American Bad Boy(49)

“No, you weren’t bad to me. You did hurt me, yes.” I admit, fresh tears sting my eyes as if the wound of him choosing his country over me happened yesterday. I guess it’s more like a burn than a wound. A burn that looks alright on the surface but keeps destroying the layers of skin underneath. A burn that radiates pain deep inside, long after it should have healed.

“So you got back at me by keeping Chris from me?” his voice wavers, he still won’t face me. I hate talking to the back of his head, but I understand if he can’t look at me right now. I hug my knees tighter to my body, desperate to feel Mack’s arms around me. I wonder if I ever will again.

“No, it had nothing to do with that!” I can’t believe he’d accuse me of keeping Chris out of his life because I had hurt feelings. What does he think of me? “Yes, I was hurt. Yes, I was angry. But I never kept it from you because of how you decided to leave. Let me remind you, it was you who decided to walk away and leave me here while you went off to pursue your dreams, Mack.” My tone has a razor’s edge.

“Lauren, I was doing what I thought was right. You remember how Ben died. What was I supposed to do, forget about the one thing that I cared about and stay here just because you didn’t like my decision?” He finally turns to face me and I wish he’d turn back around. His eyes flash with anger, but under the anger I can see the betrayal he’s feeling tossing around on the ocean blue storm of his eyes.

“I thought I was the one thing you cared about,” I whisper, I feel like I swallowed a rock.

“You know what I mean,” he snaps.

“No, I don’t. And I certainly didn’t then. Do you remember what you told me on prom night? How it was the perfect time for you to get into West Point because you had to be a certain age and couldn’t be married and …”

“I couldn’t have kids,” he finishes my sentence. The anger fades from his eyes as he stares down at the floor.

“Exactly. I didn’t keep Chris from you because you left me for West Point. It wasn’t some kind of revenge, Mack. I kept him from you because I knew how much West Point meant to you. I knew you would come back and look after us, but that you’d always be full of regret. You’d never get the chance to go again. Ever. I didn’t want us to be a weight around your neck.” I confess.

“You shouldn’t have made that decision for me,” his voice is flat. Defeated. My heart squeezes in my chest thinking that I did this to him.

“You’re right. I was young and stupid. I never should have let you go, either. I should’ve tried to make it work when you said you wanted to do the long distance thing. I admit I wasn’t a genius at eighteen.”

“And what about in your twenties? What about after I graduated? You still never looked me up?” He meets my eyes and I see a flash of lightening on the stormy seas of his crystal blues.

“You’re right. I met Joel in college and we ended up married. I guess after that I didn’t think about contacting you as much. I figured it would just make everything even more complicated. You never came back to Colorado, so I never knew if you got married or had other kids or anything. I guess I just thought it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.” I leave out how I still agonized about it for years. How many nights I searched for him on Facebook. How many times I tried to find his e-mail address.

“This is so fucked up, Lauren. I mean, how did any of this happen anyway? Didn’t you tell me you were on the pill then too?” Mack paces back and forth in front of my couch. I hold my hand out to him and he looks down at it like I’m holding up a foreign food.

“Please, Mack, sit down with me.” I plead.

He looks at me and grasps my hand. My heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings with hope.

“Ok.” He settles back onto the couch and looks over at me. I can see the suspicion coursing through his veins, but at least he’s giving me the chance to talk.

“Thank you,” I breathe deep, feeling like I’m taking in the first breath after a deep dive. “You’re right, I was on the pill. I mean, you remember how diligent I was with it. I had a timer on my cellphone and everything.”

“I remember.” His jaw is tight.

“I don’t know if you remember that about a week before prom I got an ear infection?” I look into his eyes but I don’t see a flash of recognition. “Anyway, the doctor gave me a string of antibiotics and I didn’t realize back then that it makes your birth control not work that great. At least it did for me. So, yeah, Chris happened. Not that I would trade him for the world.” My mother’s guilt sweeps over me; all this talk about our son like he’s a mistake isn’t sitting well on my heart.