Wide Open (26 page)

No more. "He wasn't."

Milo sucked in a quick breath and tucked his chin in to see my face as I looked up at him. His thumb rubbed across my cheekbone. "This is probably the dumbest question I'll ever ask, but how are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm awful," I answered truthfully. His face fell even further, which I didn't think was possible. "Isn't that how I'm supposed to be? Wouldn't I be a million times worse if you weren't here?"

His eyes looked hopeful. "You would?"

"Will wasn't the only person in the world I had left." The first tear of the day slid from the outside of my eye and I let it go. "You are."

He kissed my forehead and left his lips there. "I'm so sorry. Are you hungry?"

I shook my head. "No."

"You need to eat sometime, sweetheart."

"And I will. I'm going to take a shower, okay?"

He looked unsure. "Uh…okay."

He helped me from the couch and watched me go. I didn't say anything to Emma or Mason, which I know wasn't polite, but I got a pass from the couth police when a family member died, didn't I?

I tossed my clothes on the floor of my bedroom as I went through and let the water beat down on me as I sat on the tiles. I stared at the glass and wondered how a person was supposed to act. I didn't even have family to come to a funeral. Will hadn't had a job in a long time. He barely had friends from school he kept in touch with. I doubted there would be very many people there, and that in itself would break my heart.

I could imagine getting up there to give his eulogy and all I could think about was how there was no way I was doing it sober. I covered my head with my hands, but it was too late. It was in there. It had been a long time since the urge to get drunk outweighed everything else. The pit in my stomach gnawed and begged me to feed it. Just toss something in there to make the pain go away. Anything, everything.

It hadn't felt like very long when I saw Milo's face in front of mine, but in actuality, it could have been forever. "Sweetheart, please talk to me."

"What?"

He sighed. "You've been in here for almost an hour."

I looked around. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be." He swept his thumb over my cheek. "Please don't shut me out. Let me be here for you."

I looked down at myself and realized the water had been turned off and Milo had wrapped a towel around me. A gasp escaped before I could stop it. "What?"

"It's okay," he soothed and took my arms to help me stand. "Come on. You need to eat something."

"Not hungry."

He set me on the bed and went to my dresser to search for clothes.

"At this point, sweetheart, I'm not really giving you a choice." He pulled open all the wrong drawers, but I didn't help him, just let him look and watched him do it. When he opened my underwear drawer, the little hitch in his movements didn't escape my notice. He grabbed the first pair he saw on top, the bra that was next to it, and came to me. His words were spoken so softly, as if he thought I'd break from them. "I'll help you if you want me to."

I stared at his neck in my line of sight. "You've already seen me naked, haven't you? I doubt it matters now."

"I didn't look before," he replied, a little hurt by what I said. He lifted my chin. "I think if I wanted to take advantage of you like that, I could have done it last night."

I felt my bottom lip quiver, no matter how hard I tried to hold it in. "I'm sorry." I gripped his shirt front hard in my fingers. "I'm so sorry."

He cupped my cheeks gently and kissed my lips. "You're allowed to break down, baby."

I reached up on my toes to kiss him again and tasted the tears on my lips. "But I'm not allowed to be a jerk to you when you stayed with me all night."

"If it helps you get through this, you can," he said, serious.

I scoff-laughed. "No." I wiped my eyes. "Okay. I'll get dressed and then come eat something."

He looked like he wanted to stay, but nodded. "Okay." But he didn't leave. He looked at me closely, his hazel eyes on mine as he wiped away the last tear from my eye. "I love you," he said low, just for me.

It was only my second time hearing it, but it felt like I'd been hearing that in my soul my entire life from this boy. "I love you."

"Oh, my gosh," I groaned quietly as I bit into the roll and pork chop Emma had set before me when I emerged from my shower. That was almost half an hour ago, and I hadn't even realized how hungry I was until the first bite of bread and butter hit my tongue. We stood at the counter and ate together. Milo stood behind me, his arms under mine as his palms rested on the counter top. "This is so good, Emma. Thank you."

"I didn't make it." She laughed. "I wish I did." She nuzzled the baby. "But Jackson doesn't let me get anything extra done, do you, buddy? But you're welcome."

"Either way, thank you. You didn't have to come, but I appreciate it." I leaned back into Milo's chest, feeling the safe warmth there. He kissed my neck and I turned my cheek for him to kiss me there, too.

"Of course," Mason answered. "We're family."

That statement may have been an attempt to make me feel better, but it wasn't doing the trick. It actually made me feel as if bile was rising in my throat. I didn't look up at him, just kept eating. I looked over my shoulder at Milo and lifted a bite of cornbread for him. He took a small bite at first and then took my hand, going back for a bigger bite that wiped out half of my piece of cornbread. I couldn't help but let a chuckle slip through.

He laughed, too, and licked the crumbs off his lips, but the sounds of our laughs together…made me feel physically ill. He saw the change come over me, and his arms around me pulled me against him tighter. "It's all right. You can laugh. Will would want you to. It's okay, sweetheart."

I stared at the granite countertop and tried not to break down, because all I wanted to do was snatch the keys I knew were in the little blue bowl by the door, stop at the first store in town, and grab anything with alcohol, just to take the edge off the pain, just to numb the way I felt in this moment.

Emma and Mason were good at the cutting tension. I had to give them that. Every time I pulled an awkward move or silence, they were there to pick up the conversation once again.

Finally, I could take it no longer and decided to take the awkwardness into my own hands and took the baby from Emma. I almost thought she might refuse me. Jackson was only a couple weeks old, and who knew what they thought of my mental state. It was getting dark. We'd sat around my living room and kitchen all day long, eating and cleaning up, eating again and cleaning up, doing anything and everything to keep me busy and not talk about what I was inevitably going to have to talk about tomorrow—Will's funeral.

"Do you mind?" I asked and held my hands out for the baby.

"No." She smiled. "Of course not. I practically owe you this baby anyway." She laughed and stood, setting him into my arms along my chest. "He didn't even want to come until his friend Maya coaxed him out."

It was impossible not to smile down at the baby. I gasped a little at the way he looked so entirely like Mason and Milo. Even more so in the last couple weeks. Mason and Milo sat at the bar opposite each other on the stools, but I saw Milo's eyes on me every few minutes. I tried not to return his gaze, because a part of me wanted to be angry he was so worried. Like I couldn't take care of myself, but that small rational part of me knew that I was breaking down, and she was silently begging him to see me, really see me, and know that I was falling. He said he would catch me, but would he really? When he saw me falling further and further down into myself, being that girl that I used to be, the girl I hated so much but didn't know how to send away…would he still want to catch me? Would he still chase me?

I found his eyes on me once more, but he wasn't worried this time. His eyes were smiling along with his lips as he looked at his nephew in my arms. I watched him and Mason together and could hear some of their conversation as they talked. They were trying to work out their own crap. With everything that had gone on they hadn't had much time to do it. When they started in on old stories, it changed however.

I didn't want to listen to them talk about the things they used to do as kids. When Mason asked Milo if he remembered them making their mom crazy with their rap songs they used to write in middle school, or making four grilled cheese sandwiches each on Saturday mornings, or how they jumped on her bed to wake her up on Christmas morning. But it was when Mason brought up him teaching Milo how to drive—it was too much. My body moved on its own. I was done.

I handed the baby to Emma, placing little Jackson in her arms, and made my way across the living room. I guess it was obvious that the conversation had upset me because I heard Mason's curse from behind me before I shut the bathroom door. Milo was knocking a few seconds later. "Maya, baby, open up."

"I want to be alone," I heard myself say, and even I was frightened by how dead it sounded. "For a little while."

"Maya," he said louder, a little more desperate. "Please."

I steeled myself and knew there was one thing I needed right now. One thing I could get easy as pie. One thing… Just one. I straightened my face and hair and took a deep breath to compose myself. I opened the door and tried to smile. "Sorry. It's just hard to hear those stories, you know?"

His mouth fell open and he backed up to let me out, shocked that it had been that easy. "We weren't even thinking. Sorry-"

"I'm okay, just needed a minute." I took his hand. "Come on. Let's go back before things get even more awkward."

He looked at me closely, but nodded. I tugged him to the couch and immediately waved away Mason's apology. Honestly, I didn't care. It wasn't his fault my brother, who taught me how to drive, died. It wasn't anybody's. They should be able to reminisce with each other.

"So, I thought maybe looking at the photo albums might help," I suggested and beckoned everyone to the couches.

"Really?" Milo asked, concerned. "You don't have to do this now."

"No, I think it'll help." I pulled all the albums I could find from the bookshelf and plopped them on the coffee table. Jackson was in his car seat asleep, so I ticked my head for Emma to see.

"Look at this." I pointed to a picture of me with and my mom. Both of us had highlights and heels on with our Christmas dresses. Milo leaned over my shoulder and whistled. I smiled up at him. "My family used to make a really big deal about Christmas. All the holidays, really." I turned the page, biding my time, hating myself, loathing that girl I was becoming all over again, but wanting nothing more in that moment than just one thing.

I showed them several books, and it broke my heart over and over again to see Will in them. Finally, I felt like Milo had trusted me enough to think I was okay. "There was this one picture of us that… I don't see it here. Hold on, I think it's in the hall."

"Huh, look at
that
," Milo joked wryly as I walked away. I turned, looking over my shoulder for a split second, hating myself so much for ruining this with him. He smiled, holding up a picture of me and my senior prom date in front of the Chinese place he lived above. "Doomed accidental kismet? I think so."

I managed a laugh. "Did you read that in a fortune cookie?"

"Of course." He winked.

And then he turned back to the pile of pictures. Because he was waiting for me. Because he trusted me. Because why wouldn't he? Because he loved me. Because I'd told him I loved him. Because he'd take care of me and wanted to keep doing so. Because he had no reason to believe I'd betray him.

I wiped a tear that raced down my cheek and stepped quietly into my ballet flats by the door. His zip-up jacket was on the hook, so I grabbed that, too, along with my wallet and the keys, as quietly as I could. I stopped and stared at my four year coin at the bottom of the key bowl. It was always in my pocket. It was always with me. Always… I picked it up in my fingers, but immediately set it on the table, unable to look at it. I had to go.