As always, the house smells like lavender. It’s Ella’s trademark. When you’ve been gone for a while, it always seems to be more noticeable when you return. As Tyler and I edge into the hall, we linger by the bottom of the staircase. We glance into the living room, but there’s no one there despite the fact that the TV is on.
Tyler drops his bag onto the stairs, relaxing his shoulders before he clears his throat and yells, “We’re home!”
For a few seconds, we wait. There’s some commotion as Ella comes rushing through from the kitchen at the exact same time as we hear footsteps upstairs, but Ella is the first to reach us. She’s in tears before she’s even said a word, a huge smile on her face as she grasps Tyler in her arms and pulls him against her. He’s much taller than her, but she rests her hands on his hair as he hugs her back. I watch them with a small smile on my lips, a smile that’s both sad and content. Ella and Tyler have always had a close bond, and I know first-hand just how much she’s missed her son over the past year. All the time, she would talk about him. Mention how proud she was. Ask if calling him five times in one day was too much. Dad would often roll his eyes and leave the room. I’d always stay. I’d always tell her that I missed Tyler too.
Ella takes a step back, cupping Tyler’s jaw in her hands as she gazes up at him with undying love and affection. “You’re really here!” Almost bubbling with joy as the tears continue to escape her eyes, she smothers his face in kisses.
“Mom, c’mon.” Tyler says as he turns his head to the side. Reaching for her wrists, he moves her hands from his face and lets out a laugh. “Gross.”
Ella sniffs, her smile sheepish as she wipes away her tears with her thumb. She’s just about to part her lips to say something else at the exact same time as Chase comes through from the kitchen, but Tyler doesn’t even get a single second to acknowledge his brother, because suddenly our attention is drawn to the pounding on the staircase.
Dad is definitely not thrilled to see us. He comes storming down the stairs, his eyes narrowed and his cheeks a flaming red. Before he even reaches the bottom, he’s already growling, “Is it true?” He’s not looking at Ella. He’s not looking at Chase. He’s looking at Tyler and he’s looking at me.
It’s perfectly clear what my dad is referring to. We both know it. My entire body deflates; my heart sinks in my chest. I can’t bring myself to answer, and neither can Tyler. We’re too taken aback by Dad’s question to even react.
“Dave . . .” Ella murmurs, stepping forward and turning to face her husband. Her expression is perplexed, her eyebrows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”
A figure moves at the top of the staircase, which immediately catches my eye. I glance up, looking past Dad, to find Jamie. He’s hovering on the landing with his lips pressed into a firm line and his arms folded across his chest as he watches the scene unfold. It’s not difficult to make sense of the situation, to know that Jamie simply couldn’t keep quiet until we got here, even when Tyler made it clear that we wanted to tell our parents on our own. Telling them ourselves would have been the right thing to do. Jamie being the one to break the news to Dad is quite literally the worst thing that could have happened. It makes it seem like we weren’t planning on telling him and Ella the truth in the first place.
Tyler must notice Jamie too, because he lunges toward the stairs with his hands balled into fists, muttering something under his breath that I don’t quite catch. Without a second of hesitation, however, Dad blocks him from going any further by grabbing his shirt and pushing him back across the hall. He slams Tyler against the wall, pressing his arm firmly across his chest as he holds him there. Ella sucks in a horrified gasp at the exact same time as she jumps forward, attempting to shove Dad off Tyler by pushing at his shoulder, but he’s too strong for her and doesn’t even budge.
“Is it true?” Dad yells again, his face only inches from Tyler’s as he leans harder against his chest. There’s suddenly a waft of booze in the air too, and I squint at my dad suspiciously when I realize it’s coming from him.
Ella takes a cautious step toward him and Tyler. Her eyes slowly widen as she quietly asks, “Is what true?”
“The two of them!” Dad almost chokes on his words, so wrapped up in fury and disbelief that he can hardly string his sentences together. His voice is still loud and coarse, though, and he manages to give a clipped nod in my direction. “Him and Eden! God, I—I don’t even know what to think!”
Tyler finally pushes Dad away from him with one firm shove, immediately straightening up. The veins in his neck stand out as he mutters, “Let us fucking explain.”
Ella still doesn’t understand what’s going on. She glances around Dad, Tyler and me for a few moments as though she’s searching our expressions for answers. Dad’s breathing heavily, both hands pressed to his temples as he shakes his head at the floor, trying to comprehend this new information. And so she turns to Tyler instead, her features twisting with worry the same way my mom’s did. I can only imagine what’s running through her mind right now. “Explain what, Tyler?”
Tyler runs a hand back through his hair as he looks at her, taking a second to think of the right words to say. Dad’s glanced up again to glare at him as he waits to hear what the explanation will be, and his breathing is so loud that the only sound we can all hear right now is that and the TV. But Tyler doesn’t even look at my dad. He only keeps on looking straight at Ella and occasionally at Chase, who doesn’t really know what’s going on but is listening anyway. And after a while, Tyler finally drops his eyes to the floor and exhales, ready to talk for us both. “None of this was supposed to happen,” he says quietly, never looking up, “but all of it did. I can’t feel bad about it and I can’t feel sorry about it, because I’m not. It’s just the way things have turned out, and honestly, it’s not our fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s yours.” He tilts his face up now, glancing between Ella and my dad. He swallows hard. “It’s your fault for putting us together in the first place.”
Dad immediately scoffs, placing his hands on his hips as he turns to face the opposite direction, still shaking his head. Ella, however, only blinks. She looks more perplexed than she did a few seconds ago.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“I’m talking about Eden,” Tyler says without a moment’s pause. He glances over his shoulder at me, locking his eyes with mine. They soften briefly, and he nods, so I edge forward, joining him by his side. I’m so thankful that he’s doing all the talking. I can hardly even look Dad and Ella in the eye, let alone come clean to them. Tyler, on the other hand, keeps on going now that he’s gotten started. “I’m talking about the fact that I’m in love with her. Have been for two years. So sure, Dave, it’s true.”
Ella’s jaw falls open slightly and she barely manages to whisper, “What?” as she blinks fast and rapidly.
“This is disgraceful! You’re making a mockery out of this family! Is that what you want to do? Make us all look like fools? God, can you imagine the laughter if this ever gets out!” Dad spits, turning back around to face us all. The wrinkles around his eyes seem even more noticeable right now, perhaps with how narrowed his glower has become. And as though he can no longer bear the sight of us, he begins to walk away, muttering, “You disgust me.” It’s to me, of course, and as he storms by, he shoulders me out of the way.
Suddenly Tyler jolts from beside me, taking a step forward and hurling his clenched fist through the air. It hits the exact center of my dad’s cheek with a sickening thud. Dad instantly spirals to one side, his body falling against the stairs as he lands in a sprawling heap.
“Tyler!” Ella yells, jumping forward. She doesn’t go to her son, though. She goes to Dad, bending down to check if he’s okay, rubbing softly at his face.
At the exact same time, I turn to Tyler. I throw my hands up in exasperation at him, wondering what the hell he’s playing at. His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he breathes and his eyes are still set on my dad, so as a precaution I grab his fist. Just in case.
Jamie has descended a few steps toward Dad while trying his best not to make eye contact with Tyler and me. His cheeks are rather flushed by now and maybe he’s feeling too guilty to get involved, because he just lingers in the background, observing but not helping. Even Chase decides to stay out of the situation. He backs slowly away toward the kitchen, watching from afar.
“Hey, Eden,” Dad mutters in contempt, drawing my attention to him as he rises to his feet again, his eyes fierce, “even if Tyler wasn’t your damn stepbrother . . . is this the kinda guy you wanna be with, huh?” He points to his cheek and then nods toward Tyler. “Some out-of-control kid who’s gonna end up in a cell just like his father?”
“David!” Ella gasps.
Dad’s words are so cruel that I momentarily feel sick at the fact that he thought it was okay to say such a thing, no matter how furious he is. It’s enough to cause me to become enraged myself, and I grind my teeth together so hard that I fear my entire mouth might just shatter. When I force myself to glance sideways at Tyler, I can see the pain and devastation in his eyes, and he reacts to Dad’s words the only way he knows how: with anger and violence, the way he was raised. The muscle in his jaw is twitching and his fist is clenching even harder beneath my hand, so I let go. Dad deserves it.
Tyler throws another punch without hesitation. Of course he does. This time, I can’t blame him. In fact, I even feel rather satisfied when his fist catches Dad’s nose. Dad only falls back a step or two this time, managing to keep his balance as he reaches up to touch his face, checking for blood. There is none, but he still raises his eyebrows and manages to smile in disbelief.
“Look at this!” Dad bellows. “Assaulted twice within a minute! God, Eden, your life choices are fantastic! First you choose some bullshit school halfway across the country and now you choose this asshole! Your stepbrother!” He starts to laugh, his entire demeanor vicious as he leans against the wall.
Tyler steps toward him again, ready to throw another punch. “Look who’s talking.”
Honestly, I think I could swing at Dad too by now. Ever since he walked out on Mom and me, my relationship with him has been strained. Maybe it’s the fact I didn’t see him for three years. Maybe it’s the fact he didn’t want to see me for three years. Something changed when he left, and ever since then it’s been hard, but it’s been stable for a while. We’ve been trying to get along and it’s been working, until now. He’s never been so nasty before, never so harsh. I’m trying my best to keep my temper cool, but it’s hard not to explode. There are a million things I could yell back at him, but before either Tyler or I can do anything stupid, Ella comes running through from the kitchen. I didn’t even notice her disappear, but she’s suddenly in front of us again, pushing both Tyler and I backward and away from Dad.
“Look, get out of here,” she says quickly in a low voice, forcing Tyler’s car keys into his palm and squeezing his hand closed around them. “I don’t know what to think right now and I’m sorry about him.” She throws a glance over her shoulder toward Dad. He’s still laughing, but now Jamie is attempting to shut him up, and when Ella turns back to face us, she’s frowning. “He’s got the rest of the week off work, so he’s had a few drinks and . . . Look, you two, I’m really sorry. We need to really talk about what’s going on between you both, but right now you need to leave.”
“Don’t be mad at us,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “Please don’t.”
Ella releases a heavy sigh, glancing back to check on Dad again. Her frown deepens. “Just let me think about it. Now go.” Gently, she pats Tyler’s cheek. “And fix up that hand.”
Both Tyler and I glance down at the exact same time. I don’t think he’s even noticed until now, but he’s busted open two knuckles on his right hand, and he’s bleeding. He sighs, shaking his hand and glancing back up. I try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at me. Instead, he reaches for his bag, which has been knocked onto the floor, at the same time as Ella returns to Dad, helping Jamie to calm him down. Chase is still hiding in the kitchen.
Tyler doesn’t say a word as he turns back around for the door, only brushes his shoulder against mine as he walks past me, heading straight outside. I immediately spin around and follow close on his heels, jogging to keep up with his strides as he marches across the lawn toward his car.
“Tyler,” I say. No reply. Just silence. “Tyler,” I say again, reaching for his elbow. When he senses my touch, he finally stops walking and turns around to look at me.
“What the hell do we do now?” he asks, eyes dark. All the color in his face has completely drained and his expression is blank.
“You can stay at my mom’s place,” I say immediately. Mom won’t mind. Mom likes Tyler, and given the circumstances, I’m sure she’ll let him spend the night. “C’mon, follow me over.”
“Okay,” is all he says. He turns and walks the final few feet to his car as I study him, wondering if it’s safe to let him drive. He looks slightly numb and spaced out, like he might just pass out any second, but he slides into his car nonetheless and starts the engine.
I drive my own car back to my mom’s house, with Tyler trailing along behind me, and the entire time I wonder why I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel upset. Not angry. Not anymore, at least. Not frustrated. Not anything. In a way, the outcome is almost like I always expected it to be. Dad was never going to take the news well, sober or not, and Ella . . . I don’t know about Ella. I can’t quite figure out if she’s repulsed or just shocked. Dad, however, is just an asshole, the same way he always has been. I’m used to it by now. Sometimes he’s alright. Sometimes he’s the guy he is tonight.
I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I don’t know if by tomorrow everything will have calmed down again. All we need is a chance to explain ourselves, to make them understand, and that can only happen if Dad and Ella give us the time to do so. Tonight, they certainly didn’t. Maybe once the initial anger and confusion and shock wears off, they’ll hear us out. They have to. They don’t have another choice. What else can they do? Kick us out of the family forever? Forbid us from being together?
I bypass Dean’s house on the way home, tapping my fingers impatiently on the wheel as I drive in silence. I keep glancing in my rearview mirror to check that Tyler’s still there. He is, of course, tailgating me to the point where I firmly believe that any second now he might just rear-end me. Both our cars make it back to my mom’s place without a scratch, however, and I waste no time clambering out of my vehicle.
It’s after ten by now, and I walk around to Tyler’s car door and wait for him as he steps out. He still looks as pale as he did when he first got in and his hand seems to have gotten worse.
“I’d say sorry for hitting your dad,” he says quietly as he reaches back into the car for his bag, “but I’m not.” Slamming the door shut, he turns and advances along the footpath toward the front door. Again, he doesn’t wait for me, and I’m starting to get the feeling that he’s mad at me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask once I catch up to him again. I fall into place directly opposite him as we pause by the door for a second before heading inside.
“No,” he says. As he glances out onto the street, he sighs and presses a hand to his forehead before his eyes meet mine again. “I’m sorry. Tonight has been a mess. I’m thinking about my dad and I’m thinking about Jamie and I’m thinking about my mom and I’m thinking about your dad and I’m thinking about you,” he murmurs. Slowly, his lips pull up into a half-smile. “But mostly just you.” He drops his gaze to his watch, and when he glances back up, he shrugs. “You know, it’s after 1AM in New York. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”
I wasn’t tired, but now that Tyler has brought it up, I suddenly feel my body sinking with fatigue. It feels like New York was forever ago, but the truth is we were still there this afternoon. So much has happened since then, with a six-hour flight in the middle of it all, and with the time difference thrown in too, I really do want nothing more right now than to just head straight to bed. So I say, “How about we deal with this in the morning?” to which Tyler nods, and we head inside.
Mom and Jack are watching some Lifetime movie on TV when we walk in, both of them sprawled out on the couch, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Gucci’s asleep on the floor, and although she does open her eyes to the sound of our entrance, she doesn’t bother to get up and greet us. Mom and Jack, however, immediately pause the TV and pull themselves up into a seated position.
“You guys don’t look all that relieved,” Mom comments, furrowing her eyebrows. She’s draped in her gown by this point, so she holds it closed with one hand as she gets to her feet. “Tyler, what are you doing back here?”
“It didn’t go great,” I admit, glancing sideways at Tyler as I shrug. He still seems quiet. “Dad was drunk, so he was a jerk and Ella told us to leave.”
A huff of disapproval leaves Mom’s lips as she shakes her head in rebuke, most likely at Dad, and she floats across the living room toward us. Quickly, she becomes sympathetic, smiling softly at us both. “I’m sure everything will be okay,” she reassures us, her tone soothing. “Just give them some time to come to terms with it.”
My head feels heavy, and I frown. “What if they don’t?”
Mom thinks about my question for a short while, even glancing at Jack for help, but all he does is shrug, so all she can do is pull a face and shrug too. “I don’t know what to tell you, Eden,” she says.
“Can you clean up Tyler’s hand?” I ask quickly, changing the subject. I’m kind of done with Dad and Ella right now. I’m too tired to deal with them, and Tyler’s hand is still busted up, so I focus on that instead. Gently, I reach for his hand and hold it up for Mom to examine.
“God, what the hell did you do?” she blurts as her eyes flash up to meet Tyler’s. Now he looks embarrassed.
“He hit Dad,” I answer for him. “Twice.”
“That’s too bad for Dave,” Mom murmurs, but she’s suppressing a smile. “Tyler, come on over to the sink.”
Mom only takes a few minutes to fix up Tyler’s hand. In those minutes, however, Jack manages to offer Tyler a beer and I manage to awkwardly ask if Tyler can spend the night, and Mom agrees. According to her, anyone who can throw a punch at Dad is more than welcome to stay. Tyler’s thankful for the hospitality, although he does decline the beer. He’s too tired.
“We’re gonna get some sleep,” I tell Mom as she tidies up in the kitchen while Tyler tightens and relaxes his hand repeatedly, as though the exercise will make the cuts disappear. “It’s late in New York.”
“Well, I hope you both feel a little better about everything in the morning,” Mom says, angling her body to face me as she pulls me into a brief hug, and then both she and Jack wish us goodnight as they return to their movie.
I reach for Tyler’s hand, interlocking our fingers as I pull him toward the hall. My room is the very first door, yet I’ve barely even touched the handle when I hear Mom clear her throat from behind us. I quickly let go of Tyler and turn around.
“I know I’m a super-cool mom and all, but I’m not that cool,” she says, giving Tyler a pointed glance, her expression stern. “Tyler gets the guest room.”
“No problem,” Tyler says.
Rolling my eyes, I turn back and head straight down the hall. The guest room is the last room on the left and it’s the one room in the house that’s hardly ever used, so I lead Tyler over and then halt by the door. The lights in the hall are off too, so when I turn to face him, I end up looking at him through the faint darkness. I keep quiet for a moment while I allow my eyes to adjust, and when they do, I realize that Tyler’s staring at the floor.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, now growing more concerned than anything else. I try to force his gaze to meet mine, but it doesn’t.
Instead, Tyler reaches for the door and pushes it open, walking past me and into the guest room without even glancing up. “I’ll talk to you later,” he says quietly.
“Hey,” I say sharply, folding my arms across my chest as I follow him into the room and flick on the light. I stand and wait, pressing my lips into a firm line. “I asked you if you were okay.”
Tyler sighs as he tilts his face down, his back still turned to me. He throws his bag onto the center of the bed and runs his hand through his hair, softly tugging on the ends before he turns his body to face mine. “I’m not gonna lie and tell you that I’m okay when I’m not,” he finally says.
“Then talk to me.” I take a few steps toward him, closing the distance between us, and I press a hand to his chest. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes, feeling his heart beating slow and hard beneath my palm.
But Tyler clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, because he carefully reaches for my wrist and moves my hand away as he takes a step back from me. “I said I’ll talk to you later,” he says with a firm edge to his voice, like he really means it and doesn’t want me to push the matter any further. Spinning back around, he sits down on the edge of the bed and bends forward, interlocking his hands. “Can you shut the door on the way out?” he asks, his voice so low and so quiet that it’s almost a whisper.
I’m not entirely sure what’s up with Tyler right now, but he’s making it pretty clear that he wants some space, so I bite my lip and force myself to leave, despite how much I’d rather stay. When I reach the door, I press my hand to the frame and glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s sitting still, hardly blinking, just breathing.
“If you want, you can sneak over to my room any time after midnight,” I whisper, but he doesn’t even react, let alone respond, so I shut the door and leave him alone.
I don’t know what time it is when I flinch awake and I don’t know how long Tyler’s been nudging me for, but I do know that it startles the hell out of me. I almost roll completely off my bed, so surprised by the intruder in my room that I suffer heart palpitations. Pushing back my comforter, I push my body up and lean over to my bedside table, fumbling around with the light switch in the darkness. Finally, I find it, and the corner of my room brightens up with a warm glow.
“Jesus Christ, Tyler,” I mutter, exhaling as I tilt my head forward, pressing my hand across my forehead. I know I told him to try sneak across the hall, but I seem to have fallen into such a deep slumber that I totally forgot. I’m not used to being in my own room again and I’m certainly not used to having Tyler staying over. “Way to scare the hell out of me.”
Tyler’s standing by the side of my bed, but not too close, and as his sheer height towers over me his face is illuminated by the lamplight. It allows me to see the tightness in his jaw, the nervousness in his eyes and the lump in his throat. “I need to talk to you now,” he tells me quietly.
“Really? You need to talk to me now?” Holding my comforter tight against my chest, I reach for my phone on my bedside table with my free hand and check the time. It’s just after 4AM, so I groan and lean back against my pillows, rolling my eyes in irritation. That’s when I realize that Tyler’s still fully dressed, only now he’s pulled on a jacket. I get the feeling he’s not here to slip into bed alongside me, so I quickly sit forward again. “Tyler?”
Tyler chews on his lower lip rather anxiously as he rubs at the back of his neck. At the exact same time, he retreats away from me even further, moving toward the door. The light from the lamp on my bedside table doesn’t quite stretch that far, so there’s a shadow cast over his face that prevents me from seeing his expression as he says, “I need to get out of this city.”
At first, I don’t understand. His words don’t make sense and they come so out of nowhere that I don’t reply to begin with. I listen to the silence of the house instead, blinking at Tyler’s silhouette by the door. “What do you mean?” I finally bring myself to ask.
“I mean that I’m gonna leave for a while,” Tyler says.
My stomach twists, suddenly knotted. Now I’m wide awake and Tyler has my full attention. A shiver even surges down my spine as every inch of my body tells me that none of this is good. “Why?”
Tyler releases a slow, deep sigh. He walks back around to the side of my bed, back into the light, and his shadow flits across the walls. “There’s too much going on right now,” he admits, “and I need to figure things out.” Leaning back against my wall, he pauses for a second to string together his next few sentences, deeply thinking about the right words to say and the right things to tell me. The entire time, my body is growing stiff.
“You know, I don’t want to be anywhere near my dad. I can’t cope with it, and I don’t think I can handle your dad, either, because I might just end up beating the hell out of both of them.” Another pause. Now my body is starting to feel cold, even though I’m under the comforter. Worry crosses Tyler’s face and his voice drops to a whisper as he asks, “What if your dad’s right? What if I do end up like mine?”
“You’re nothing like your dad, Tyler.”
“But I am,” he argues, his jaw tightening. “My temper snaps just as fast as his used to, and that’s what scares the hell out of me. I want out of this city and as far away from him as I can get.”
“Come to Chicago with me,” I blurt immediately. It’s the first thought that hits me, and it’s not a bad idea. I’m leaving in the fall, packing up and heading halfway across the country to settle down in the Windy City. And I realize then that I haven’t once thought about what would happen in September when I left. I never considered the fact that Tyler and I would be separated by distance again, so suddenly the idea of Tyler coming with me to Illinois is the only thing I’m rooting for. Kind of like running away together. Kind of.
But my new plan for us both is quickly shot down, because Tyler simply says, “No.”
“Why?” I ask, both dismayed and confused. My moment of excitement comes to an end. So much for Chicago.
Tyler closes his eyes for a second and tilts his face down to my carpet, leaning against the wall. He still looks tired, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s even slept at all. The longer he takes to reply to me, the more nervous I grow, and it turns out I have every right to be anxious, because when he glances back up at me, his expression has contorted, twisting with hurt as he whispers, “Because I don’t really want to be near you either.”
I want to have misheard. I need to have misheard, because the moment the final word escapes his lips, Tyler’s lips, everything inside of me shifts. My stomach tightens even more than it already has and my voice catches in my throat, taken aback by his words. “What are you talking about?” I force myself to ask, my voice feeble.
“Maybe you were right before,” he says without hesitation, talking fast as he shakes his head. “Maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
“Where the hell is this coming from?” I demand, anger rushing through every single inch of my being as I push back my comforter and swing out of my bed, straightening up on my feet. I’m really praying that I’m dreaming right now. I have to be. Tyler would never say that.
Tyler quickly flinches away from me as I approach, pivoting around me and walking back toward the door again. As his back is turned to me, his rasping voice dares to tell me, “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.”
And right then, everything inside of me shatters. My heart stands still. My lungs collapse. My blood thins. My throat hurts. Everything, absolutely everything, suddenly hurts. From the way my head suddenly feels way too heavy to the way my knees slowly buckle beneath me, I have to press a hand to the wall to stabilize myself. My breathing has quickened, and I’m almost hyperventilating as I try to understand what’s going on. “You didn’t just say that,” I croak.
“I’m sorry,” Tyler blurts quickly, spinning around to look at me. His eyes are dull, far from furious, looking more damaged than anything else, yet his apology doesn’t sound sincere at all. He doesn’t sound sorry. “Look, I gotta go.” He pulls out his car keys from the pocket of his jeans and reaches for the door.
Although I feel paralyzed, I force my legs to move and I rush over to him, sliding my body between his and the door. I press my back against the wood, pushing it closed as I block his only exit. “No! You don’t get to just walk out like this!” I yell, exasperated with the abruptness of the situation and the reasoning behind it. At the moment, Tyler hasn’t given me a reason for his sudden change of mind, and it’s making this all hurt even more than it would if he was just honest with me. “What happened to this, huh?” Pushing Tyler a step back from me, I throw up my arm and force my wrist toward his face, my hand clenched so tight that my veins are visible beneath my tattoo. “You said as long as I didn’t give up, you wouldn’t either!” I don’t care if I wake Mom and Jack. Right now, they’re the last thing on my mind. “And I haven’t given up, so why the hell have you?”
Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and his forefinger, closing his eyes and refusing to look at his very own words, the words that are etched upon my skin. It’s clear now that he no longer believes in them, and it’s even clearer that I’m an idiot for believing that he did. As I drop my hand back down, my chest heaves, and I think I might just hurl, so I clasp a hand over my mouth. I shouldn’t, though, because Tyler sees it as a prime opportunity to grasp my shoulders and quickly move me to the side. That’s exactly what he does, finally throwing open the door and making his lame departure.
But we appear to have woken Gucci, because she’s sitting out in the hall on the other side of my door, her eyes glistening, and Tyler promptly trips straight over her as though he hasn’t even noticed that she’s there. Gucci lets out a sharp cry, darting away.
“Tyler!”
“Fuck,” Tyler mutters, steadying himself. He pauses in the darkness of the hall, frowning, and then heads toward the living room. Of course, I rush after him, racking my mind for something, anything, I could say to him that might make him stay or at least reconsider what he’s doing. As he grabs his bag from the couch, I say the only words I can think of.
“Please, please, please,” I beg, my throat so dry that it’s starting to hurt when I talk. I step in front of him again, but it’s hard to get him to meet my eyes, and so I press my hands to his chest instead. “Please don’t. You’re just upset about everything that’s happened, so you’re being irrational. That’s all this is, Tyler,” I whisper as tears threaten to fall, my voice cracking. “You don’t even have a real reason for why you’re leaving like this. If you really want to get out of Santa Monica, then just come to Chicago with me. And don’t repeat yourself by saying you don’t want to be with me anymore, because I don’t believe you. How can everything be going great—I mean, we finally told everyone, Tyler! The hard part is over!—and then you suddenly decide this?”
Tyler has closed his eyes again, because it seems to be the easiest way for him to avoid looking at me. I don’t think he’s been able to look me straight in the eye since the moment he woke me up. Parting his lips, he exhales. And then he slowly shakes his head. That’s all. No reply. No further explanation. Just the weak shake of his head that makes it clear that no matter what I say, he’s still going to leave.
Reaching for my hands on his chest, he squeezes them tight and lowers them back to my sides, and I’m trying so hard not to cry that I can’t even bring myself to attempt to stop him. That’s why when he turns and walks through the dark living room toward the front door, I don’t do anything. I don’t go after him. I don’t even turn around. I only stare at the wall, my lips trembling as the tears break free anyway. I touch my throat and swallow hard, fighting back the urge to sniff. I don’t want Tyler to hear me crying, but when I hear him unlock the front door, one final wave of anger washes over me, so I’m forced to turn around.
“So we pissed off our parents for nothing? We hurt Dean for nothing?” I yell, grinding my teeth together as my cheeks dampen. Tyler pauses to listen. “All because you’re wimping out at the last second?”
“I’m not,” Tyler objects, finally deciding to talk again. He glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes pooling with an emotion I can’t quite figure out. “I just need space for a while. I’ll come back when I’m ready.”
“But I love you,” I whisper, not because I think it’ll change his mind, but because I want him to remember that when he walks out the door.
“And I need you,” Tyler breathes. It takes me by surprise, given the circumstances. It contradicts the fact that he’s claiming he doesn’t want to do this anymore, that he’s giving up. “And that’s the problem, Eden. The only reason I didn’t kick my dad’s ass earlier was because of you. Not because I knew the right thing to do was to walk away. And you know, when I was trying to get off coke, I was doing it for you and not because I had to do it to get on the tour. It’s like I need you in order to be okay, and I can’t live my life depending on you like that. I need to be able to want to do the right thing, to do it for myself and not for you, so I need some space without you for a while. I need to know that I won’t be like my dad, and as soon as I know that, I’ll come back.” His eyes are swollen, like he’s fighting back tears, and the only thing he can finish with is a pained whisper of, “I promise.”
Without explaining himself any further, he rests his head on the door frame, takes a deep breath, and then leaves. Just like that. He opens up my front door, throws me a gut-wrenching final glance, and walks out. He lets the door fall shut on its own behind him, and when I hear that awful click, it hits me even harder at that exact moment that Tyler just gave up. And I still don’t really know why.
The house is dark and silent and even slightly cold, and numbly I remain in my spot in the middle of the living room. Through the cracks in the blinds, I see Tyler’s car light up as his figure nears it. He slides into the driver’s seat, and I hear the thud of his door as he slams it shut. Then his engine. My throat tightens when I hear it growl to life. He’s really leaving, I think, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. His car pulls out onto the quiet road. And he drives away. He leaves.
My throat releases a pained whimper through my sobs as the car headlights race across the walls of the living room and then disappear. I feel so weak that I can no longer stand, so I reach around for the furniture to give myself a crutch as I move to the couch. I drop my body down onto it, pulling my legs up and holding them to my chest as I try to control my excessive trembling. I don’t know what to think.
How long is Tyler going to take to find his own willpower and strength? How long is it going to take for him to control them both? A few days? Weeks? Months? What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Put my life on pause and wait for him? Unfortunately, that can’t happen. Now I’ve got to face Dad and Ella on my own. I’ve got to deal with Dean on my own. I’ve got to handle Rachael and Tiffani on my own. Tyler has left me to deal with our mess all by myself. It was supposed to be us against the world, Tyler and me versus everyone else. Now it’s just me.
Out of nowhere, I hear Gucci’s paws on the hardwood flooring as she quietly pads over to me, still weeping a little from the pain Tyler accidentally inflicted upon her. She jumps up onto the couch, nudging my knee with her nose as though she’s concerned. It only sends a new batch of tears cascading down my cheeks. Reaching for her body, I pull her close and wrap my arms around her, burying my face into her fur. Don’t worry, I think, he hurt me too.