You and Everything After (Falling #2)(46)

“Hey,” she says back. She sounds tired, and not at all like the person she was pretending to be when she left me those messages.

“Hey,” I say again, finding a shaded area a few yards away from the gym entrance, away from the busy path of students. That old, familiar smile falling into place.

“You said that already,” she laughs. It comes out soft, her voice a little raspy, almost like she’s fighting a cold.

“I know. It’s just weird…talking to you,” I admit. My heart feels heavy. This is why I never called before. I knew it would make me feel bad, would make me…miss her.

“I know whatcha mean,” she says back, so much about the way she speaks is familiar. I miss her. I really f*cking miss her.

“How’s Jackson?” I ask, hoping her son is okay, hoping that’s not her big secret. I breathe in relief when she giggles lightly at my question.

“He’s so good,” she says, her pride shining through. I always knew she would be a good mother. She’s made for this.

“Good. I…I can’t wait to meet him,” I say, trying to find a way to broach the topic about Thanksgiving—me visiting, and why she wants me to visit.

“Me, too,” she says, the sudden distance in her voice spurring me to react.

“What’s going on, Kel?” I finally ask, unprepared for the tears that I hear my question trigger. She’s hundreds of miles away and crying, and I can’t help. It hurts that I can’t. She’s trying to muffle the sound, to hold it in. But she just can’t. “Oh, Kel bear…what’s wrong?”

Kelly was my whole entire heart for so long—it’s almost like muscle memory. The need to care for her when she’s hurting—I don’t think that will ever go away.

“It’s Jared,” she says, and I feel my muscles flex, ready to go to war over whatever she says next. “Ty, he used to—”

“Did that son of a bitch hurt you, Kel?” my other hand fisted at my mouth, my teeth biting my knuckles, trying to keep my temper in check.

“No, no…nothing like that. I promise, Ty,” she says.

“Then what is it?” I ask, still suspicious, my mind traveling a million miles per second to all of the worst possibilities—each one ending with my fist in Jared’s face.

“I think he might be using again,” she says, and everything about this conversation takes a U-turn. Using? What the f*ck?

“What do you mean?” I ask. I don’t know Jared well. Kelly met him in college. I wasn’t around to get to know him. And maybe that makes it unfair for me to judge him quickly. But I have a feeling my hunch—the one that Jared is an *—is about to be confirmed.

“He’s been clean for a long time, since way before I met him. He did drugs when he was in high school. But lately…I don’t know. He seems weird. He doesn’t come home on time, by…like…hours. And there are so many things that seem…I don’t know. Not right? Weird phone calls, strange amounts of money missing from our checking account from cash withdrawals…” she sounds frantic, and I can hear Jackson starting to cry in the background.

“Does he act…like…high or anything?” I ask.

“No. Maybe? I don’t know. He’s jumpy, and just weird. And he gets a temper—it just comes out of nowhere,” she says, stopping to hum something to Jackson, to calm him. Even her humming sounds stressed and sad.

“What was he on…before?” I know so very little about drugs. I’ve never liked them—not even the prescription kind. My mother begged me to take something for my depression, but I refused. I don’t like the idea of chemically changing my mind. It just seems dangerous.

“He took a lot of things. Pills, mostly. But at his worst, he tried meth,” she says, and I react poorly.

“Fuck, Kel? Meth? Jesus…and you married him?” I feel bad the second I finish talking, because I can hear her tears picking up again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just don’t like that he’s making you feel this way—for whatever reason.”

“I know,” she sniffles.

“Can I talk to him?” I ask, seriously considering buying a ticket to fly home tonight so I can choke the f*cker.

“No! No…he, he would just get angry that I’m talking to you about any of this,” she says. “Ty, I never said anything, but Jared…he doesn’t care for you. It’s not personal, it’s just our history.”

“Yeah, well, that goes both ways.” I’m hot now, and I don’t care to spare Jared’s feelings. “Sorry,” I throw in at the end, but only for Kelly.

“No you’re not,” she says, her voice evening out a little.

“You’re right,” I smirk. “I’m not.”

Silence starts to fill our time, and I can hear the sounds of her house in the background—the water running in the sink, her working a bottle together, getting it in her son’s mouth, and the soft sounds of a music box starting up behind her.

“I think I just needed to talk to someone, honestly. Maybe…maybe if I feel like there’s more to this—or if he starts acting weird again, more often…I don’t know. Is it okay if I call? I don’t want my parents to get involved. Not yet,” I can’t believe she’s even asking.