Beck gave me a small smile but that darkness in his eyes hadn’t dissipated. “We could try it, and it could all work out. But there’s a fifty percent chance that it won’t, and she means too much to me to risk losing her.”
“Beck, we’re not talking about a small thing here—we’re talking about you giving up your career,” I reminded him, feeling more than a little overwhelmed for him.
He raised his eyebrows. “Right,” he agreed. “It’s called sacrifice or compromise or whatever you want to name it. It boils down to one thing—what we’re willing to give up for the people we love. I thought you of all people would understand, Charley. You gave up the academy for your parents. And I get it, I do. They are what matters. What’s the point in the memories I’ll have of touring if at the end of my life, Claudia isn’t by my side? What’s the point if the person I love the most never made enough memories with me to make me feel okay about my life coming to an end? My dad had no one in the end. I don’t want that to be my story too. You understand that, right?
“You’ve put the academy on the back burner because you know that you being a cop could potentially make your parents’ lives worse. And you love them so if they’re not happy, you’re not happy. Other people can say whatever the fuck they want. They can say there has to be a line, that you have to chase your dreams, other people be damned.” He slumped against the wall. “But I get it.”
“You do?” I whispered.
“Yeah. The people we love are one of our dreams too. Sometimes you just can’t chase them all. So you’ve got to choose.” He shot me a sad smile. “A guitar won’t keep me warm at night, so something’s got to give.”
I slumped against the wall too. I was confused for Beck, worried for him, but at the same time, I got him and he got me. I suddenly didn’t feel so bad about putting a halt to the whole police academy thing. “They never told us it would be like this,” I grumbled.
“What?”
“Adulthood.”
Beck sighed. “Nope. They certainly did not.”
20
West Labayelle, April 2014
“Do you still believe that something awful will happen to your sister if you were to resume a relationship with Jake?” Dr. Bremner asked.
I shook my head firmly. “No. I think you were right to begin with. I think that the anxiety I was feeling over the breakdown of my relationship with Andie and my parents’ disapproval amplified that fear that if I broke my grief-stricken pact, Andie would pay for it. It’s taken me a while but the stifling weight is gone.”
“But you still have moments where it affects you?”
“When I think about my future and whether Jake is a part of that future, I won’t lie. The thought flits across my mind, but I squash it with rationality. It’s like a little mantra. I give myself a talking-to.”
Dr. Bremner nodded. “That’s excellent progress.” She shut her notepad. “So what about Jake? Do you think you’re ready to face him and make a decision about your relationship?”
My uncertainty took hold as it always did when thinking about that. “Jake told me that he thought we needed a chance to start over without our past clinging to us. I’m still not sure that’s true. We failed to trust one another in times when we really needed each other most. I’m not sure what that says about us as a couple.”
“So you don’t agree with Jake that circumstances interfered? You don’t think he’s right when he said that if your parents and Andie hadn’t been so disapproving of your relationship, he would’ve been by your side through your sister’s accident and through all the issues you’ve been dealing with these last few months?”
“I think he would’ve wanted to be.”
“The question is would you have wanted him to be?”
“Well, yeah, he was my boyfriend.”
Dr. Bremner smiled softly. “Then wouldn’t that make Jake right?”
“Okay, now you’re just confusing me.”
I’d been thinking about Jake constantly, now that everything else seemed to be falling into place. It was time to work out the best thing to do. My conversations with Dr. Bremner would probably be moving along a lot faster if my true feelings weren’t so inhibited by the memory of both Jake and my actions since we’d met at Alex’s party all those years ago.
I had to decide whether I could forgive the folly of our youth and bet all my money on the wisdom of our experiences in the hopes that third time around, we’d do it right.
But all my hedging was brought to a halt by Jake’s last email.
Charley,
I can’t write you anymore. One way or another, we have to move on. I thought these emails were the best way to keep you in my life, but they started to feel empty weeks ago.
I just want us both to be happy, and we’re not going to find that in these emails.
I miss you. I miss you so much, it kills me.
But I can’t go on that way forever. There will never be a day that passes that I won’t miss you, but I know that I have to get back to the days where the pain is dulled enough I can live with it.
I told you to find yourself and when you were done to come find me.
Well, you found yourself and I’m guessing I’m no longer a part of that equation, and that’s okay. All right, it’s not okay, but I understand.
I guess I’ll see you at Claudia and Beck’s wedding in a few years. By then I think we might be able to share a smile, maybe even a drink, without it hurting like fuck.
Don’t write back.
Just be happy.
Jake
There was no way to get that email out of my head. I had the words memorized.
They broke my heart.
“What’s with the sad face?” Beck said as he walked in, Claudia on his heels. I looked up from the kitchen counter where I’d been standing, staring off as I replayed Jake’s email over and over in my mind.
Seeing Beck was a constant reminder of his best friend.
“Uh, this?” I pointed to my face as I threw him a fake grin. “You’ve got your emoticons upside down, mister.”
Beck smirked at Claudia. “Do you think we could make money off her smart-assery? Put her in a sideshow?”
Claudia frowned at me in concern. “Are you still killing yourself over Jake’s email?”
Beck’s face immediately closed down at the mention of his best friend. Although we were friends, and our talk outside The Brewhouse had definitely strengthened that friendship, it didn’t mean Beck was any happier with me regarding Jake. However, it was something he didn’t push me on, just like I didn’t push him to talk to Claudia about his future with the band. He was still musing over what he would do.
Still, I didn’t want Beck to think I was a total bitch, and I didn’t want Jake to, either. I got the impression from his email that he might be starting to hate me for real. It occurred to me—if I was honest with Beck, then perhaps that honesty might find its way back to Jake.