Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(67)
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut?” I grip the steering wheel tightly, feeling it squeak under my hands.
“Well, to be fair, you didn’t keep your mouth shut.” His voice is low and tight, and it almost sounds like an accusation. Or maybe that’s just how I’m receiving it.
“She criticizes everything I do! I think I managed to keep it together for a decent amount of time. No one should be talked to the way she talks to me. And maybe I’m a little easier going when it comes to rules, but you told Peyton she could have what she wanted, and Karen came in and criticized your parenting in front of your own parents.” I pull into the underground lot and park my car.
“I know, and I need to talk to her, but as I said, I didn’t feel a restaurant was the best location for that conversation to take place. Besides, Peyton had fries because I shared mine with her. So she got what she wanted anyway.”
Gavin is quiet in the elevator as we head up to my condo, giving me a little time to cool off, although I’m still pretty fired up. Once we’re in my apartment, I head for the fridge and grab myself one of the coolers Andrea brought the last time I had her and Belinda over. It’s been a while. Neatly coinciding with the amount of time I’ve been with Gavin. My sisters and I like to have girls’ nights in, but with London still breastfeeding and Avery preggers, that’s not going to be in the cards anytime soon.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I’m snappy, which isn’t normal for me.
“It’s only four.” He glances pointedly at the clock.
“It’s Friday and it’s been a day,” I reply and take a hefty gulp of the too-sweet liquid.
Gavin leans against the counter and sighs. “I know the way Karen has been behaving is a problem.”
I’m relieved to hear him say that; unfortunately, it feels like there’s a but at the end of that statement. “So how do we manage this? What am I supposed to do, Gavin? Walk around on eggshells? Bite my tongue? Let her undermine both of us? I don’t know what I’m allowed to say and not say. What’s my role here? It’s like she still treats me as though I’m the nanny, not your girlfriend. And if you know she’s a problem, how are we going to fix it?”
He sighs heavily and rubs his temple, like this conversation is giving him a headache. Like it’s me that’s the issue, not the woman who constantly makes me feel like shit. And honestly, Gavin’s unwillingness to stand up to her is … not the most attractive quality at the moment. “I realize I let Karen get away with a lot more than I should.”
This conversation feels like pulling teeth. Like he’s holding back. “If you realize it, why do you let it keep happening?”
He drags his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes on the floor. He shakes his head a couple of times and finally, quietly, says, “Because, Harley, I’m the reason their daughter is dead.”
I suck in a shocked breath. “I thought she died during childbirth.”
His jaw tics. “She did.” His eyes flick up to mine. There’s anger, hurt, and frustration lurking behind them. And guilt. So much guilt. “But if I’d taken their daughter to the hospital two hours earlier, when she said we should probably go, instead of needing to finish mowing the fucking lawn, then maybe she would still be here.” He swallows thickly, lip curling in disgust, and I see that under all the anger is self-loathing. “If I’d put my wife ahead of a fucking household chore, they would still have their daughter. I took her away from them.” He points to his chest, voice as hard as his eyes. “It’s my fault she’s gone. Because I didn’t take care of her when I should have. Peyton is the only link they have left to their daughter, and letting Karen mother Peyton was the only way I could see to give her back some of what I took from them when Marcie died. I get that I need boundaries, but calling her out in a public place is cruel.”
“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t realize until now that Gavin has been holding onto the blame for that for all these years. Not like this. And it reframes so much of what’s happening. When he moved to Boulder, Karen stepped in as the mother Peyton didn’t have, and when he moved back here, he took that away from her. It explains so much about the way they deal with each other, and how Karen deals with me.
I take a step forward, wanting to find a way to console him. To tell him I understand what it’s like holding on to guilt, because I did it with him for years, but he puts his hand up to stop me.
“Don’t, please. I can’t handle this. I don’t deserve pity, or understanding, or any of the things that you want to give me right now, Harley. I know that Karen is making this difficult”—he motions between us—“but my moving back here has been hard on her. She’s struggling too. To her it’s another loss. I can’t take more away from her than I already have.”
“I’m not asking you to take things away from her. I’m asking you to stand up for us and for Peyton. There has to be some kind of balance, Gavin,” I say gently.
“I took their daughter from them. I robbed Peyton of a mother. There isn’t any balance. There’s just me trying to make up for the biggest fucking mistake of my life,” he grinds out.
I realize in that moment, as much as Gavin might want us to work, he still has a lot of work to do. His guilt is a heavy chain that’s keeping him shackled to the past. “I don’t know how to help you with this,” I say honestly.