Page 98 of On My Side
“Shit, sorry. I heard the piano and Piper’s really the only one to play it, so I thought it was her…”
I shake my head. “It’s your inn. You don’t have to apologize.”
The silence hangs over us like the threat of rain—uncertain, but present all the same.
“I’m going to go back,” she says. “I’m sorry for interrupting. But it was beautiful.”
It feels like someone takes an icepick to my heart, and it shatters. “You… don’t have to leave. If you don’t want to,” I choke out as she turns. She stills, and for a moment, I allow myself to dare to hope.
“I really, really don’t want to go.” Her response is so quiet I think I imagine it. Last time, it was me saying that to her. That I wanted to stay with her, in her bed. I could be petty, but whenshe turns back to me, I slide to the edge of the bench to make room for her.
She sits next to me, the hips and thighs I dream about pressed against mine. It’s devastating.
“Keep playing,” she whispers, and I do. She’s silent as I let the music speak for me. It’s like running, but instead of exerting physical energy, it’s emotional energy. As I continue to play, I almost forget about Audrey until she makes a noise. I stop playing and look at her, taken aback by the tears streaming down her face.
“Aud,” I say, but she cuts me off.
“I’m scared,” she whispers, eyes meeting mine. “I’m so scared, Ren.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I say softly. “I am, too.”
“I don’t think I know how to be brave,” she chokes out.
I stare at her in disbelief. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Not brave enough to let myself be happy. Not brave enough to be honest.”
Not brave enough to be honest.
I can be brave for her. For this. “I can’t fucking sleep,” I whisper after a moment. “I barely eat. I haven’t gone on a run because I think about the first time you brought me coffee whenever I pass the seawall. My new scripts are shit because my reality was better than anything I can imagine. And I miss you, Audrey. I didn’t tell you, when you said it, but you’re my best friend, too.”
“I never meant to lead you on. I never wanted you to feel used or that you weren’t important to me. Because that’s not true.”
I cup her cheek and wipe away her tears with my thumb, knowing it’s risky. “I can’t give you pieces of me, and I don’t want pieces of you. I want so much fucking more. You already have all of me, because you… you saw me without even trying. And Iwant all of you, too. Even if you’re scared and can’t do it right away. I want us to at leasttry.”
She leans into my hand, and the pressure is like coming home. “I’m scared I won’t do it right, and I’ll keep hurting you. I haven’t told you everything about what happened when Piper was born. But I texted her dad, who was away at college, that I was pregnant, and he wanted nothing to do with it, so I planned on getting an abortion.”
She inhales shakily. “The nurse from school called my parents to tell them about the pregnancy because she knew them from church and wanted them to know before word got out. They sat me down andtoldme they made an appointment for the abortion, and if I didn’t go, I would be kicked out. And you know Piper, how hard-headed she is. I was worse. Hearing them say Ihadto abort…” She gives me a watery smile. “I decided to continue the pregnancy out of pure spite, and I left before they could kick me out.”
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know all this, I just knew it wasn’t easy when she was pregnant, but I didn’t know the specifics.
“I… um. I never wanted you to know this part. But I need you to understand where my fear comes from.” Her voice is barely audible and my heart sinks, unsure if I’m ready for what comes next. “After I left, I went to your house. Kat and I already weren’t talking, but I thought your family would help.
“Your mom answered the door and I told her what was going on and asked if I could stay with you. And… um, she told me there were consequences to the choices we make. She didn’t want me to be a negative influence on you and your siblings. It hurt more than my own parents’ rejection.”
A raging sea of anger grows in my core. “What the hell?”
“My aunt was the only person who didn’t define me by my pregnancy. Then we lost her, and I’ve been so, so afraid of lettinganyone in, because I don’t think I’m worth staying for. And that was okay, because no one was worth the risk of being abandoned again.
“But then you showed up.” Her voice cracks. “And you kept showing up. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it scares me, Ren. Because I already know how your parents feel about me, and how they’d feel about someone like me dating their son. What happens if they still don’t want me around, or when you realize what a mess I am? When you realize you can do better? What happens to me? What happens to Piper?”
My eyes burn with the threat of my own tears. “I didn’t realize how many people failed you, and I hate that I became one of them. I’m scared too, because this incredible woman I feel so much for wants different things than me, and I’ve lost myself trying to love others many times. It’s not that I don’t want to do casual, it’s that Ican’t.” I exhale roughly. “I told you I’m demisexual, but I’m also pansexual, which means the stereotype is I want to fuck everyone, but it means my attraction isn’t based on gender. I need a strong emotional connection to be attracted to someone. So that first night? I was already all in. I kept sinking deeper and deeper, and I realized if I kept going I was going to drown. I had to save myself.”
I force myself to meet her eyes, my heart lurching at the pure expression of grief.
“I understand, especially the stereotype. I’m bisexual, so I am a victim of it to an extent, too. But I’d never want you to lose yourself,” she whispers. “I didn’t realize that’s what I was asking you to do.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
