The Air He Breathes
Page 53

“Tanner.”
“But I did find these articles on the accident.” He held the papers out toward me, and I placed my hands over my chest. My heartbeats were erratic, skipping beats and then speeding up whenever it chose to. “When Steven’s car lost control, it slammed into a white Altima. The Altima had three passengers in it.”
“Stop…” I whispered, my right hand cupping over my mouth, my body beginning to shake with horror.
“Sixty-year-old Mary Cole, who walked away from the accident.”
“Tanner, please. Don’t.”
“Thirty-year-old Jamie Cole…”
Tears fell, my insides twisting into knots as he continued speaking. “And eight-year-old Charlie Cole, who both lost their lives.”
Acid began to rise from my stomach and I turned away from him, sobbing uncontrollably into my hands, unable to truly believe what he was telling me. Had Steven been the reason that Tristan lost his world? Had my Steven been the cause of Tristan’s heartbreak?
“You can’t be here right now,” I managed to say. Tanner placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and I slung it off. “I can’t deal with this right now, Tanner. Go.”
He sighed heavily. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, Liz. I swear. But, could you imagine if you both found out later on? Could you imagine if he didn’t know until you two were in too deep?”
I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you two can’t stay together after this. There’s no way.” With hesitation, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re going to tell him, right?” My lips parted, but no words came out. “Liz. You have to tell him. He has a right to know.”
My hands brushed against my eyes. “I need you to go, Tanner. Please. Just go.”
“All I’m saying is if you love him, if there’s any part of you that truly cares for this guy, then you’ll let him go. You’ll let him move on.”
The last thing he said to me was he didn’t mean to hurt me.
I had a really hard time believing him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Elizabeth
I didn’t know how to tell Tristan what Tanner had told me. We drove to Mama’s house, and he could tell Tanner had said something that bothered me, but he didn’t pressure me to talk about it. I tried to put on my best smiles for Mama and Mike the night of their wedding reception; I tried my best to be happy for them, but inside my heart was so confused.
Emma dragged Tristan out to the dance floor. I couldn’t help but smile when I heard a slow song come on and watched Emma step onto his feet. Mama came over to me in her beautiful ivory dress and sat beside me.
“You haven’t said one word to me all night,” she said. Her smile was the sad kind.
“I came, didn’t I? Isn’t that good enough?” Such a big part of me felt somewhat betrayed by her sudden rush to the chapel. She’d always had a way of rushing all of her relationships, but she hadn’t been crazy enough to walk down the aisle with a man she hardly knew. I turned toward her. “What are you doing, Mama? Just be honest with me…were you having money issues again? You could’ve asked me for help.”
Her face reddened with embarrassment, maybe anger. “Stop it, Liz. I cannot believe you would say that to me, on today of all days.”
“It’s just…this is all so sudden.”
“I know.”
“And I know the man has a lot of money. Look at this wedding.”
“The money has nothing to do with it,” she disagreed. I cocked an eyebrow. “Really, it doesn’t.”
“Then what is it? Give me a reason you would rush into this crazy situation if it isn’t for the money. What are you getting out of this?”
“Love,” she whispered, her lips curving up. “I’m getting love.”
For some strange reason, those words stung me. My heart was pained as she confessed to the idea of loving another man who wasn’t Dad. “How could you?” I said, my eyes watering over. “How could you just throw the letters away like that?”
“What?”
“Dad’s letters. I found them in the garbage bin before Emma and I moved away. How could you?”
She sighed heavily, folding her hands together. “Liz, I didn’t just throw them away. I read each and every one of those letters every evening for sixteen years straight. Each night. Hundreds of letters. And then one day I woke up and realized that the security blanket I was wearing was really nothing but a crutch keeping me crippled from living my own life. Your father was a wonderful man. He taught me how to love fully. He taught me how to give into passion. And then I forgot. I forgot everything he taught me the day he left. I lost myself. I had to step away from the crutch of those letters in order to heal. You are so much stronger than me.”
“I still feel weak. Almost every day, I feel weak.”
She took my face in her hands and placed her forehead to mine. “That’s the thing, though. You’re feeling. I was numb. I didn’t feel anything. But you’re feeling. One must know what it feels like to be weak in order to really find their own strength.”
“Mike…he really makes you happy?” I asked.
Her face glowed.
She really did love him.
I hadn’t known we were truly allowed to love again.
“Tristan,” she said. “He makes you happy?”
I nodded slowly.
“And that scares you?”
I nodded once more.
She grinned. “Ah, then that means you’re doing it right.”
“Doing what right?”
“Falling in love.”
“It’s too soon…” I said, my voice shaky.
“Says who?”
“I don’t know. Society? What’s the amount of time you’re supposed to have before starting to fall in love again?”
“People say a lot of things and give you all kinds of unwanted advice and tips on how to mourn. They tell you not to date for years, to let time pass, but that’s the thing with love—time doesn’t exist with it. The only thing love counts is the heartbeats. If you love him, don’t get in your own way. Just allow yourself to feel again.”
“There’s something that I have to tell him. Something terrible, and I think I’ll lose him.”