“I think I’m too wound up to eat right now. I’ll take it home.” I put my burger back in the sack, along with the rest of my fries. I fold the sack up and set it on the seat between us. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
I lean my head against the seat and study his face. “Do you hate me?” I’m surprised when the question leaves my mouth, but I need to know where his head is at. Sometimes, like when we were at his house, it feels like he hates me as much as Scotty’s parents do.
But then sometimes, like right now, he looks at me like he might empathize with my situation. I need to know who my enemies are, and I need to know if there’s anyone on my team. If I only have enemies, what am I even still doing here?
Ledger leans into his driver’s side door, resting his elbow on the windowsill. He stares straight ahead and rubs his jaw. “I formed an opinion of you in my head after Scotty’s death. All these years, it’s like you’ve been some random person online—someone I could make strong judgments about and place blame on without actually having to know. But now that we’re face to face . . . I don’t know that I want to say all the things to you I’ve always wanted to say.”
“But you still feel them?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Kenna.” He shifts in his seat so that his attention is more directed at me. “That first night you walked into my bar, I thought you were the most intriguing girl I’d ever met. But then when I saw you the next day in front of Patrick and Grace’s house, I thought you were the most disgusting person I’d ever met.”
His honesty fills my chest with embarrassment. “And tonight?” I ask quietly.
He looks me in the eye. “Tonight . . . I’m starting to wonder if you’re the saddest girl I’ve ever met.”
I smile what is probably the most painful-looking smile, simply because I don’t want to cry. “All of the above.”
His smile is almost as painful. “I was afraid of that.” There’s a question in his eyes. Lots of questions. So many questions, I have to look away from his face to avoid them.
Ledger gathers his trash and gets out of the truck and walks it over to a trash can. He lingers outside his truck for a moment. When he reappears at the driver’s side door, he doesn’t get in. He just grips the top of the truck and stares at me. “What happens if you have to move away? What are your plans? Your next step?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been too afraid to let go of the hope that they’ll change their minds.” That’s starting to feel like the direction this is going, though. And Ledger of all people knows where their heads are at. “Do you think they’ll ever give me a chance?”
Ledger doesn’t answer. He doesn’t shake his head or nod. He just completely ignores the question and gets in his truck and backs out of the parking lot.
Leaving me without an answer is still an answer.
I think about this the entire way home. When do I cut my losses? When do I accept that maybe my life won’t intersect with Diem’s?
My throat is dry and my heart is empty when we pull back into the parking lot of my apartment unit. Ledger gets out of the truck and comes around to open my door. He just stands there, though. He looks like he wants to say something, the way he shuffles back and forth on his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at the ground.
“It wasn’t a good look, you know. To his parents, to the judge, to everyone in that courtroom . . . you just seemed so . . .” He can’t finish his sentence.
“I seemed so what?”
His eyes connect with mine. “Unremorseful.”
That word knocks the breath out of me. How could anyone think I was unremorseful? I was absolutely devastated.
I feel like I’m about to start crying again, and I’ve cried enough today. I just need out of his truck. I grab my bag and my to-go food, and Ledger steps aside so that I can exit his truck. When my feet are on the ground, I start walking because I’m trying to catch my breath, and I can’t and don’t know how to respond to what he just said.
Is that why they refuse to let me see my daughter? They think I didn’t care?
I can hear his footsteps following me, but it forces me to walk even faster until I’m up the stairs and inside my apartment. I set my stuff down on the counter, and Ledger is standing in the doorway to my apartment.
I grip the edge of the counter next to the sink and process what he’s just said. Then I face him with the distance of the room between us. “Scotty was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I wasn’t unremorseful. I was too devastated to speak. My lawyers, they told me I needed to write an allocution statement, but I hadn’t been able to sleep in weeks. I couldn’t get a single word out on paper. My brain, it was . . .” I press a hand to my chest. “I was shattered, Ledger. You have to believe that. Too shattered to even defend myself, or care what happened to my life. I wasn’t unemotional, I was broken.”