Page 103 of The Love You Fight For
He’s such a dick.
See you in 5.
TWENTY-FIVE
I makethe drive back to Franklin when I know Chris is working at the garage.
I avoid the main road that drives past Franklin Auto Body and the community rec center that Lennon and Macon run and live above. I leave my phone in my condo in D.C. and rent a car with my personal credit card.
I make it all the way to Tiffany’s block, and then I take a Valium.
I lay my head back on the seat headrest and breathe. I think of Lennon reading meJane Eyre. I think of Chris and the lake. I think of his words.Let me be your peace.
I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve any of them, but I will.
When I’m certain I’m not going to have a panic attack, I open the car door and walk up the sidewalk to the house. I hear giggles and kids shouting through the door, and it makes me smile despite my nerves. I knock and no one comes. I wait five minutes, and then I ring the bell.
The door opens immediately, and I come face to face with Michael.
It takes all my strength not to start crying and fall on my knees to be forgiven. The smile he gives me makes it worse.
“If you’re selling Girl Scout cookies, you’re out of luck.” He grins. “We have a freezer full of them from the spring.”
I force a smile and shrug.
“Guess I’ll try again next year,” I say, and he laughs.
It’s full and good-natured and so verynotruined. It gives me hope and bolsters my confidence.
“Can I maybe talk to Tiffany?” I ask quietly, and his smile grows softer.
Still kind. Still real. But a little sad.
“Sure,” he says. “Do you want to come in?”
I shake my head.
“Don’t want to push my luck,” I say with a half-hearted smile, and he nods.
“I’ll get her.”
He shuts the door, and I wait. I wait five more minutes. Then the door opens, and Chris’s sister steps out onto the front porch before pulling it closed behind her.
“You wanted to see me?” she says curtly.
I nod and scan her face. She looks tired. Her face is a little swollen, and she stands with her hand on her back like it’s hurting. She’s probably due soon, and I’m overwhelmed with the desire to see her baby. To hold it. To be a part of something that isn’t cold and corrupt.
“Do you want to sit?” I gesture to the porch swing.
She shakes her head.
“That thing is more uncomfortable than standing.”
“Okay. I’ll, um. I’ll make it quick, then.”
She arches a brow and looks me up and down, but she doesn’t shut me down. I take that as a good sign and continue.
“I wanted to come and tell you that I didn’t know...what my family has done to your family. I didn’t know about your mom and my father, and I didn’t know about Chase and Michael. I had no idea until two weeks ago.”
