Regretting You(98)

It’s as if all the romance novels I’ve ever read have turned into dystopian fantasies. My whole life, I thought I had these great examples of love and family and humanity around me, but it was all bullshit. The love I thought my father had for my mother was a lie. And the thing that bothers me the most about it is that half of me is made up of him.

Does that mean I’m capable of being the kind of human he was? The kind to betray your spouse and child while plastering a loving smile on your face for so many years?

I hear the door to the theater open. Miller walks over to me and then leans down to kiss me. I pull away. I don’t feel like a kiss right now. Or maybe I don’t feel like I deserve a kiss right now. Whatever this is I feel for him, it worries me that it’s nothing more than manufactured signals from my brain that’ll eventually fade.

Miller steps over me and sits down in the seat to my right. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “But you will. I will. Everyone does. Everyone fucks up.”

“Hey,” he says, touching my cheek, pulling my teary eyes to his. “What happened?”

“My father had an affair with Aunt Jenny. Elijah is his. Not Jonah’s.”

My confession stuns him. He drops his hand and falls against his seat. “Shit.”

It felt weird, saying it out loud.

“Does Jonah know?”

“He didn’t know until after the wreck.”

Miller lifts an arm and slips it behind me, despite my earlier hesitance to let him kiss me. He begins to gently rub my back. I lean into him, even though right now, I’m convinced that love is stupid and I’ll probably break his heart someday.

I shake my head, still in disbelief as I think about it all. “I idolized my dad. I thought he was perfect. And her. She was my best friend.”

Miller kisses me on top of the head. “How’s your mother taking it?”

I don’t know how to answer that, because looking back on it, I don’t know how my mother even got out of bed after finding something like this out. For the first time since the wreck, I feel this ache for her—for what she went through. What she’s still going through. “I have no idea how she’s still functioning.”

It kind of even makes sense now that she and Jonah would lean on each other through this. They had to. They were the only ones who knew, so who else could she have talked to about it besides Jonah?

We’re quiet for a while. I’m trying to work through it. I think Miller is just giving me time to process everything. I don’t expect him to give me advice. That’s not why I’m here. I just needed to be near him. I wanted his arms around me.

It reminds me of all the times growing up, how my father would always comfort my mother. She didn’t need it a lot, but sometimes I would see him holding her while she was upset.

Now I realize it was all fake. All those looks of concern he gave her—they weren’t real. He was sleeping with her sister. How could he pretend to love her while doing something so incredibly vicious?

I trusted him more than I’ve ever trusted any man in the world. It makes me doubt everything. Everyone. Myself. Maybe even Miller. I don’t even know what Miller’s intentions actually were in the beginning.

I face him. “Would you have cheated on Shelby with me?”

He looks thrown off by my question. “No. Why?”

“That day in your truck. I thought maybe you wanted to.”

Miller sighs heavily with a look of guilt on his face. “I was confused, Clara. I wanted to talk to you, but when you got in the truck with me, I didn’t like how I was feeling. I wouldn’t have cheated on her, but I can’t say that I didn’t have the urge.”

“Do you still talk to her?”

He shakes his head, but the shake of his head is coupled with an eye roll. He looks like he’s growing frustrated with me. It slams me right in the chest. Every time I’m angry, I find myself involving him somehow. I’d almost rather him break up with me than lose respect for me, but if I keep behaving this way, that’s exactly what will happen.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “All of this is messing with my head, and I don’t know who to be mad at.”

Miller brings my hand to his mouth. He kisses the back of it, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Remember when you thought I was epic?” I laugh at that. How could anyone think I’m epic?

“I still think you’re epic,” he says. “Frustratingly epic.”

“Or epically frustrating. You started dating me at the absolute worst moment of my life. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all this shit.”

He lifts his hand and gently cups my face. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all this shit.”

Sometimes when he says things to me, his words feel like they reach me through my chest rather than through my ears. I love that he’s so understanding. So patient. I don’t know where he gets it from, but maybe the more I’m around him, the more I’ll become like him. “Imagine how great we’ll be when I’m finally emotionally stable.”

He pulls me into a hug. “You’re great now, Clara. Damn near perfect.”

“Near?”

“I’d say a nine out of ten.”

“What’s the reason for the one-point deduction?”