Ugly Love(25)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I make it all the way to his front door. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t tell me he’ll see me tomorrow, and he doesn’t tell me goodbye.

I’m hoping his silence is proof that he doesn’t like how it feels to be walked away from.

I open the door and walk across the hall and into my apartment. Corbin is seated on the couch, watching TV. He glances up at the door when he hears me enter, then shoots me a condescending look of disapproval.

“Lighten up,” I say as I make my way inside. I slip off my shoes by the door. “You have to get over this eventually.”

I see him shake his head, but I ignore it and walk toward my bedroom.

“He was screwing you behind my back and lying to me,” Corbin says. “That’s not something I’ll get over.”

I face the living room again and see that Corbin is looking at me. “Did you expect him to be open with you about it? My God, Corbin. You kicked Dillon out of your apartment for looking at me the wrong way.”

Corbin stands up, angry now. “Exactly!” he shouts. “I thought Miles was protecting you from Dillon, when in reality, he was laying claim! He’s a goddamn hypocrite, and I’ll be pissed at him for as long as I want to be pissed at him, so you get over it!”

I laugh, because Corbin has no right to point fingers.

“What’s funny, Tate?” he snaps.

I walk back to the living room and stand directly in front of him. “Miles has been nothing but honest with me about what he wants. He hasn’t once fed me a line of bullshit. I’m the only girl he’s been with in six years, and you’re going to call him a hypocrite?” I don’t even try to keep my voice down anymore. “You might want to look in the mirror, Corbin. How many girls have you been with since I’ve moved in here? How many of them do you think have brothers who would love to kick your ass if they found out about you? If anyone’s the hypocrite here, it’s you!”

His hands are on his hips, and he’s watching me with a hardened look in his eyes. When he fails to respond, I turn to walk back toward my room, but the front door opens with a knock.

Miles.

Corbin and I both turn, just as he peeks his head inside. “Everything good over here?” he asks, stepping into the living room.

I glance at Corbin, and Corbin glares at me. I arch an eyebrow, waiting for him to respond to the question Miles posed, since he’s the one with the issue.

“You okay, Tate?” Miles asks, addressing only me now.

I look back over at him and nod. “I’m fine,” I say. “I’m not the one with unrealistic expectations of my sibling.”

Corbin groans loudly, then turns around and kicks the couch. Miles and I watch him as he slides his hands through his hair and grips the back of his neck tightly. He turns to face Miles again, then exhales heavily.

“Why couldn’t you have just been gay?”

Miles looks at him with careful concentration. I’m waiting for either of them to have a reaction, so I’ll know whether or not I can breathe.

Miles begins to shake his head as soon as a smile appears on his face.

Corbin starts to laugh, but he groans at the same time, indicating that he just came to terms with our arrangement, even though he still may not agree with it.

I smile and walk quietly out of the apartment, hoping they’re about to mend whatever was broken between them when I stepped into the picture.

The elevator doors open on the lobby level, and I’m prepared to step off, but Cap is poised in front of them as if he’s about to step on.

“You coming for me?” he asks.

I nod and point upward. “Corbin and Miles are working things out upstairs. I was giving them a minute.”

Cap steps into the elevator and presses the button for the twentieth floor. “Well, I suppose you can walk me home,” he says. He grabs the bars behind him for support. I stand next to him and lean against the wall behind me.

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?”

He gives me the all clear with a nod. “I love being asked them as much as I love asking them.”

I look down at my shoes, crossing one foot over the other. “What do you think would make a man never want to experience love again?”

Cap doesn’t answer my question for at least five floors. I eventually look at him, and he’s looking right at me, his eyes narrowed, producing even more wrinkles between them. “I suppose if a man lived through the ugliest side of love, he might never want to experience it again.”

I contemplate his answer, but it doesn’t help much. I don’t see how love could get ugly enough for a person to just shut himself off from it completely.

The elevator doors open to the twentieth floor, and I let him step off first. I walk with him to his apartment door and wait for him to open it. “Tate,” he says. He’s facing his door, and he doesn’t turn around to finish his sentence. “Sometimes a man’s spirit just ain’t strong enough to withstand the ghosts from his past.” He opens his apartment door and walks inside. “Maybe that boy just lost his spirit somewhere along the way.” He closes his door and leaves me attempting to decipher even more confusion.

Chapter twenty-six

MILES

Six years earlier

My room is Rachel’s now. Rachel’s room is my room.

We graduated. We moved in together. We’re in college now.

See? We’ve got this.

Ian brings in the last of the boxes from the car. “Where do you

want this one?” he asks.

“What is it?” Rachel asks him.

He tells her it looks like a box full of her bras and underwear.

She laughs and tells him to set it next to my dresser. Ian does.

Ian likes Rachel. Ian likes that she’s not holding me back. Ian

likes that she wants me to get my degree and finish flight

school.

Rachel wants me to be happy. I tell Rachel I’ll be happy as long

as I have her.

She tells me, “Then you’ll always be happy.”

My dad still hates me. My dad doesn’t want to hate me.

They’re trying to accept it, but it’s hard. It’s hard for everyone.

Rachel doesn’t care what everyone thinks. She only cares what

I think, and I only think about Rachel.

I’m learning that no matter how difficult a situation is, people

learn how to adapt to it. My dad and her mom may not

approve, but they’ll adapt.

Rachel may not be ready to be a mom, and I may not be ready

to be a dad, but we’re adapting.

It’s what has to happen. If people want peace within

themselves, it’s necessary.

Vital, even.

“Miles.”

I love my name when it comes out of her mouth. She doesn’t

waste it. She only says it when she needs something. She only

says it when it needs to be said.

“Miles.”

She said it twice.

She must really need something.

I roll over, and she’s sitting up in bed. She looks at me, wide—

eyed.

“Miles.” Three times. “Miles.” Four. “It hurts.”

Shit.

I jump out of bed and grab our bag. I help Rachel change

clothes. I help her to the car.

She’s scared.

I might be more scared than she is.

I hold her hand while we drive. I tell her to breathe. I don’t

know why I tell her this. Of course, she knows to breathe.

I don’t know what else to tell her.

I feel helpless.

Maybe she wants her mom.

“Do you want me to call them?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says. “After.”

She just wants it to be us. I like this. I just want it to be us, too.

A nurse helps her out of the car. They take us to a room. I get

Rachel whatever she needs.

“Do you need ice?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want a cold rag?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want me to turn off the TV?”

I turn it off.

“Do you want another blanket, Rachel? You look cold.”

I don’t get her a blanket. She’s not cold.

“Do you want more ice?”

She doesn’t want more ice.

She wants me to shut up.

I shut up.

“Give me your hand, Miles.”

I give it to her.

I want it back.

She’s hurting it.

I let her keep it anyway.

She’s quiet. She never makes a sound. She just breathes. She’s

incredible.

I’m crying. I don’t know why.

I love you so goddamn much, Rachel.

The doctor tells her she’s almost done. I kiss her on the

forehead.

It happens.

I’m a dad.

She’s a mom.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor says.

She’s holding him. She’s holding my heart.

He stops crying. He tries to open his eyes.

Rachel cries.

Rachel laughs.

Rachel tells me thank you.

Rachel tells me thank you. Like she wasn’t the one who created

this.

Rachel is crazy.

“I love him so much, Miles,” she says. She’s still crying. “I love

him so, so much.”

“I love him, too,” I tell her. I touch him. I want to hold him,

but I want her to hold him even more. She looks beautiful

holding him.

Rachel looks up at me. “Will you please tell me his name

now?”

I was hoping he would be a boy so I could have this moment.

I was hoping I could tell her what her son’s name is, because I

know she’ll love it.

I hope she remembers the moment

she

became

my

everything.

Miles is going to show you the way to Mr. Clayton’s class, Rachel.

“His name is Clayton.”

She begins to sob.

She remembers.

“It’s perfect,” she says, her words mixed with tears.

She’s crying too hard now. She wants me to hold him.

I sit on the bed with her and take him.

I’m holding him.

I’m holding my son.

Rachel rests her head on my arm, and we stare at him.

We stare at him for so long. I tell Rachel he has her red hair.

Rachel says he has my lips. I tell Rachel I hope he has her

personality. She disagrees and says she hopes he’s just like me.

“He makes life so much better,” she says.

“He sure does.”

“We’re so lucky, Miles.”

“We sure are.”

Rachel squeezes my hand.

“We’ve got this,” Rachel whispers.

“We’ve so got this,” I tell her.

Clayton yawns, and it makes us both laugh.

Since when did yawns become so incredible?

I touch his fingers.

We love you so much, Clayton.

Chapter twenty-seven

TATE

I drop down into the chair beside Cap, still dressed from head to toe in my scrubs. As soon as I got home from work, I studied for two hours straight. It’s already after ten, and I haven’t even had supper yet, which is why I’m sitting next to Cap right now, because he’s getting to know my habits and had a pizza ordered for the two of us.

I hand him a slice and grab my own, then shut the lid and set it on the floor in front of me. I shove a huge bite into my mouth, but Cap is staring down at the slice in his hand.

“It’s really sad when pizza can make it to you faster than the police¸” he says. “I just ordered this ten minutes ago.” He takes a bite and closes his eyes like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

We both finish our slices, and I reach for another one. He shakes his head when I offer him a second slice, so I put it back in the box.

“So?” he says. “Any progress between the boy and his friend?”

It makes me laugh that he constantly refers to Miles as the boy. I nod and respond with a mouthful. “Kind of,” I say. “They had a successful game night, but I think it was only successful because Miles pretended I wasn’t there the whole time. I know he’s trying to respect Corbin, but it kind of makes me feel like shit in the process, you know?”

Cap nods like he understands. I’m not sure that he does, but I like that he always listens so attentively anyway. “Of course, he texted me the entire time he was in the living room sitting next to Corbin, so I guess I have that. But then there are weeks like this week when he’s not even in the same state, and it’s like I don’t even exist to him. No texts. No phone calls. I’m pretty sure he only thinks about me when I’m within ten feet of him.”

Cap shakes his head. “I doubt that. I bet that boy thinks about you a lot more than he lets on.”

I’d like to believe those words to be true, but I’m not so sure they are.

“But if he doesn’t,” Cap says, “you can’t be mad at him for it. Wasn’t part of the agreement, now, was it?”

I roll my eyes. I hate that he always brings me back to the fact that Miles isn’t the one breaking rules or agreements. I’m the one with the problems in our arrangement, and that’s no one’s fault but my own.

“How did I get myself into this mess?” I ask, not even needing an answer. I know how I got myself into this mess. I also know how to get out of it … I just don’t want to.

“You ever heard that expression, ‘When life gives you lemons …’?”

“Make lemonade,” I say, finishing his quote.

Cap looks at me and shakes his head. “That’s not how it goes,” he says. “When life gives you lemons, make sure you know whose eyes you need to squeeze them in.”

I laugh, grab another slice of pizza, and wonder how in the hell I ended up with an eighty-year-old man as my best friend.

Corbin’s home phone never rings. Especially after midnight. I throw the covers off and grab a T-shirt, then pull it over my head. I don’t know why I bother getting dressed. Corbin’s gone, and Miles isn’t due back until tomorrow.

I make it to the kitchen on the fifth ring, right as the answering machine picks up. I cancel the message, then put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Tate!” my mother says. “Oh, my God, Tate.”