Confess: A Novel (19 page)

Just as I begin to head toward the stairs, I hear a knock on the glass door. I don’t rush to the door. I sprint.

When I open the door, her eyes meet mine briefly before she glances nervously over her shoulder. She grabs the door and quickly slips inside, shutting it behind her.

I hate that. I hate that she’s scared to be here and scared who might have seen her walk in the door.

She doesn’t trust me.

She turns and faces me, and I hate the disappointment flooding her eyes right now.

We need to talk and I don’t want to do it right here, so I reach around her and lock the door. “Thank you for coming.”

She doesn’t respond. She waits for me to say something else.

“Will you come upstairs with me?”

She glances at the hallway over my shoulder and nods. She follows me across the studio and up to my apartment. It’s crazy how different things are between us now. Two hours ago, everything was perfect. And now . . .

It’s amazing how much distance one truth can create between two people.

I walk to the kitchen and offer her something to drink. Maybe if I pour her a drink, the conversation might last longer. There’s so much I want and need to explain to her, if she will just give me that opportunity.

She doesn’t want a drink.

She’s standing in the middle of the room and it appears as if she’s afraid to approach me. Her eyes roam around the room as if she’s never been here before. I can see the look on her face. She sees me differently now that she knows.

I quietly watch her assess the room for a while. Eventually her eyes meet mine again, and there’s a long pause before she works up the courage to ask me what she came here to find out.

“Are you an addict, Owen?”

She doesn’t skirt around the subject at all. Her straightforwardness makes me cringe, because nothing is a simple yes-or-no answer. And she doesn’t appear to want to wait around for the explanation with the way she’s eyeing the stairwell.

“If I said no, would it even make a difference for us?”

She regards me silently for several seconds, and then she shakes her head. “No.”

I had a feeling that would be her answer. And just like that, I no longer feel like explaining my side of the situation. What would be the point when my answer doesn’t matter? Telling her the truth could just further complicate things.

“Are you going to jail?” she asks. “Is that why you said you’re moving?”

I tilt the bottle and pour myself a glass of wine. I take a long, slow sip from it before answering with a nod. “Probably. It’s my first offense, so I doubt I’m away for long.”

She exhales and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she’s looking down at her feet. Her hands move to her hips and she continues to avoid eye contact with me. “I want custody of my son, Owen. They would use you against me.”

“Who’s they?”

“Lydia and Trey.” She looks up at me now. “They’ll never trust me if they know I’m involved with you in any way.”

I expected something along the lines of good-bye when she showed up here, but I didn’t expect the hurt that would come along with her words. I feel stupid for not thinking about how this would affect her. I’ve been so worried about what she would think of me when she found out, it really didn’t occur to me until just now that her relationship with her son could be jeopardized.

I pour myself another glass of wine. Probably not a good idea for her to witness me downing wine now that she knows about my arrest record.

I expect her to turn and walk out now, but she doesn’t. Instead, she takes a few slow steps toward me. “Will they let you choose rehab, instead?”

I down the second glass of wine. “I don’t need rehab.” I place the glass in the sink.

I can see the disappointment take over. I’m familiar with that look. I’ve seen it enough by now to know what it means, and I don’t like that her feelings have so quickly moved from wanting me to pitying me.

“I don’t have an issue with drugs, Auburn.” I lean forward until we’re just a foot apart. “What I have an issue with is the fact that you seem to be involved with Trey. I may be the one with the criminal record, but he’s the one you should be careful of.”

She laughs under her breath. “He’s a cop, Owen. You’re going to jail for possession. Which one of you do I trust?”

“Your instincts,” I say immediately.

She looks down at her hands, folded across the bar. She presses the pads of her thumbs against each other. “My instinct is to do what’s best for my son.”

“Exactly,” I tell her. “Which is why I said to trust your instincts.”

She looks up at me, and I can see the hurt in her eyes. I shouldn’t have brought this on her, I know that. I know exactly what she’s feeling when she looks at me. Frustration, disappointment, anger. I see it every time I look in the mirror.

I walk around the bar and take her by the wrist. I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. For a few seconds, she allows it. But then she pushes me away with an adamant shake of her head. “I can’t.”

It’s just two words, but they only mean one thing.

The end.

She turns and heads straight down the stairs.

“Auburn, wait,” I call after her.

She doesn’t wait. I reach the top of the stairs and listen as her footsteps echo across the studio. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end. I refuse to let her leave like this, because if she leaves with this feeling, it’ll be easy for her never to come back.

I immediately descend the steps and run after her. I reach her just as her hand meets the lock on the front door of the studio. I pull her hand away and spin her around, and then I press my mouth to hers.

H
e kisses me with conviction and apology and anger, and it’s somehow all wrapped up in tenderness. When our tongues meet, it’s a momentary reprieve from the reality of our good-bye. We both exhale softly, because this is exactly how a kiss should feel. My knees want to buckle from the feel of his lips against mine.

I kiss him back, even though I know this kiss won’t lead to anything. It won’t correct anything. It won’t right any of his wrongs, but I also know it could be the last time I ever feel this way, and I don’t want to deny myself that.

He wraps his arm around me, sliding one hand up my neck and into my hair. He cradles my head and it feels as if he’s attempting to memorize every aspect of the way it feels when we kiss, because he knows after we stop, that’s all he’ll have. The memory of it.

The thought of this being good-bye begins to anger me, knowing he gave me hope and then allowed Trey to strip it away with the truth.

The kiss between us quickly grows painful, and not in a physical sense. The more we kiss, the more we realize what we’re losing, and it hurts. It scares me to know that there’s a chance I’ve come across one of the few people in this world who could make me feel this way, and I already have to give it up.

I’m so tired of having to give up the only things in life I want.

He pulls back and looks me in the eyes with a pained expression. He moves his hand from the back of my head and brings it to my cheek, brushing a thumb over my bottom lip. “This already hurts.”

His mouth meets mine again, and he lands a kiss as soft as velvet against my lips. He slowly moves his head until his mouth is directly over my ear. “Is this it? Is this how it ends?”

I nod, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. But this is the end. Even if he were to change his life completely, his past choices still affect my own life.

“Sometimes we don’t get second chances, Owen. Sometimes things just end.”

He winces. “We didn’t even get a
first
chance.”

I want to tell him it’s not my fault; it’s his fault. But I know he knows that. He’s not asking me to give him another chance. He’s just upset that it’s already over.

He presses his palms against the glass door behind me, caging me in with his arms. “I’m sorry, Auburn,” he says. “You have a lot to deal with in your life, and I absolutely didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you.” He presses his lips against my forehead and then pushes off the door. He backs up two steps and nods softly. “I understand. And I’m sorry.”

I can’t take the pained look in his eyes or the acceptance in his words. I reach behind me and unlock the door, and then I turn and leave.

I hear the door close behind me, and it becomes my least favorite sound in the whole world. I bring a fist up to my heart, because I feel exactly what he explained he feels when he misses someone. And I don’t understand it, because I just met him a few weeks ago.

“There are people you meet that you get to know, and then there are people you meet that you already know.”

I don’t care how long I’ve known him. I don’t care if he lied to me. I’m going to allow myself to be sad and feel sorry for myself, because despite whatever he’s done in the past, no one has made me feel like he made me feel today. He made me feel proud of myself as a mother. Because of that, the fact that I have to say good-bye to him is worth a few tears, and I won’t allow myself to feel guilty crying about it.

I make it halfway home, and just as I’m drying the last of the tears I’ve allowed myself to shed over this good-bye, a car pulls up beside me and comes to a slow crawl. I glance at it out of the corner of my eye and immediately see that it’s a police car. I stop walking when Trey rolls the window down and leans across the seat. “Get in, Auburn.”

I don’t argue. I open the door and climb inside, and he begins to drive in the direction of my apartment. I don’t like the vibe I’m getting from him right now. I can’t tell if he’s acting like a jealous boyfriend or an overprotective brother. Technically, he’s neither of those things.

“Were you at his studio just now?”

I stare out the window and contemplate how I should answer. He’ll know I’m lying if I say no, and I need Trey to trust me. Of all the people in the world, I need both Lydia and Trey to see that everything I do, I do for AJ.

“Yes. He owed me money.”

I can hear his heavy breaths as he inhales and exhales. He eventually pulls over to the side of the street and puts the car in park. I don’t want to look directly at him, but I can see him cover his mouth with his hand, squeezing the frustration from his jaw. “I
just
told you that he was dangerous, Auburn.” He looks directly at me. “Are you stupid?”

I can only take so much. I swing the car door open, get out, and slam it shut. Before I can even take three steps, he’s standing directly in front of me.

“He’s not dangerous, Trey. He has an addiction. And there’s nothing going on between us, I just went to collect my pay for working at his studio.”

Trey studies my face, more than likely in an attempt to see if I’m lying to him. I exhale and roll my eyes. “If there was anything going on, I would have been at his studio for more than five minutes.” I push past him and begin walking toward my apartment. “Jesus, Trey. You’re acting like you have a reason to be jealous.”

He’s in front of me again, forcing me to stop. He stares down at me for several quiet seconds. “I am jealous, Auburn.”

I immediately have to swallow the lump that forms in my throat. I also continue to stare up at him, waiting for him to take back what he said, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at me with nothing but sincerity.

He’s Adam’s brother. He’s AJ’s uncle.

I can’t.

It’s Trey.

I move around him and continue walking. We’re only a block from my apartment, so it doesn’t surprise me when I hear him fall into step behind me. I continue walking, trying to process the last two hours of my life, but it’s a little difficult when my dead boyfriend’s jealous brother is stalking after me.

When I reach my door, I unlock it and turn around to face him. Trey’s eyes are like carving knives, digging into me, hollowing me out. I’m about to tell him good night when he lifts an arm and rests his hand against the door frame next to my head. “Do you ever think about it?”

I know exactly what he’s referring to, but I play ignorant. “About what?”

His eyes fall to my lips. “Us.”

Us.

Me and Trey.

I can honestly say no, I never think about it. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so instead I don’t respond at all.

“It makes sense, Auburn.”

I shake my head, almost adamantly. I don’t mean to appear so resistant, but it’s exactly how I feel. “It makes
no
sense,” I reply. “You were Adam’s brother. You’re AJ’s uncle. It would confuse him.”

Trey takes a step forward. His closeness feels different than when Owen steps toward me. Trey’s closeness feels suffocating, like I need to punch a hole in the atmosphere just to breathe.

“I love him, Auburn. I’m the only father figure your little boy has,” he says. “He’s living in my house with Mom, and if you and I were together . . .”

I immediately stand up straighter. “I hope you aren’t about to use my son as an excuse for why I should date you.” The anger in my voice surprises me, so I know it surprises Trey.

He runs a hand through his hair and looks at a loss for what to say. His gaze shifts down the hallway as he attempts his response. “Look,” he says, meeting my stare again. “I’m not trying to use him to get closer to you. I know that’s how it sounded. I’m just saying . . . it makes sense. We make sense.”

I don’t respond, because everything he’s saying has some truth to it. Lydia trusts Trey more than anyone in the world. And if Trey and I were together . . .

“Think about it,” he says, not wanting an answer from me right now. “We can start slow. See if we fit.” He pulls his hand from the frame of the door and backs away, giving me room to breathe. “We’ll talk about it Sunday night. I need to get back to work. Promise me you’ll keep your door locked?”

I nod, and I hate that I nod, because I don’t want him to think I was agreeing to all of the other things he just said.

But . . . he makes sense. He lives in the same house as AJ and Lydia, and the one thing I want is more time with my son. I’m at the point where I don’t care what it takes to get more time with AJ; I just need it. I miss him so much.