Tristan spun around and left the room. He couldn’t continue on with Shayna. Not now. Not when his recent fears about Shayna’s ability to move on had just been realized.
He stumbled back downstairs just as he heard the garage door begin to go up. Pressing a hand to his forehead, Tristan said a prayer for strength to get through the conversation he felt he had to have with Shayna. He went to the table, sat down, and began to put his laptop into the bag.
“Hey,” Shayna said as she walked into the kitchen, still wearing the all black uniform of her job and carrying a couple of bags. “How’s Timothy doing?”
“He’s okay. He said he was tired, so he’s upstairs napping. I checked his temperature before that, and it was normal.”
Shayna leaned against the counter. “Oh, good. I’m relieved that whatever he had seems to be over.”
Tristan waited—again—to see if she’d come to him. To initiate any sort of affection. But like so many other times, he was disappointed as she began to go through the motions of making herself some tea.
“Can we talk?”
Shayna froze, her brow furrowing. “Uh, sure.”
After she brought her tea to the table, Tristan took a quick breath before he said, “Do you love me, Shay?”
Her eyes widened at his question, and she carefully lowered the mug she’d been lifting to her mouth. “What?”
“Do you love me?” Tristan asked again. “You know I love you. Do you love me?”
“I…uh…I care about you.”
Tristan swallowed against the tightness of his throat. “I know, but I was hoping we could have a future together. You know. Get married. Have more kids. But I’m starting to think that you’re not looking for the same thing.”
“It’s…I…do care about you. I want to…you know…have a future together too.” The way she stumbled over the words hit Tristan like a punch in the chest. There didn’t appear to be any conviction behind them, and that was the final straw for him.
“I can’t continue on like this,” Tristan managed to blurt out. “I need someone who is as committed to a future together as I am. I love you, but I need you to love me too. Do you think you’ll ever be able to love me?”
“Tristan, please. I care about you. So much. Please.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she made no move to get up and come to him. She just sat there, her hands tightly wrapped around her mug. “I’m…sorry.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Tristan said as he got up from the table. He grabbed the strap of his laptop bag and looped it over his shoulder. “I’ll…see you later.”
Without waiting for her to respond, Tristan headed down the stairs and let himself out of Shayna’s house. Possibly for the last time.
As he walked to his car, he was torn between wishing he’d never seen the pictures and being grateful he had before he’d gotten even more involved with her and Timothy. If that was even possible.
The pain in his heart as he drove away told him that he’d already been completely committed to a future with the two of them.
The heat from her mug burned Shayna’s palms as she gripped it, uncertain what to do. Her body was shaking and felt alternately hot and cold.
Why couldn’t she have said the words Tristan needed to hear?
These months with Tristan had made her the happiest she’d been since Lorne had died. She’d appreciated his friendship, and the times they’d spent together had been wonderful.
Tristan’s importance to her had grown exponentially over the months since they’d first met. Especially after Lisa had moved home with her mom. Had she clung to Tristan and accepted his friendship—and later his love—because she’d had no one else?
If that was the case, she knew she hadn’t been fair to him. As soon as he’d showed an interest in moving things in a more serious direction, she should have told him she wasn’t ready. And obviously she wasn’t ready if she couldn’t tell him that she loved him.
Honestly, she hadn’t focused much on her feelings for Tristan because that whole situation confused her. She didn’t know how to deal with whatever it was she was feeling for Tristan when she still felt her love for Lorne so strongly.
Shayna released the mug and lifted her hands to dry her cheeks. Her shoulders slumped as she stared down at the liquid in her mug. Pain was growing within her chest, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She wanted to have a good cry about it all, but with the possibility of Timothy waking up at any moment, she didn’t dare allow herself to do that.
Instead, she got up from the table and took her mug to the sink. She dumped her tea down the drain and put the mug in the dishwasher.
What was she supposed to do now?
Thinking that Tristan would stay for supper, she’d stopped on the way home and picked up some ground beef, planning to make spaghetti for the three of them.
Gripping the edge of the counter, Shayna stood with her head bent, trying to pull herself together. She could do this. If she had managed to go on with her life after Lorne had died, she could manage it now that Tristan had broken up with her.
After a few minutes, Shayna straightened, surprised to find that her cheeks were damp once again. Wiping them with her palms, she headed for the stairs. She stopped to check on Timothy, grateful to find him still asleep.
When she went into her room to change out of her uniform, Shayna came to a stop just inside the doorway. The light was on which was unusual since she always turned it off when she left in the morning. And then she saw the picture on her nightstand. It stood facing the doorway, not her bed like it usually did.
Suddenly everything made sense.
That picture was one of her favorites of her and Lorne, but now she was seeing it through Tristan’s eyes. She wanted to be angry that he’d invaded her privacy, but if anything, she had no one to blame but herself. The fact that she hadn’t been ready to put away those pictures and her wedding ring should have been a big clue that she wasn’t ready to embrace a serious relationship with Tristan.
Anguish squeezed the breath from her lungs as the hurt that had been on Tristan’s face earlier filled her mind. She had caused that pain. She and her desire to have stability for her and Timothy had done that.
She’d been selfish. Maybe she was as bad as Erin and Noella thought she was.
Feeling sick at the thought, Shayna gathered up a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. She stood under the spray of the shower, once again allowing her tears to flow until the water ran cold.
When she finally stepped out of the shower, Shayna felt as if she’d aged a lifetime in the hour since she’d been home. Somehow she needed to pull herself together to deal with Timothy when he woke up. No doubt he’d still expect Tristan to be there, and she’d have to figure out what to tell him.
Though Timothy had never asked specifically if she and Tristan were going to get married, she knew that he had anticipated that Tristan would be part of their lives forever. Stupidly, she’d been anticipating that as well, she just hadn’t allowed herself to think about what that meant exactly.
It wasn’t until she went to pull on the sweatshirt that she realized that it was Lorne’s. The one she pulled on when she needed comfort. It felt wrong to wear it for comfort right then. Balling it up, she darted back into her room and pulled a different sweatshirt from her drawer.
After wrapping her hair in a towel, and turning off the light, Shayna laid down on her bed, pulling a blanket over her to help drive away the cold that had enveloped her.
So many thoughts went through her mind as she lay there, but the one that seemed to repeat most often was the realization that she’d wronged Tristan. The things she’d done outwardly to prove she’d moved on hadn’t been a true reflection of where her heart had been. He had taken those things to mean something that they really hadn’t, and that was all her fault.
Maybe Lisa had been right to be upset with her over the things they’d talked about when they’d last been together.
Maybe she was a selfish, horrible person who had only been thinking about herself and Timothy. She’d known that what she felt for Tristan hadn’t been like the love she’d felt for Lorne, and she’d been okay with that. But what about Tristan? Hadn’t he deserved to have a woman who felt about him the way she had felt for Lorne? Strangely, the idea of another woman loving Tristan only intensified the ache in her heart.
It had been so wrong of her to think it was okay for Tristan to settle for something less than true love because that’s what she’d felt like she was doing. Since she couldn’t have Lorne, she’d been willing to accept something lesser with Tristan because he was nice and good for Timothy.
Timothy.
A vise tightened around her chest at the thought of her son and what this latest turn of events would mean for him. She knew Tristan meant the world to Timothy, and she really hoped that even if Tristan was putting an end to things with her, he’d still be a part of Timothy’s life. Shayna really didn’t want Timothy to suffer because of what she’d done.
“Maman?”
Shayna opened her eyes to see Timothy standing next to her bed. “Hey, sweetie.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why are you in bed?”
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I decided to lay down.” She patted the bed behind her. “Why don’t you stay here with me for a bit. Tell me how your day went, and how you’re feeling.”
He went to the end of the bed and crawled up to the pillow while she shifted over to face him. Automatically, she reached out and rested the backs of her fingers against his forehead. She was relieved to feel that his skin held none of the heat it had throughout the past day.
“Is Tristan still here?” Timothy asked. “He said he would be.”
He must have promised that before he saw the pictures in her room. “Something came up, and he had to leave.”
“Bummer. We had so much fun.”
“What did you do?”
“We watched videos on the science channels and also some tiny home videos.”
“And you’re feeling better?”
“If I say yes, I have to go to school tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, Bug. I’m sorry, but you do. I can’t miss work, especially if you’re not sick.”
“Maybe Tristan could come over again.”
Shayna swallowed hard against the emotions that wanted to rise up and overwhelm her. “Tristan has to work tomorrow too. The only reason he could help today was because he took the day off since he worked on Saturday.”
She was glad that wasn’t a lie, but something told her that if Timothy had still been sick, Tristan would have offered to help. Just like he’d done so many times since they’d first met. And she’d taken up him up on all those offers of help. But what had she done for him? Nothing. There was nothing she could do for him. Nothing she could offer him that he didn’t already have. Except for her heart, and she hadn’t been able—or willing—to give it to him.
This time the wave of emotions almost broke through, and she was glad that the room was darkened since she kept the curtains drawn most the time and the light was off. No doubt Timothy would have been able to read her distress otherwise.
“Is it supper time?” he asked as he shifted on the bed.
Shayna flipped onto her back and reached to where she’d left her phone on the nightstand. When she turned it over to read the time, she was surprised to see it was almost six o’clock.
“Are you hungry?” She certainly wasn’t, but if Timothy was, she’d happily feed him. His appetite had been non-existent all of Sunday.
“Yep. Starving.”
Shayna shifted her feet off the bed then sat up. The towel fell off her head, and her hair landed in damp strands on her shoulders. Rather than spend time brushing it out right then, she got up and went to find a scrunchy, snapping on the lamp that stood on the top of the dresser so she could see inside her top drawer.
As she stood there pulling her hair up into a messy bun, her gaze fell on the two pictures there of her and Lorne. Seeing them brought more pain than usual. For ages after Lorne’s death, looking at them would make her feel sad, but lately, they’d also brought a bit of joy as she’d begun to appreciate the memories of the happy moments that went along with those pictures.
Unfortunately, looking at them right then only brought sadness since they once again represented a loss in her life.
Turning away from them, Shayna smiled at Timothy, hoping it looked normal. “What do you want for supper?”
She hoped it wasn’t pancakes even though there were some in the freezer.
“Mac and cheese?” he asked. “With hotdogs?”
“Sure.” With a sudden rush of affection, she reached out and pulled Timothy into her arms. “Love you so much, Bug. Always remember that.”
His arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “Love you too, Maman.”
She dropped a kiss onto his messy curls then said, “Let’s go make some supper.”
Her emotions would have to wait. Right then there was a little boy who needed her, and she needed him. Their already small circle had just shrunk down to the two of them. It scared her more than a little, if she let herself dwell too much on it, to realize that she now had no support system. No safety net. From here on out, she had no one to rely on but herself.
The thought made her feel a little sick.
“Can I fry the hotdogs?”
Grateful again for the distraction, Shayna nodded and took his hand. Together they walked down the stairs to the kitchen to prepare their supper. Such as it was.
As Tristan drove to church the next Sunday, he found himself fighting a case of nerves along with the sick feeling that had been present in his stomach ever since he’d left Shayna’s the previous Monday. On top of all that was the constant ache in his chest. He wondered how long it would take before he didn’t feel it anymore. Before he went back to how he’d been before he’d fallen in love with Shayna.
The weirdest thing, though, was that while he was hurting worse than he’d ever hurt before, he also felt a sense of peace. The unsettled feelings about things with Shayna had snuck up on him, but then they’d been quickly cemented by the pictures he’d seen and their subsequent conversation.
Still, he wished that feeling at peace about it meant that the pain was gone. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he hurt the same, if not more, than he had on Monday. He’d thrown himself into his work, brushing aside everyone’s queries of concern. They’d no doubt have given him their opinions on how to proceed, but until the pain had subsided a bit, he just wasn’t interested in them.
Though he wanted to ask Maya to find someone else to take his class, he didn’t. The one thing that had weighed heavily on his heart and mind regarding the breakup was how to deal with Timothy. He didn’t want to just abandon the boy since, in reality, their friendship pre-dated his relationship with Shayna. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with Shayna just yet.
Once at the church, he made his way through the people in the vestibule area to reach the doors to the sanctuary. There was still about ten minutes until the service would begin, but they always played instrumental hymns and worship music prior to the service for those who wanted to sit and pray. That was definitely what he needed that morning.
The hush of the sanctuary embraced Tristan as the door closed behind him, blocking out the noise of the people talking in the foyer. The usher standing at the door greeted him with a smile and held out a bulletin for him. After Tristan had taken it, he headed for a pew near the back and sat down, setting his messenger bag on the seat beside him.
He looked up at the screens at the front of the sanctuary, reading the words that were being projected there.
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.
Tristan felt like he’d been praying non-stop all week for relief from the pain the break-up was causing him, and at times, he’d felt like it was consuming him. The verses on the screen were a good reminder of God’s faithfulness to him, even during this time when pain was dominating his life in a way it never had before.
He bent his head and closed his eyes, praying that God would clear his mind to hear the message He would have for him that day, and that, in turn, Tristan would be able to focus on the message he had for his Sunday School class. Including Timothy.
Thankfully, he found himself able to concentrate on the service and left for the Sunday School class feeling encouraged, although not completely sure if he was ready to face Shayna.
He’d gotten so used to Shayna bringing Timothy right to the seats so that they could say good morning, that he was surprised when the boy appeared without his mother at his side. As soon as Timothy appeared by himself, Tristan’s gaze went to the entrance to the gym.
Shayna was standing just inside the doors, and when their gazes met, Tristan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. She gave a small nod then turned and left the gym, taking every little bit of calm he’d managed to find during the service with her.
“Hey, Tristan,” Timothy said quietly, drawing Tristan’s attention from the door.
“Hey, buddy.” Tristan couldn’t help but hug the boy, and tears pricked at his eyes at the tight hug Timothy gave him in return. Somehow he needed to still be able to be there for Timothy, despite what had happened with him and Shayna. “How’re you doing?”
Timothy dropped down on the chair beside where Tristan had placed his bag. “I’m okay.”
Tristan picked his bag up and sat down, setting it on the floor. He had no idea what Shayna had told Timothy about the break-up. “School went okay?”
Timothy nodded, giving him a sideways glance before looking at the front of the gym where the worship team was taking its place. With the first strums of the guitar, Tristan knew their conversation was over for the time being.
The Sunday School hour with Timothy was reminiscent of the first few classes they’d had. Though Timothy read the verses and answered questions when asked, he didn’t voluntarily participate in any of the conversations. It wasn’t until after they’d finished singing in the gym at the end of the hour that Timothy finally said something more to him.
“Was it my fault?” he asked, his gaze lowered.
“Was what your fault?”
“Why you don’t want to be around me and Maman anymore. Because I was sick?”
Tristan immediately laid his arm around Timothy’s shoulders. “No. It had nothing to do with that at all. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out for adults to be together. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you anymore. You’re still my favorite buddy.”
Timothy looked up at him, his eyes wide and looking slightly damp. “For real?”
“For real.”
“Maman said you weren’t going to be coming around anymore.”
Tristan nodded. “That’s right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t spend some time with you still.”
“I would really like that.” His brow furrowed as his gaze dropped. “I’ve missed you this week.”
“I missed you too, buddy.” Tristan hugged him close, pressing his cheek to Timothy’s curls. “You take care of your mom, okay?”
Timothy nodded and got to his feet. “I need to go. She said she would wait outside the gym for me.”
Though Tristan understood and appreciated that she was keeping distance between them, it still hurt. “If she’s not out there, come back and find me. I’ll be right here.”
Timothy nodded his head again then gave Tristan another quick hug before walking away. Tristan kept his eye on the boy until he disappeared through the gym doors. He couldn’t see Shayna, so he stayed in his seat for a few extra minutes just in case Timothy came back, though knowing Shayna as he did, Tristan was pretty sure she would be waiting for Timothy when he walked out of the gym even if it meant she had to leave the worship service a few minutes early.
Finally convinced that Timothy wasn’t coming back, Tristan got to his feet and shouldered the strap of his bag. He glanced at his watch as he made his way out of the gym, trying to decide if he felt up to dinner at his folks’ place or not.