The Last Letter(108)

The fact that I’d now lived somewhere long enough to recognize there was such a thing as tourist season was a revelation.

“Hailey.”

“Okay, want me to run you by the main house?” I looked in the rearview mirror, but he was staring out the window. “Colt?”

“I don’t care.”

I’d never had three words cut me that quickly before. Of course he was mad at me. He had every right to be. “Well, I left your mom a message that if she didn’t call me back, I’d take you to my house. Is that cool? Or would you rather go to Hailey?”

This was a catch-22, and I knew it. More than anything, I wanted a few hours with him. I needed to know how he was, what was new in his life, if he’d made the spring league soccer team. I missed the twins just as much as I missed Ella. But I also knew this was against Ella’s wishes, and I couldn’t just steal these hours.

“How far away do you live?” he asked, still watching the scenery go by. “I can’t get on a plane or anything. Mom would be really mad.”

My heart lurched. “Bud, I still live in Telluride—”

“You do? I just thought…” He shook his head. “I guess we can go to your house, that way you didn’t lie to my mom. She gets really mad if you lie.”

I knew Ella was the kind of mom who wouldn’t go into that much detail of why we weren’t together anymore, but those words hit home just the same. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Hailey’s working, and the sub cook doesn’t like kids around. Ada doesn’t like her, anyway. And if it’s okay, I’d really like to see Havoc.” His tone was flat, as if he’d been deciding between broccoli and cauliflower on his plate.

“Yeah. She’d like that, too. So would I. I miss you, buddy.”

“Okay.” He scoffed.

“I do, Colt.”

He didn’t respond, and continued the silent treatment until we pulled onto the dirt road that began just on the edge of the Solitude property.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“My house.”

He leaned toward the window, checking out the property. “You live back here?”

“I do.” We pulled into the small clearing where the house was built, and Colt’s head swiveled.

“You live on the other side of the lake?”

“Yep. Pretty cool, right?” I pulled into the garage and killed the engine.

“Sure.” Colt grabbed his backpack and was to the house before I was.

I opened the door, and he flew inside, dropping to his knees where the mudroom met the kitchen and throwing his arms around Havoc.

She whined, her tail thumping on the floor as she laid her head on his shoulder, then the other. “I know. I missed you, too, girl,” Colt said, rubbing behind her ears. “It’s okay.”

I don’t know who was killing me more at the moment: Colt with his soft words or Havoc with her whines. She’d been the same way when Maisie came home from mega-chemo in December.

“I’ve got ice cream in the freezer,” I offered.

“Nah. I’m good. Let’s play!” He ditched his bag after grabbing his jacket, and Havoc led him out the front door, her Kong already in her mouth.

I followed and sat on the front porch steps as Colt threw the toy on the shore of the lake. He was only thirty feet away, but man, he’d frozen me out so efficiently that it felt like miles.

After a few minutes, I walked toward them.

“You like it?” I asked.

“You can’t see my house from here,” he said with another shrug.

“Nope, it’s behind the island.”

“Is that why you forgot about me?” He flung the ball down the shore.

Yeah, I wasn’t going to survive a few hours with him at this rate. Ella would find me dead, Colt holding the shredded remains of my heart.

“I never forgot you, Colt. That would be impossible.”

Havoc brought him the Kong, and he threw it harder, the motion more anger than exercise. “Yeah, right.”

“Colt.” I dropped to my knees and turned him toward me, then took a huge breath to steady myself. He had twin tear tracks down his cheeks. “I did not forget you.”

“Then why haven’t you seen us? One day I went to school, and when I came home, Mom said you guys weren’t friends anymore, and that was it.”

“Bud, it’s complicated.” I put my hands on his shoulders.

“That’s what grown-ups say when they don’t want to explain stuff.” He blinked, and another set of angry tears dropped.

“You know what? You’re right. Relationships between grown-ups are really hard to explain, but I’ll try. I messed up. You got that? Not your mom. This isn’t her fault, it’s mine. And I messed up so big that we broke up.”

“But you didn’t break up with me!” he shouted. “Or Maisie! You just disappeared! And when I snuck out to see you, you were already gone. You left without a goodbye, or a reason.”

“I’m right here,” I promised, my throat tightening, nearly choking my words.

“But I didn’t know that! You said you loved me and that we were friends. Friends don’t do that.”

“You’re right. Colt, I’m so sorry.” I put every ounce of emotion I had into my words, hoping he’d realize how true they were. “I have missed you every single day. There hasn’t been a minute when I haven’t wanted to see you, or talk to you. What happened between your mom and me doesn’t mean that I don’t love you and Maisie. It’s just…” Why weren’t there words for this? Why couldn’t I explain things to him without placing blame on Ella? It wasn’t her fault. It was mine.