Come to Me Quietly(111)

Christopher scratched at the back of his neck and inclined his head. “Listen, Mom, I need to talk to you about something.”



Clearly, Christopher understood that, too.

The second he said “I,” I realized my brother was going to take responsibility for this, as if he thought he had somehow coerced me into allowing Jared to stay with us. Christopher still thought I was the unwilling partner in this deception, when in truth, he was the one who had unknowingly allowed Jared to become the most important person in my life.

Mom frowned. “What’s wrong?” Worried, she flicked her eyes to me, then back to Christopher. Nervous energy instantly wound her tight. She shifted on her feet.

The shower squealed as it was shut off.

Mom paused. She turned her attention inside, her eyebrows drawn tight as she looked down the hall of our apartment toward the bathroom.

Someone using our shower in itself wasn’t really such a big deal. But it was like this awareness seeped over her and she suddenly sensed the unease that radiated out from Christopher and me.

“Who’s here?” she asked, stepping into our apartment.

“Mom – ”



Jared opened the door and came out into the hall wearing only a pair of jeans, rubbing a towel over his wet head, oblivious of what he was stepping into.

The second his eyes met with Mom’s, he stopped dead.

Mom just stood there, as if lost, thrown back in time. Then a strangled sob tore from her throat and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Jared. Oh my God, Jared, is that you?”



Tears leaked down her face. It took a few seconds to pass before she seemed to snap back. Then she shot across the room, throwing her arms around him, hugging him, while he remained limp under her touch. She pulled back, frantic, as she searched his face, her hands pressing into his cheeks as if she were making sure he was really there. “It’s you… oh my God… it’s you. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”



And Mom was crying, holding on to him as if he might disappear.

From across the room, I caught the expression on his face.

And I was sure he would.



NINETEEN


Jared



Cold slipped through my veins. Pictures of her face slammed me as if she were locked in time. One by one, they struck me, battered and beat my mind, like an everlasting penalty sent to taunt my spirit.

Laughing.

Smiling.

She was always that way – smiling, laughing, loving.

She’d been beautiful.

Good.

And I’d stamped out that light. A rose trampled underfoot.

A shuddered breath burned as I drew it in, my lungs pressing against my ribs. Fire clashed with the cold, and pain pelted my insides as needles prickled along my skin. I was always ruining the good.

Now Aly’s mother, Karen Moore, clung to me as if she’d just witnessed a resurrection of the dead. All I could do was stand there wishing for a way to disappear.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block all of it out.

What it was about Karen Moore that was such a stark reminder of her, I didn’t know. Maybe it was because they had been such good friends. Maybe because she had been the other mother in my life when I was growing up. Maybe it was because she was in so many of the memories that haunted my nights, laughing and smiling, too.

As if the girl owned me by some force of attraction, my eyes sought out Aly. She still stood near the door, worry creasing every line on her face. She was wearing that expression that said she got me, that she really f*cking understood.