"Steven!" she cried after me, racing down the hall behind me. She reached out and caught the sleeve of my shirt. "Please don't go. Please stay. We need to talk about this. I'm so sorry I never told you. But please, try to understand, this was ten years ago. I was foolish. I didn't-"
"Not now Allie," I growled as I put my boots on.
I left, ignoring Allie's cries for me to come back so we could talk. No talking would get rid of the rage burning in my chest.
Chapter 12
Allie
I never should have let Steven read my diary entries about his older brother, Andrew. The look on his face last night had crushed me. I knew how much I had hurt him. He hadn't even been able to look at me when he was leaving. He had slammed the door behind him and ignored me when I ran out after him.
I had hoped, in vain, that he might call me before he went to bed. I had thought there might be a chance that once he cooled down, he might be able to talk about it.
I had been wrong.
Now, I was sitting in my bed, my eyes swollen from crying for the last three hours, willing for him to call me. I knew he wouldn't.
Eventually, I decided to make the first move. I called him, holding my phone to my ear with a shaking hand, hoping he would give me a chance to explain. He didn't answer. I tried one more time fifteen minutes later to receive a worse result: my call went straight to voicemail.
I curled up and started to cry. I had ruined the best thing in my life in one painful strike. When things had finally started to look good for me, I had destroyed it. I thought of Steven's face as he read the diary.
I hadn't destroyed us. I had destroyed him.
I woke to my phone ringing a couple hours later. I had literally cried myself into a fitful sleep after not being able to sleep all night long. The call was from Andrew. I stared at the screen in shock for a moment before I answered.
"Hey Andrew," I croaked, my throat aching from sobbing.
"What the hell Allie? You told him? I thought we both agreed that we weren't ever going to say anything about it!"
"I know, I'm sorry. I had to."
"A heads up would have been nice. He just showed up at my place and threw a bloody tantrum. I thought he was going to hit me. Why did you open your mouth?"
"I'm so sorry," I said, closing my eyes and rolling onto my back. "Things have changed between Steven and me over the last little bit. We love each other. At least, I love him. I don't know how he feels now. I had to tell him. I couldn't keep the secret."
"Well, you made a mistake, Allie. He told me he never wants to see either of us again. And you know what? I believe him. He's furious."
I fought not to cry. I couldn't break down on the phone with Andrew. That wouldn't help anyone. "I can't talk with you right now Andrew, I'm sorry." I hung up the phone, threw it across the room with an angry and devastated shout, and then fell face first into my pillow where I proceeded to cry my eyes out.
What had I done? Why had I said anything?
I cried for me. I cried for Steven. Who knew where he was. He was probably as hurt by this as I was. He had been the one who was blindsided, not me. I had been the one intentionally keeping him in the dark for years. Maybe I deserved this pain.
Steven didn't.
Some twenty minutes later, once I had myself under control, I called Melissa. She answered the phone cheerfully, and then grew quiet when she heard my sniffling. "Allie?" she asked softly. "Oh no, Allie, what's the matter? What's happened?"
So I told her everything. I told her how Steven had reacted when he found out. I told her how badly I had hurt him. And I told her what Steven had said to Andrew.
"Allie, hush, it's okay. I know this is hard, but Steven needed to know. He was going to find out eventually."
"No!" I said, my voice rising. "Maybe he wouldn't have! Maybe it would have all been fine. Maybe he wouldn't hate me right now."
"Allie," Melissa said sharply. "Come on. Don't pull that on me. You know just as well as I do that this needed to be out in the open. That's why you told him in the first place. I didn't make you do anything. You know this was the right thing to do. You still know it was."
"No, I don't," I said, regressing into more sobbing.
Melissa was quiet on the other end. I could hear her breathing as she considered her next words. She was a thoughtful person, never saying anything she didn't mean, having poised control over herself. It was a skill I wished I had. Maybe I wouldn't have blown it with Steven. I would have been honest with him years ago.
Finally, Melissa started talking again.
"Allie, the wound is fresh right now. You can't be so hard on yourself. You know Steven better than you know anyone. He'll come around. He cares for you as much as you care for him. He always has. The problem is, he hasn't ever been good at accepting his feelings. I know how empty this sounds, but you have to keep your chin up. You did the right thing. That's why this is so hard."
I chewed my bottom lip as I fought with myself not to succumb to tears again. "I shouldn't have told him."
I could practically hear Melissa rolling her eyes on the other end. "Well, you did, and it's done."
"I know. And I hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him. And this is all over something that happened ten years ago. And it meant nothing! I should have kept my mouth shut like Andrew and I agreed. Now Steven thinks it's a way bigger deal than what it is. I can't believe I was so stupid."
"You weren't stupid, Allie. Telling him was right. If you love him, which you claim to, you can't lie to him. Don't you see how flawed that is?"
"It doesn't matter if it's flawed," I snapped. "What matters is that the person I care about most won't even talk to me because of something stupid I did when I was sixteen."
"Well, unfortunately, you can't control that."
She wasn't making me feel any better. Deep down I knew she was right, but I wasn't ready to hear any of it. It was too fresh. "I have to go," I said. "I'll call you tomorrow. I can't talk about this right now."
"Okay, Allie. It will all be alright. Hang in there. I love you."
"I love you too," I said before hanging up the phone and putting it on my nightstand. I sighed and rolled onto my back, clasping my hands behind my head. I stared up at the white speckled ceiling and thought about Steven.
I wondered what he was doing right now. Chances were high that he was at work. But a little part of me hoped he was lying on his own bed thinking about me; aching the same way I was.
Instantly, I hated myself for hoping he was hurting. I had done this to him. This was my fault. I had earned this heartache all on my own. Well, sort of on my own. Andrew had helped.
I glanced at my diary. The yellow spine was sticking out like it wanted me to reach for it. So I did. I pulled it free and rolled onto my stomach. After grabbing a pen from the drawer of the nightstand, I flipped through the pages to the next blank one. Then I sat, pen poised over the paper, and started writing.
Sunday, October 8th
Steven knows about Andrew. I messed up. I let him read the entries I wrote surrounding when I thought I was pregnant. He had no idea, and now he's furious with me.
I can't blame him. He was blindsided. It was his brother, after all, and his best friend who did this to him. For two whole weeks, we were positive that we were going to be parents. And I never said a word to Steven. Of course, he's hurt. And probably confused.
I'll never be able to forget his face when he read the entry. He was staring down at it like someone had come out of the page and punched him in the gut. I saw all the confusion and bewilderment morph into betrayal. Anger. Fury.
Then he was leaving. I couldn't do anything to stop him. He wouldn't even look at me. He just left.
Andrew called me and told me Steven showed up at his house furious. Steven yelled at him. He said he never wanted to see Andrew or me again.
I can't live with never seeing Steven again. I need him. I thought he needed me too. But maybe what I did was too much for him to forgive.
I don't know what to do. If he never talks to me again, I don't know how I'll be able to move on. I love him.
I've always loved him.
By the time I finished writing, I was crying again. I had hoped the entry would be therapeutic, but it only brought up more pain.
I curled in on myself and let the sobs come. They shook me until my throat was raw and my ribs ached. My eyes were puffy and swollen, and all the pressure behind them and in my sinuses brought on a terrible headache. Despite the pain, I continued crying. I cried until there were no more tears left to shed, and I was nothing but a hollow body in the fetal position on my bed.
Then I fell into a restless sleep. I woke every hour or so, remembered everything that had happened, and cried myself to sleep again.