June, Reimagined (59)
June couldn’t meet his eye. “Years.”
“Jesus Christ, June.”
She scrambled to soften the blow. “But it’s not like he woke up one morning, gave me a call, and said, ‘Hey, June! I’m a heroin addict! Spread the word!’”
“But you knew something was wrong,” Matt pressed.
June nodded. “He never recovered after his second surgery. He was in so much pain, and the pills made him all loopy and tired. He couldn’t handle his classes, so he quit. He was supposed to go to rehab, get off the pills, and go back to school in the fall. He promised he would. But he never did.”
Matt looked as though he was retracing the past few years in his mind. “So for years you’ve been lying to me. Every time I asked about him. Every time he didn’t come home for holidays or school breaks and I wondered where he was. Every fucking time I said his name, you lied.”
“My family never talked about it! My parents refused to! They didn’t want anyone to find out. Can you imagine the rumors, the gossip? Sunningdale’s golden boy, a heroin addict. It was better just to pretend he was busy at school. We all just kept hoping he would change. Get better.”
“Jesus Christ, the funeral . . . the supposed heart condition . . . all of it bullshit.”
“I hated that funeral, but my parents—”
“Fuck your parents. Don’t blame them for this.”
“How was I supposed to tell you, Matty?”
“Do you think my dad wanted me to spill my guts to you when he got caught fucking some twenty-something on his desk? But I did.”
“It’s not that simple,” June pleaded.
“But it is that fucking simple. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you.”
Matt paced the room, collecting his toiletries and clothes. “You know the saddest part of all, June? I would have supported you. I would never have told anyone. I would have done whatever you wanted, because that’s how much I fucking love you. But you didn’t give me the chance. You robbed me of it.”
“Matty, please.” June followed him around the room, frantic to explain. “It’s why I left. I was so tired of pretending. His funeral made me sick. To sit there as if Josh had been someone different, someone else. To see all those people crying over a complete stranger. It was all so gross. I was done lying to you, to everyone. It was eating me alive. And I knew if I stayed, you’d do anything to help me, even to your own detriment. Because you’re that amazing. But I don’t deserve your help. I couldn’t let you sacrifice for me, so I left. I ran away. It felt like the only answer.”
“Bullshit!” Matt finally stopped moving. The darkness in his eyes made her step back. “That’s always your answer, June. You run. Because you’re weak! I’ll tell you the worst part. It isn’t the lies. It isn’t the lack of trust. It’s that I was expendable to you. You purposefully pushed me away. I’d seen you do it before to other people, but never to me.”
“You’re not expendable! Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Matt got right in June’s face and spoke slowly. “But it should have been impossible, June.” He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Stay in Scotland. I don’t care.” He made his way toward the door.
June tried to stop him. “Wait. Don’t go.”
“For fuck’s sake, be honest for once,” Matt said. “You don’t want me here. You haven’t this entire time.”
June fought to respond, truth and lies choking her together.
“You broke us, June,” Matt said. “Remember that.”
TWENTY-FOUR
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Thank-you cards
Dear June,
The 115 thank-you cards you owe to us are past due. Please know that showing our appreciation to donors and members benefits you most. Your scholarship comes directly from these funds.
As was stated clearly in your scholarship agreement, you are required to fulfill certain duties in order to maintain your funding. Without the completion of these tasks, the WCS board can review and revoke your scholarship at any time.
I do not want to see this happen over thank-you cards. We at WCS are sensitive to this difficult time, but we cannot continue to make exceptions for you. It wouldn’t be fair to the other scholarship recipients.
Best,
Mary Tobin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: News
Thank you for the pictures, June. Scotland looks beautiful. I hope someday Dad and I can see it in person. You have quite the eye when it comes to photography. I had forgotten that talent of yours. I’m glad you’ve revived it.
In other news, I got a job! Your old mom is the newest sales associate at Macy’s. I know what you’re thinking. Macy’s? Well, you know me. I love to talk. And the house feels too lonely most days. I don’t like being here by myself while Dad is at work, so I go to the mall. I met a woman named Hortense, who works in the shoe department. She lost her daughter, Veronica, to cancer six years ago. I pretended to try on shoes for three hours just so we could keep chatting. She said the worst part was wondering if her daughter was scared when she died. As a mother, you never want your kids to be afraid. I’ve worried about the same thing with Josh. Did he know what was happening? Did he panic and wish he could change his mind? Or did he just close his eyes and drift away?