The Air He Breathes (Elements, #1)(72)
“So each day, I grew jealous. Each day I wanted you to want me. I wanted your laughs, your smiles, you. I wanted you, Liz. So, I tried to rip Tristan and you apart. I know it was a shitty thing to do, and I know I cannot begin to ask for you to forgive me but…” He sighed and laced his fingers with mine. “I just love you so damn much and I’m not sure if my heart can take not having you.”
His fingers were linked with mine, but instead of the warmth that Steven had always brought me, instead of the tenderness that Tristan supplied my way, I only felt coldness. Holding Tanner’s hand made me feel more alone than ever.
“You deliberately broke us up,” I said flabbergasted. I dropped his hold on me and then ran my hands through my hair. “You literally interfered in my life, in my choices, because you love me?”
“He’s not right for you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“He would’ve hurt you. He’s a monster, I know he is. And look at what happened at the first sign of trouble, he disappeared. I wouldn’t leave you, Liz. I would fight for you.”
“Maybe you should, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should what? Maybe I should fight for you? I will, I promise you, I will.”
“No.” I crossed my arms, standing tall. “Maybe you should leave.”
“Lizzie…”
“Don’t,” I hissed, my voice stinging his ears. “Don’t call me that. You’re insane if you think I would want anything to do with you. When you love someone, you don’t go out of your way to hurt them. When you truly love someone, you want their happiness more than your own. Tristan isn’t the monster, Tanner. You’re the one people should be worried about. You’re sick. Delusional. Now, leave me alone. Don’t come back to my house. If you see me in town, look the other way. Because I truly want nothing to do with you.”
“You don’t mean that.” His body was shaking, and all the color drained from his face. I began to walk up my porch steps, still listening to his shouts. “You don’t mean that, Liz! You’re mad, but we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, right?”
Once my feet hit the inside of the house, I slammed the door, and leaned against it. My heart was pounding against my ribcage, and I continued to listen to Tanner yelling outside about how we would figure things out—how we would be okay.
But we wouldn’t.
The only way I would be okay was if I never saw his face again.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Tristan
Weeks passed after I left Meadows Creek, followed by months. I spent most of my time in my parents’ backyard, chopping wood and carving into it. I built things with my hands because building felt like the only thing I had left of myself.
When May came around, I was still thinking of Elizabeth. I was still missing Emma. I was still learning how to say goodbye to Jamie. I still wanted Charlie back. I hadn’t known it was possible to lose my world twice in such a short period of time.
“Tristan,” Mom said, stepping onto her back porch. “You want to come in for dinner?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
She frowned. “Okay.”
My hand rested against the axe in my grip, and I lowered my head. “Actually, I think I’ll eat.”
The level of excitement that overtook her almost made me smile. Even though I knew I wasn’t anywhere near hungry, the joy it brought to her made me want to stuff my face. Mom had been through so much since the accident. I couldn’t imagine the amount of blame she probably placed on herself, the number of daily struggles she dealt with from knowing she had been behind the steering wheel, and I hadn’t made it any easier for her.
The least I could do was sit down and have dinner with her and Dad.
“Are you thinking of selling the house in Meadows Creek?” Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Probably. I’ll start all of that stuff next week or something.”
“If you need any help, let me know. I don’t know much about selling a house, but I can Google better than most people my age,” he joked.
I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When I glanced up, I saw Mom staring my way with that same frown she’d worn outside. I shifted in my seat. “Dinner’s great,” I said, complimenting her skills.
She kept looking sad. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?” I questioned, rubbing the back of my neck.
“You’re just… What happened to you? You seem so heartbroken.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.”
Dad cleared his throat and gave Mom a stern look. “Come on, Mary. Give him time.”
“I know, I know. It’s just, I’m a mother, and the worst feeling in the world is knowing your child is hurting and you can’t fix that hurt.”
I reached out across the table and gripped her hand in mine. “I’m not okay. But I’ll get there.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Promise.”
I hadn’t stopped by the cemetery since I’d returned to town. I spent a few too many hours in my car, trying my best to figure out what I was supposed to do with my life. How I was supposed to move forward. When I found myself sitting parked in front of the cemetery, I felt my stomach tighten into knots. It took everything in me to get out of the car and walk.