"At least we have each other, right?" I tell Charlie-boy.
He swims in circles, seemingly not even realizing that I'm here.
I feel the tears coming on like they did back at Gary's place when we were talking about Jackson. I miss him so fucking much, and I know, regardless of how many times I try to convince myself otherwise, I really wanted to give it a shot.
But I have to believe it's better this way.
33
Jackson
"You wanna go out tonight, Grumpy Bear?" Frankie asks me as we clock out of work.
"Why are you calling me that again? You stopped for a while."
"Because you're grumpy again?" he asks. "Or maybe Sad Bear. Is there a Sad Bear? If so, you're him too."
He's right. I can't find it in myself to try and deny it. I miss Derek. I miss him so much I can hardly breathe most of the time. It feels like my heart's been ground into dust. As much as I loved Steph, I never felt this pain with her.
"I'll get over it," I tell him.
"Maybe you shouldn't have to. Maybe you should do something about it."
I shake my head at him because I don't want to go there-not again. I'd been confused and worried and scared the night Zane had seen us. I hadn't known what way was up, what the best thing to do was, but then as I thought about all that shit I'd been ignoring-at the look on my son's face and remembered the times Derek mentioned not ever wanting to be a parent, not that Zane would need Derek in that role, but still, I'd realized he was right. That maybe this was inevitable from the start. We'd been there for each other and then it was time to go our separate ways.
"I'm sure he's moved on. We had fun. We fucked. End of story. He's not the type to want to settle down." But that doesn't feel true either. In the beginning he'd said he didn't want anything serious, but the more time we spent together, I know I wasn't the only one who felt the change. He was scared. I was scared. But we both felt it. We both knew our relationship had changed into something else.
It was real. I know it.
Then why the fuck haven't I done anything about it?
"Thanks for picking up this extra shift with me," I tell him.
"No problem, man. You know I'm always here for my boy." We step outside before Frankie speaks again. "Talk to him. I miss Happy Bear." He winks and then walks away.
I miss Derek.
It's been almost two weeks and that ache in my chest is still there. I've picked up extra shifts and visited my mom, steering clear of the Alzheimer's unit, waiting for the ache to lessen, but the shit isn't going away.
I lost Derek and Zane in one night. My son has refused to talk to me, asking for space and I've given it to him.
As soon as I climb into the Jeep, my cell rings. I pull it out to see Steph's name on the screen. I consider not answering but know she'll never leave me alone if I don't.
"Hey, you," she says when I answer the phone. "Zane is out with a friend tonight. Why don't you come have dinner with me? I'll make your favorite."
"Lasagna?" I ask.
"Straight from your grocer's freezer!" she teases and I can't help but smile. Part of me wants to go home but other than work or spending time with Mom, I haven't done shit since that night at Flirt and I need to get out.
"Yeah, sure. I'll head over."
We get off the phone and I make the drive to Ashwood County. It takes me close to an hour with traffic before I pull up at the familiar house Steph and I raised Zane in.
My chest squeezes my heart. I never thought I wouldn't be on speaking terms with Zane. We've always been close.
The house smells like tomatoes and basil when I step inside. Steph peeks her head out of the kitchen. "Just finished," she says before pulling a beer to her lips and taking a swig.
I meet her in the kitchen where she hands me a bottle. I open it and down the whole thing in one guzzle.
"Grab yourself another," she says, and I do.
We eat dinner and drink beer, bullshitting about things that don't matter. Afterward, I do the dishes and then we drink some more. We make our way to the living room, where we continue drinking beer like water.
I sit on the edge of the couch. Steph is sitting sideways with her feet on my lap, talking about work and classes and some guy who grunted like a gym rat when she fucked him. I love that we can talk like this. I don't know what I would do without her.
It's quiet for a few moments and the hairs on the back of my neck rise, telling me the conversation is just about to switch. She sets her beer on the coffee table, takes a deep breath, and says, "I think you're in love with him, Jackson."