Chris pulls into a supermarket parking lot and triple-parks across a few spaces in the empty lot. He kills the engine and stares at me.
“I should have been there for you.”
“It would have ruined everything you had going on.”
“In April, I was touring in Asia. I didn’t have to be there. I should have been here.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt because I’m starting to feel claustrophobic in the tiny cabin of this sports car.
“I need some air.”
I throw the door open and jump out of the car. The asphalt sways beneath me and I swallow the sour vomit stinging the back of my throat. Chris arrives at my side just as the vomit comes back up and explodes out of my mouth. Some of it splashes onto the side of his beautiful car, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he holds back my ponytail and one more pocket of spew streams from my mouth.
I spit out the bitter traces still lingering on my tongue then swipe the back of my hand across my lips. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For handling this so poorly.”
His eyes soften as I lean back against the car to steady myself. “For someone who’s been through what you’ve been through, I think you’ve handled this well. But I do wish you wouldn’t close yourself off to me. Sometimes I need someone to talk to about all this stuff and you’re the only one who’ll understand. I need you, Claire.” He takes a step toward me and I hold my breath as he brushes a sweaty lock of hair away from my face. “And I know you need me too.”
His hand is warm against my cheek and it makes me want to lose myself in him. I close my eyes to attempt to block out this longing, but I still see his face. I have so many memories, though most of my memories from my first fifteen years on this Earth are painful. I didn’t really start creating happy memories until I met Chris and Jackie.
After Chris and I broke up, I saw him everywhere. When I watched a movie and saw a man kayaking, I thought of how Chris promised to take me whitewater rafting. When I opened the refrigerator at Senia’s parents’ house and saw her little sister’s Capri-Sun pouches, I thought of how Chris was addicted to those. Every time I’d lie in bed at night, I thought of how Chris would sing me to sleep. Every time I looked down at my growing belly, I saw him. Every time I listened to her heartbeat during a checkup, I heard him.
I’d gotten so used to imagining my future with Chris that every reminder of him seemed like a slap in the face. Like someone laughing and pointing at me while showing me all the beautiful things and the all-consuming love I would never have. By the time I had Abigail I was thoroughly beaten down by the memories.
Then I met Adam.
I open my eyes and Chris is watching me with that look of concern that I’ve grown accustomed to. You don’t grow up with a heroin addict for a mother without becoming very familiar with that look.
“All of this is insanity,” I whisper as I stare at his chest. “I should be able to have a conversation with you about… Abigail. I don’t know if I deserve to meet her. I think it will drive me crazy. Seems I’m more like my mother than I thought I was.”
He places his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up. “You are nothing like your mother, babe. You put Abigail’s needs before your own. You made the selfless choice, not the selfish one. Please tell me you believe that.”
I shake my head. No, I don’t believe that.
He pulls me into his arms, a place I practically lived in for four years. My home. I clutch his T-shirt in my fists, afraid I’ll collapse at any second.
“I’ll make you see it,” he whispers into my ear.
The drive back to my car is filled with an uneasy silence. I can’t stop thinking that I shouldn’t have come to the club tonight. And I can’t stop wishing I were going home with Chris, back to a time and place where things were simpler.
When he pulls up next to my car, the sidewalk is as empty as the space between us.
“Can I call you tomorrow? I’ll tell you everything Tasha and I have been discussing.”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll be in my dorm all day.”
I reach for the door handle when it dawns on me that my cell phone is about to get cut since I haven’t paid the bill. If I tell Chris, he’s going to offer to pay it for me. But if I don’t tell him, and it gets cut before he calls, he may think I’m trying to avoid him or that something bad has happened to me.
“I might not be available, though. I’ve got a paper to write for my sociology class.”
“Really? You can’t spare a few minutes to discuss the adoption?”
My leg starts bouncing with nerves as I try to think of a better lie. Finally, I sigh as I resign myself to the truth. “My phone might get cut. I have a couple of job interviews this week, but even if I get one of those I won’t get paid for another two to three weeks, which means I’m going to probably be without a phone for a while. I’ll call you from Senia’s phone tomorrow whenever I take a break from studying.”