Ugly Love: A Novel(64)

Miles begins to shake his head as soon as a smile appears on his face.

Corbin starts to laugh, but he groans at the same time, indicating that he just came to terms with our arrangement, even though he still may not agree with it.

I smile and walk quietly out of the apartment, hoping they’re about to mend whatever was broken between them when I stepped into the picture.

The elevator doors open on the lobby level, and I’m prepared to step off, but Cap is poised in front of them as if he’s about to step on.

“You coming for me?” he asks.

I nod and point upward. “Corbin and Miles are working things out upstairs. I was giving them a minute.”

Cap steps into the elevator and presses the button for the twentieth floor. “Well, I suppose you can walk me home,” he says. He grabs the bars behind him for support. I stand next to him and lean against the wall behind me.

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?”

He gives me the all clear with a nod. “I love being asked them as much as I love asking them.”

I look down at my shoes, crossing one foot over the other. “What do you think would make a man never want to experience love again?”

Cap doesn’t answer my question for at least five floors. I eventually look at him, and he’s looking right at me, his eyes narrowed, producing even more wrinkles between them. “I suppose if a man lived through the ugliest side of love, he might never want to experience it again.”

I contemplate his answer, but it doesn’t help much. I don’t see how love could get ugly enough for a person to just shut himself off from it completely.

The elevator doors open to the twentieth floor, and I let him step off first. I walk with him to his apartment door and wait for him to open it. “Tate,” he says. He’s facing his door, and he doesn’t turn around to finish his sentence. “Sometimes a man’s spirit just ain’t strong enough to withstand the ghosts from his past.” He opens his apartment door and walks inside. “Maybe that boy just lost his spirit somewhere along the way.” He closes his door and leaves me attempting to decipher even more confusion.





chapter twenty-six


MILES


Six years earlier

My room is Rachel’s now. Rachel’s room is my room.

We graduated. We moved in together. We’re in college now.

See? We’ve got this.

Ian brings in the last of the boxes from the car. “Where do you want this one?” he asks.

“What is it?” Rachel asks him.

He tells her it looks like a box full of her bras and underwear. She laughs and tells him to set it next to my dresser. Ian does.

Ian likes Rachel. Ian likes that she’s not holding me back. Ian likes that she wants me to get my degree and finish flight school.

Rachel wants me to be happy. I tell Rachel I’ll be happy as long as I have her.

She tells me, “Then you’ll always be happy.”

My dad still hates me. My dad doesn’t want to hate me. They’re trying to accept it, but it’s hard. It’s hard for everyone.

Rachel doesn’t care what everyone thinks. She only cares what I think, and I only think about Rachel.

I’m learning that no matter how difficult a situation is, people learn how to adapt to it. My dad and her mom may not approve, but they’ll adapt.

Rachel may not be ready to be a mom, and I may not be ready to be a dad, but we’re adapting.

It’s what has to happen. If people want peace within themselves, it’s necessary.

Vital, even.

???

“Miles.”

I love my name when it comes out of her mouth. She doesn’t waste it. She only says it when she needs something. She only says it when it needs to be said.

“Miles.”

She said it twice.

She must really need something.

I roll over, and she’s sitting up in bed. She looks at me, wide-eyed.

“Miles.” Three times. “Miles.” Four. “It hurts.”

Shit.

I jump out of bed and grab our bag. I help Rachel change clothes. I help her to the car.

She’s scared.

I might be more scared than she is.

I hold her hand while we drive. I tell her to breathe. I don’t know why I tell her this. Of course, she knows to breathe.

I don’t know what else to tell her.

I feel helpless.

Maybe she wants her mom.

“Do you want me to call them?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says. “After.”

She just wants it to be us. I like this. I just want it to be us, too.

A nurse helps her out of the car. They take us to a room. I get Rachel whatever she needs.

“Do you need ice?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want a cold rag?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want me to turn off the TV?”

I turn it off.

“Do you want another blanket, Rachel? You look cold.”

I don’t get her a blanket. She’s not cold.

“Do you want more ice?”

She doesn’t want more ice.

She wants me to shut up.

I shut up.

“Give me your hand, Miles.”