CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Gavin’s still not home when I get back to his place, wishing it were winter so I’d at least have a coat to cover my Walk of Shame outfit. I’m grateful Charles works the swing shift so he doesn’t witness my betrayal.
I change into dog-walking clothes, pack my camping backpack and That Bitch full of the rest of Lulu’s things and mine, strap a leash on Jasper and let him trail me to the Steens’ apartment. We dump my stuff in their guest room and take Aleah to the park.
But my heart’s not in it.
Where is Gavin? Why didn’t he show up last night?
I want him to show up with the best excuse ever. I want him to charge to the Steens’ hanging out of the moon roof of a white limo, brandishing an umbrella and roses, like the final scene in Pretty Woman.
But I’ve got nothing. Gavin’s given me nothing. And so I walk Jasper back to his apartment and plan to leave him and my house-sitting duties behind.
I’ll miss that little freak of a dog.
I’ll miss that soft blue T-shirt and the late-night chats, “my” side of Gavin’s bed, and the terrace overlooking the park.
But none of that is mine. It never was. I just got to play house for a while.
When I key into Gavin’s apartment I feel his energy even before I see or hear him. It’s like my body is tuned to his frequency.
I find him in the kitchen feeding the juicer a bunch of green vegetables I stocked in his refrigerator. He looks horrible, unshaven and greasy-haired, with a bruise ripening on his cheek.
I stop and stare, unclipping Jasper’s leash when he prompts me with a baroo. I go to the cupboard and fill Jasper’s food bowl just to have something to do.
“I owe you an apology.” Gavin’s voice is flat and lifeless.
“You do.” My head still pounds from the hangover and my stomach is queasy as I watch a thin trickle of juice pour into his cup.
“I told you I had to take care of some things. It was harder than I thought.”
“You knew where I was. You could have called my phone or the restaurant.”
Gavin frowns and keeps smashing vegetables into the chute.
I try again: “You could have spared me the hour I waited for you. And all of the stupid shit that followed.”
“I’m sorry. I know it sounds lame, but the truth is—”
“I don’t want to hear that. When someone tells me, ‘the truth is…’ I’m suspicious. It makes me wonder what part’s not the truth? I mean, are you saying this part will be the truth, but the other part—that’s bullshit?”
Gavin hangs his head and comes around the kitchen island to face me. But he doesn’t reach for me. My icy expression holds him at arm’s length.
“You owe me an explanation.” All of my self-loathing about the way I acted last night has me spitting mad at him.
“Yes. Let’s sit down.” Gavin takes his green goo and walks to the living room couches. I fill a glass of water and follow him, perching on the edge of the opposite couch.
“What were you doing last night that was so goddamn important that you stood me up?”
“Beryl. Take a breath.” Gavin’s voice rises to a command. I shrink back in surprise, but take that breath. “I’m going to tell you what happened last night but first I’m going to ask you a very important question.”
“OK.”
“Do you trust me?”
I hesitate. This is a trick question. It doesn’t feel like a yes or no answer—there are too many shades of gray.
But my hesitation is wrong—it answers for me before my words do.
“Oh, Beryl.” Gavin puts his head in his hands. “Is what we have so fragile that you can’t trust this? You were the one who brought me back from the edge. You. I trusted you with my story. I put my heart in your hands.”
I feel the wall I’d built against Gavin crumbling as I see him open to me. And I realize that as many hateful things as I concocted in my brain last night, as many ways I’d blamed him for leaving me hanging, I never stopped trusting him. I never believed he was betraying me.
Pissing me off? Definitely.
Hurting me on purpose? Never.
“I trust you. Without reason, and beyond reason. I’m angry and hurt but I don’t think you meant to hurt me,” I see his expression change and soften. “Please help me understand what happened.”
Gavin takes a huge breath and I see his shoulders slump. “That’s all I need. I need you to trust me because I trust you completely. I just couldn’t tell you about what I had to do last night until it was done.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to know the end of the story before I could tell it. I went to Lulu’s parents’ house last night. I went to apologize and thank them for her beautiful life. I had to ask forgiveness for her death. I couldn’t let it go until I admitted I’m partly responsible.”
I see Gavin’s eyes cloud with tears and I move off the opposite couch to sit next to him, lacing my fingers in his as he continues.
“Her parents didn’t even know who I was. I told them, and explained the influence Lulu had on my music, and how much I appreciated her and used her to make it great.”
Gavin trails off but I stay silent, giving him the space to finish.
“I told them the whole truth. Her dad told me he’d sue me for everything I have. Her brother punched me. And her mom cried like her heart was breaking all over again.”
“It’s not only your fault. It was Lulu’s choice. She was the addict.”
“But you know I blame myself for enabling her. And now they blame me, too. When I was on my trip, I promised myself I’d tell them what happened. And take the consequences.” He fingers his bruise from Lulu’s brother’s hand. “Then I came to find you. But when I pulled up to the restaurant, and I saw you there, in Lulu’s dress—”
“Wait. You saw me? You came?” A new wave of fury builds inside me.
“Yes, and then I kept going. I went to Tyler’s place. I couldn’t stand to see you looking like that, like Lulu was there, accusing me all over again.” Gavin’s face crumples and I wonder how many times a person can break before there’s no mending them.
Just as suddenly as my anger came, it drains and I wrap my arms around Gavin’s shoulders. I pull him close and feel his tears as they rain on my shoulders, his body wracked with silent sobs.
“We can fix this,” I whisper. I feel his body relax against mine. “We can’t change what happened with Lulu, but we can fix us. Gavin, when I met you, I thought you were reckless and irresponsible and broken.”
“I am.” His voice is hoarse and choked.
“No. You’re healing and feeling and alive. You’ve got a whole lot more in you and no amount of broken can take away your ability to keep growing.”
Gavin lifts his face to mine, searching my eyes for some answer. When he finds it, he says it out loud.
“You believe in me.”
“I do.”
“Do you believe I’m not a monster? That I never meant to hurt Lulu? That I just needed her too much?”
“I believe you’re fallible. We all are. But you’re not ruined, Gavin.”
He wraps his arms around me tightly, squeezing with an intensity that takes my breath away. When he finally releases his hold, his mouth reaches for mine, needy and raw, pulling me into the fantasy that I’ve built every day since our first contact.
I break away. “Wait.”
Gavin stills and watches me.
“I have to confess something to you. Last night, when you were at Lulu’s parents’ house, I thought you didn’t want me. And a whole lot of ugly things. And when a guy I’d dated asked if I wanted to meet up, I said yes.”
Gavin pales. “You went out last night? With someone else?”
Now it’s my turn to hang my head. “I’m an idiot. I thought you didn’t want me. I thought I had no claim on you, and you wanted no claim on me. And so I—”
“Stop. Beryl. I don’t want to hear this. If you’re with someone else, just tell me. But don’t think I’m not going to fight like hell to change your mind. To deserve you.”
“Nothing happened.”
His eyes light with hope.
“I mean, not nothing-nothing. I got wickedly drunk—which I’m still paying for this morning—and pretty much threw myself at him, but he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation. He put me to bed and didn’t touch me.”
Gavin frowns. “You ran. Just like me.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. Only my kind of running doesn’t require a passport. I feel like such an idiot.”
“You said you felt like you have no claim on me. That’s not true. You’ve got my heart in your hands and I want you—deeply, totally—as part of my life. And no one else’s.”
“You want me?”
“Yes. Beryl, you’re a gift. I’d say I want you as my girlfriend and my lover and my friend, but more than anything, I just want you. Will you be mine?”
I smile at the quaint question that’s stamped on Valentine’s Day candy hearts. But no other question makes sense.
And no other answer will do. “Yes.”
“Then as much as you are mine, I am yours, plus a million. I’ve trusted you with my home and my dog and my secrets and my shame, and now I want to trust you with my life and my love.”
I raise my chin and give Gavin an imperious grin. “Then I accept this challenge! I shall be the one for The Gavin Slater, singer of songs, moistener of panties.”
Gavin laughs loud and hard over this, pure joy pushing through his anguish. “Girlfriend, come here. We’ve got to make up for lost time.”