day off. Paige had an appointment that morning and had worked over the weekend, as well, so her family had kicked her out of the office and said to enjoy some time off. I wasn’t sure how Paige felt about that, but I knew it was strange. Everybody was so careful around one another. Things would likely blow up someday soon.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” she asked after a minute, and I looked over at her. We weren’t holding hands, just walking closely, but I still felt the warmth of her.

My stomach tightened as I processed her question. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. Come on, Paige. You know that.”

Only I knew she didn’t know why. Only Beckett and Benjamin did. Not even Brenna. Though considering that Brenna had been part of our quartet for so long, it seemed like a lack of admission. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up with anyone. And, frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Why?” she asked softly. “Unless it’s too much. You don’t have to tell me.”

I looked at her then and shook my head. “Considering I go with you to your prenatal visits, maybe I should tell you a little bit.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to bring that up. There are some lines.”

I shook my head. “I don’t celebrate my birthday because my dad killed himself on my birthday.” Paige nearly stumbled over her feet, and I cringed. “Sorry. I’m usually a little more subtle than that.” I gripped her hand, keeping her steady.

She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. “How do I not know that? I’m so sorry, Lee. What the hell?”

I shrugged, that familiar pain ebbing within me. I was used to the discomfort. It was what I was good at. “My dad wasn’t healthy. He pretended that he was, but there was something wrong. He used to go to a therapist and be on meds, but he had schizophrenia. And no matter what we did, we couldn’t fix him. It wasn’t our job to fix him. But the system failed him, and maybe we did, too.” I let out a breath. “I was fourteen. My dad shot himself in the head in his office while I stood in the doorway.” I still remembered the sound of the gunshot, the way it echoed in the room and in my head. I still remembered the sight of the blood on the wall, the way half of my dad’s head had blown off, his brains and whatever else splattering the desk. I remembered it all. Even now, I would do anything to forget.

We stood there, the two of us, Paige’s tears freely flowing as her mouth gaped. “Oh my God. Lee.”

I shrugged, knowing that it probably wasn’t the right way to react. I wasn’t sure what else to do. “He was sick for a long time. And while I’m glad he’s not in pain anymore, I honestly don’t think he even remembered what day it was or knew the room he was in. Mom sent me to go get him so we could celebrate my birthday. She didn’t know what he was going to do, or the fact that I’d witness it.” I swallowed hard, rubbing my damp palms on my pants. “She blamed herself. And it wasn’t her fault. None of us could have guessed. When she asked me to go get him, I thought nothing of it. You see, he had been acting like my dad again up to that point. He had been smiling and coming to my games when I played soccer. He acted like he wasn’t breaking from the inside. We didn’t see it. My dad never hurt me. He always treated me well, even though he was sometimes a little distant. But something was wrong with him. And we couldn’t fix it. And when it was too much for him, he killed himself. And I just happened to be there.”

I let out a breath. “Mom died four years later. Not on my birthday, but close enough. We never celebrated my birthday in those four years, and it wasn’t like she had the energy to do so when the cancer hit her hard. So, there’s that. I became an orphan at eighteen, old enough to be an adult, but young enough to not know what the fuck I was doing.” I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

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