Till Summer Do Us Part(121)

“It is. It’s really fucking hard, Mika. This entire situation is hard. Losing our dad when we were in high school and college. Our mom having to raise us, keep a smile on her face like everything was okay while her husband was slowly dying. The entire situation was fucking awful. But I think we need to find some forgiveness. And I know that’s something you’re working on, and I’m proud of you for it.”

“Yeah.” He tugs on his hair. “It’s been harder than I expected.”

“And that’s okay—everyone goes at their own pace—but I need to know that you’re working your way in that direction.”

“Why?” he asks, seeming confused. “Why do you need to know?”

I let out a breath and prepare myself, because this is going to be the hardest part of this conversation. “Because I need to know that you’re going to be okay. I can’t…I can’t lose you, Mika. I’ve lost a piece of Mom. I’ve lost Dad. You’re all I have left, and I can’t fathom the thought of losing you as well.”

“Wilder, I’m fine—”

“No, don’t do that,” I say with a stern voice. “Don’t bullshit me. Don’t tell me you’re fine just to say it. Look at me, and tell me how you’re really fucking doing.”

He blows out a heavy breath and stares out past my shoulder for a few seconds before he brings his gaze to mine. “I’m doing better. I am. It’s been small steps, but I’m doing better.”

A hint of relief washes through me.

“I think when I was in that dark time of my life, I didn’t find much hope in anything, but now that I’m in therapy, now that I’m working on myself, I’m finding joy in simpler things.”

“Really?” I ask. “Don’t lie to me just to appease me.”

“I mean it. Really.” He sits up. “I’ve been making changes in my life, changes to adjust my trajectory.”

“Like what?” I ask, surprised by this.

“Well, I started taking some mixology classes, because I was talking to a friend about becoming a bartender at an exclusive club. I would be paid way more, plus I would have benefits. And the work would be more challenging, more precise. There would be more opportunities to be creative. Not to mention mixing drinks would be more about the quality at an exclusive club rather than the quantity.”

“Wow, when did this happen?”

“While you were at marriage camp.” He smirks.

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense. Well, this is great. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.” He fully turns toward me. And I can see it, right there, the lightness in his expression, the joy in his demeanor. He really is doing better. “So how does this have anything to do with my friend?”

“Right.” I move my hand over my jaw. “I don’t want you to get upset when I tell you this, but I’ve sort of put things on hold in my life as I’ve tried to navigate the family drama and make sure that you’re okay. And what it comes down to is I don’t think I can move on or give Scottie my everything if I’m not sure that you’re going to be okay.”

His expression morphs into surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, man. You matter the most to me.”

“And I appreciate that, but, Wilder, you need to live your life. Is that why…is that why you haven’t gone anywhere? Why I keep telling you to go on a trip, but you won’t; you just stay here in the city? Because you’re worried about me?”

“Yeah, Mika. Listen, what happened that day—”

“Was a mistake,” he says.

“But it scared the fuck out of me.” I point to my chest. “And I never want that to happen again.”

“It won’t,” he says seriously. “I promise, it won’t. I’m better. I’m in a better place. I promise you. You won’t ever have to worry about that again.”

“Really?” I ask.

He nods. “I fucking promise.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling myself relax for the first time in a really long time.

I stare out the window, but he pulls my attention back by saying, “So what about Scottie?”

“I like her,” I say simply. “And now I need to show her how she deserves to be treated.”

“Because you messed up?”

I shake my head. “No, because she needs to know that she’s worth another human’s time. She needs to realize that she’s not forgettable.”

Mika nods his head. “And you think you can do that?”

“I know I can.”

I just need to visit someone to help me out.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





SCOTTIE

Denise: You seriously not coming out tonight?

I stare down at the text from my friend and sigh as I stand in front of the window AC unit of my apartment, trying to get over the city’s summer heat.

Scottie: No. It’s hot, muggy, and I just want to stay home.

Denise: You can’t hide forever, Scottie. I know I told you we didn’t have to talk about it in the car yesterday, but I feel like going out to the bar, having a few drinks, and just discussing things to get them off your chest would be a really good idea.