All I Ask(20)

“Welcome to the club. I’m the owner.”

Then both of us are quiet as we walk at a glacial pace. I’m not in a hurry, even though the proverbial elephant is between us.

“Everything I want to say to you right now seems so trivial,” he admits.

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you?”

We both stop walking, and watch each other.

It’s apparent that we’re both dancing around what we want to say, but I don’t know that I’m fully ready to hear it all either. Once I know, I’ll have to decide how to handle it, whatever the outcome. In the past, I haven’t been known for my fantastic decision-making, but when it comes to him, I’m even worse.

I give him an out. “You never said, how did Meghan die?”

Derek’s eyes break from mine. “It was a car accident. She was running late to get Everly to cheerleading. They were arguing because Meghan was overwhelmed since she got her new job and kept forgetting everything. Including when she had to pick up Everly. I was in surgery and couldn’t get her this time.”

The tightness in my chest grows because I already know the ending. The tragic part is coming and there’s no alternate ending.

“Everly was in the car?”

He nods. “She was on her phone, apparently texting her friends about her mother being a bitch, and a car ran the red light. They hit the driver’s side, Everly was in the back passenger side.”

I gasp. “I can’t even…”

“It was horrific. I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t know how Everly walked out of that wreck.”

“How long ago?”

His eyes are filled with unshed tears. “Six months.”

“I really didn’t know,” I say as I shift closer. “I would’ve called or gone to you. Your parents never said a word.”

He nods. “I asked them not to.”

My back straightens and I eye him curiously. “Why not?”

“Because I knew you’d come. I knew that if you thought I needed you, even with me being an ass the last time we talked, that you’d be there for me. Isn’t that ridiculous? That I would rather suffer than have had you comfort me?”

There’s nothing I can say. The tears that don’t fall from his eyes descend from mine. It hurts to know that he didn’t want me there. I loved him, sure, more than I should’ve, but I would never have hurt him. I kept my mouth shut, dealt with standing beside him during that fucking wedding, and never said a word.

I struggled so he wouldn’t.

And he’d kept his wife’s death a secret.

“What did I do to you that was so wrong?” I blurt out. “What did I ever do, Derek? Because I don’t understand how thirteen years ago you could walk out, and never tell me why.”

I didn’t plan to say anything, but small talk will only go for so long. There are big issues between us, and while I wish we could pretend things didn’t happen, wish we could sweep them under the rug and ignore what happened in the past…we can’t.

I can see that he’s either not ready or can’t say what he’s thinking, and I really don’t feel like playing this game.

I muster the courage to speak first. “We need to talk about this.”

“Yeah, it probably would make things a little less awkward.” His foot carves a line in the sand, the water rushing over and flooding it. “It’s funny how things happen. You dig the hole only to have the space you thought you made fill right back up.”

I stay quiet because I’m not sure if this is going to relate back to us or if he’s just talking.

Derek continues after a moment. “You can’t stop it or control any of it, it just…happens. Which is sort of how I feel about the way things went down with us.”

“You couldn’t stop it?” I ask.

“I couldn’t control it.”

I shake my head while releasing a heavy breath. “You’re talking in riddles.”

“Meghan.”

The single word hangs out there.

“Meghan?”

Derek takes a step back, allowing more space between us, and although he’s only moved a few inches it feels like miles to me. He takes a deep breath.

“Meghan found my journal.”





Chapter Eleven





Derek




Twenty-two years old



“We’ve only been married two months, Derek! How can you be so unhappy?” Meghan asks with tears streaming down her face.

I wish I could tell her the truth, but that would be intentionally cruel.

Meghan hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been a great wife and she was a good girlfriend. We’ve had our spats and arguments—mostly over Teagan—but we’ve found a way through it.

But the last two months have been hard. I’m trying to be a good husband, give her the support she needs, especially since she’s four months pregnant, and yet…I’m failing.

I’m torn between driving up to see Teagan and being here for Meghan.

Because ever since I found out Teagan was pregnant, I realized: I’m madly in love with her.

Since the night it hit me, three days after my wedding when I was staring at my new wife, wishing she was Teagan, I can’t look at myself. I hate myself more than I can express. I married Meghan in spite of what I thought I felt for Teagan. I love Meghan, but there was this moment when I was looking at Teagan, wishing it was my child she was carrying.