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Tristan was unusually quiet as Jenna drove. Not five minutes ago he said he loved her. And a few seconds before that he’d told his mom she was no one. Why he wanted to hide their new relationship from his mother was odd. Granted, Arlene had always been an odd duck herself.
When Tristan first introduced Jenna to her back in high school, his mother had been kind, if not a braggart about her son. It was cute how much she doted on him. As a single mother, Tristan was her everything. Jenna could totally understand that.
As their relationship grew and they spent more and more time together, she could sense his mother’s resentment. His mother was lonely, and Jenna felt bad. Tristan had always wanted to hang at her house so they could have more privacy.
Not that there was much. Danny looked up to Tristan like he was some sort of god and hung around them all the time. Having alone time was a scarcity. Thinking back, she now understood why their parents were hesitant to let two teenagers alone for very long.
She passed the onramp for the turnpike and continued east.
“Where are you going?”
“You can give your mom five minutes. It’ll make her day. She sounded really upset on the phone.” She couldn’t make out every word, but her tone and volume were higher than normal.
Well, what was normal years and years ago. After the accident and when she’d returned from the hospital, Jenna had cut everyone out of her life. No visits from friends, no stopping by to see her mother-in-law, and eventually she even cut out Tristan.
Those weeks and months after losing Anna were a blur. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even spoken to Arlene. She was in the hospital as well, a victim from the same accident, with a broken hip and messed up knee and had needed months of physical therapy.
The only moments Jenna had alone were when Tristan brought his mother to her appointments, and she realized she liked being alone better than being with him, which was when she moved back into her parents’ home.
“She’s having a rough time right now and has been ... moody. I don’t want her to ruin what we’ve got going on.”
“Yeah?” She flashed him a grin. “What exactly do we have going on?” She ran her hand up his thigh, chuckling when he growled.
“You can’t distract me with your hands.”
“No?” She slid her hand higher until she reached his crotch. “I beg to differ.”
“Jenna,” he growled again.
Laughing at how easy he was to get going, she returned her hand to the wheel. “If your mother is having a hard time, then you definitely need to visit her. You’re all she has.”
“I know.” Instead of sounding sympathetic, Tristan’s voice had an edge of worry.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s been living on disability since the accident.”
“Seriously? How didn’t I know this?” He didn’t need to answer her question. She didn’t know because she chose not to know about anything connected to Tristan. “Is she mobile?”
“Yes.” He shifted in his seat and ran his hands up and down his thighs in what seemed like a nervous gesture. “She’s a ... recluse. She’s gained a lot of weight and has used the accident as an excuse to be ... well, to be a victim.”
Another victim of Tristan’s carelessness. Between Jenna and Arlene’s guilty treatment they’d been laying on him for so many years, it was a wonder he turned out so ... wonderful. He lived with regret and sorrow for the accident, and now was time to forgive.
Jenna flicked on her blinker and turned on to Chestnut Road. Even though it had been a long time since she’d driven down it, the road was still familiar. Small one and two bedroom bungalows built closely together.
The front patch of lawn could be mowed with three or four passes. The backyards weren’t much bigger and looked into the neighbor’s yard. It was a section of affordable housing not much different from her neighborhood, only these homes were more rundown and not well cared for.
“She’s still holding it over your head? The accident? I can’t imagine it’s been good for your relationship.” She pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine.
Tristan turned away from her and stared out the window. “Maybe you should stay in the car.”
“Not a chance. You’ve been caring for her all alone and need support of your own.” Maybe if Arlene saw how Jenna had forgiven Tristan, she could too. She unbuckled and hopped out of her car before he could argue. She waited for him at the bottom of the rotting step to the front door.
“Jenna.” He placed his hands on her hips. “Please. Can you wait out here? I’ll check on her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Oh.” Realization set in. “Is it a pride thing? Does she not want me to see her this way? She should know I’m the least judgmental person there is. My father has worked for the sanitation department for over thirty years. My mother is a receptionist. I grew up poor as well. If either one of them went on disability—”
“Are you coming in sometime today?” Arlene’s voice bellowed from the open doorway.
Tristan closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. “Let’s keep this short.” He took her hand and helped her up the step, holding the front door open for her. “Hi, Mom.”
“No food for me today?” She huffed and with the help of a cane, waddled back to the couch.
Jenna tried to not make her sympathy—or was it pity—too obvious. Arlene had gained at least a hundred pounds and wore a ratty, stained t-shirt and black stretch pants. She’d bet her hair hadn’t seen a stylist in years. Gray, straggly, and greasy, it hung past her shoulders in tangled knots.
The living room was barely big enough for the couch, coffee table, and a television that sat on a table in the corner. It was the same as she’d remembered it, only dirtier. And smelly. No wonder Tristan had been hesitant about her coming to see his mom. It was like she stopped caring.
While the house was the same, Arlene had always taken care of it and cleaned regularly enough for it to never look or smell like it did now. The living room bled into the kitchen and eating nook.
Those spaces weren’t much better. Even from the living room, Jenna could see the piles of dishes on the counter and the sink.
“Michael drove the van back, so I got a ride with Jenna.” Tristan picked up a pile of magazines and straightened them on the coffee table. He gathered the paper plates strewn across the couch and table and stacked six cups. “Have you been eating the meals I put in your freezer?”
Two empty pizza boxes sat on the floor by her feet.
“I ate the stew and the roast.”
“You need to eat the vegetables as well.” He dumped the garbage in the kitchen trash and filled up the sink with water. Tristan gave her a curt nod, telling her to join him at the sink.
Torn between going into the kitchen to help with the dishes and making conversation with Arlene, she chose the option a stranger would most likely take. Idle conversation.
“Do you still go to Bingo nights on Thursday?”
Arlene sneered at her. “And how do you suppose I get there with a broken hip?”
Jenna inwardly cringed. Tristan had said she’d turned into a recluse. Stupid question. Since her son had always been her pride and joy, maybe she’d respond better to conversations about him.
“Tristan’s new company is in high demand. It’s like his last name was made for the business.”
“Too bad his father never stuck around to actually earn having a son with his name.”
Yeah, she sucked at this. It was like meeting the boyfriend’s mom for the first time all over again. Only this time the mother was bitter and sour.
“I think I like his spinach ravioli the best. Granted, I haven’t sampled too many of his dishes, but pasta has always been my favorite.” There. She did it. She ignored the snide and continued with the Pollyanna attitude.
“You came back because he’s making money. That’s just like your type. You used him for a baby, and when you took her away from him, you left him in the dust. He was better off without you anyway.”
“Mom.” Tristan stepped in front of Jenna. “Can we not do this right now? I’m going to do a quick clean up, then we really need to go. Why don’t you take a shower while I’m here.”
“And now you’re insulting me in front of her?”
“That’s not an insult at all.” He gripped his mom under her arm and helped her up from the couch. “I know how nervous you are about slipping and not having anyone here. I’ll make you dinner while you shower, okay?”
Jenna stepped back as they passed by her. At the bathroom door, visible from where Jenna stood in the living room, Arlene turned.
“This is all your fault, you know.”
“Mom. Go shower.” He reached over her and turned on the light.
Arlene didn’t budge and glared down the short hall at Jenna. “You ran that light that made me crippled and killed my granddaughter.”
Jenna gasped and stumbled backward. She placed her hands on her belly and shook her head furiously. “I ... no. I didn’t.” She stared at Tristan, not to blame, necessarily, but to correct his mom.
Only his eyes didn’t meet hers. He stared into the bathroom and nudged his mother. “Stop. Leave it alone.”
“I will not.” Arlene shuffled around so she faced Jenna head on. “All these years he let you believe it was him who was at fault. But I’m tired of the lies. Of the shame you put on my son when it was you who was careless. He might have jumped the instant the light turned green, but you ran the red light. Because of you, I haven’t been able to work. I’m dependent on the state and my only son to care for me. Because of you, he never visits me. I’m dying a slow death in this miserable home while you’ve sauntered off living your life as if you hadn’t ended two others.”
“Mom! That’s enough.”
“Tristan,” Jenna whispered, needing him to come to her defense. To take the blame for their child’s death. When he didn’t turn to her, she cried out again. “Tristan! Is it true?”
No. Clutching at her empty womb, the pain came rushing back. A tightening pulled at her belly and cramped her side. Once again, she felt her insides being ripped from her. Her baby. Her uterus. Her heart.
All gone. Only this time it wasn’t her husband, the love of her life who took it all away.
It was her. Reaching blindly for the wall behind her, she walked backward toward the front door.
“I ... I ... I...” Tears blurred her vision and clogged her throat.
“Jenna. Honey.” Tristan was at her side, his hands on her face.
She pushed him away. “You lied to me? All these years?”
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Let’s focus on the present. The future.”
“I killed Anna? It was my fault?” she cried, her chin trembling, her stomach heavy with guilt and shame.
“No, baby. It was an accident.”
“Baby? My baby is dead because of me!” The pain of the accident from so long ago played over and over again in her chest and in her head. “I need to go.”
“Okay.” He took her hand and guided her to the door.
“What about me? You can’t leave me here all alone again. I’m the innocent victim here.”
“Go.” Jenna pushed him back. “I need...” she sobbed, “...to be alone.”
It was like sharpened nails had ripped through her flesh, only those nails were hers and not Tristan’s. She took one long, painful screeching breath and somehow managed to find the handle to the front door. She wandered the streets, thirsty for the fresh November air.
When her legs grew too weak to continue carrying her body, she found a patch of dead grass on someone’s front lawn and sat.
All these years she’d been blaming Tristan for taking their baby away, for being careless and changing their lives in the worst possible way. She held onto her anger, her resentment, even her hate until it nearly took her life.
She thought the worst pain she could ever feel was knowing her husband had killed their child. But she was wrong.
Knowing it was her fault their baby was dead was the worst feeling imaginable. Her head throbbed causing the ground to tilt, while her heart pounded fear through her body. Despite the cold air, sweat coated her body, as her stomach threatened to heave up her lunch. The tightness in her throat made it hard to swallow, hard to breathe.
It was her fault.
The houses spun around her. Jenna pulled her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, her muscles weakened, her limbs trembled. Her stomach spasmed uncontrollably as she tried not to completely breakdown.
She killed Anna.
She killed her daughter.
Her head spun with dizziness as the world tilted on its axis. Time had stopped yet kept spinning around her.
Shock.
Disbelief.
She was totally broken inside. And this time she’d done it herself. It took eight years to forgive Tristan, but she’d never forgive herself.
She killed Anna.
Her baby was dead because of her.
She killed her daughter.
Jenna’s mouth hung open in agony as desperate, pleading, groans escaped her lips.
That familiar dark hole was back. And this time she had nobody to blame but herself.
***
TRISTAN WANTED DESPERATELY to run after Jenna but gave her a few minutes to be alone. It was a big blow to take.
Blow. Not nearly strong enough a word. One didn’t exist for something of this magnitude.
He rushed through the dishes and scrubbed the counter and the tables in the living room while his mother showered. Every few minutes he went outside and looked down the street for Jenna. She couldn’t have gone too far.
Hell. She could barely stand; he doubted she could walk more than a few hundred yards. He came back in and threw a load of clothes and sheets in the laundry. Normally he’d do that first off so he had time to put them in the dryer, but today he didn’t care.
His mother could do more than she claimed. She loved playing the martyr. Maybe now that the truth was out, she would stop playing the victim card and take her therapy more seriously.
There were plenty of jobs she could hold as well. One of these days, the insurance company would come knocking and call her on her hypochondria.
Arlene came out to the living room, showered and changed and seemed almost happy.
“That was cruel.”
“You’ve been lying to her for years. I’d say that was more cruel. I didn’t like her making you out to be the bad guy while she carried on with her life.”
“You know how fragile she was after the accident. Hell, Mom, she contemplated taking her own life after Anna died, and she thought I was at fault. I pray to God she’s more stable now and won’t think about doing it.”
“Suicide? Jenna?” His mother’s voice softened in a way he hadn’t heard in years.
“Yes.” And she was out there all alone.
“I had no idea.”
Not that he had either until she told him last month. He didn’t regret lying to her all these years. Had she known she was the one who ran the light, he feared she would have gone through with it and ended her life.
“I need to find her.” He grabbed Jenna’s keys from the end table and opened the door. He had one foot out when his mother called to him.
“Tristan.” He paused but didn’t turn around, too angry at his mother for hurting Jenna. “I’m sorry. I wanted your name cleared, but I don’t want her to...”
“I know.” He believed his mother. She was bitter and enjoyed her pity parties, but she wouldn’t wish anyone dead. “I have to go.”
“I am sorry. You love me, don’t you?”
He nodded but didn’t turn around. “You’re my mom. I’ll always love you. And I’ll always love Jenna as well.” With that, he closed the door and jogged down the street, hoping he was going in the right direction.
It didn’t take him long to find her. Her legs were drawn up, her arms wrapped around them and her forehead resting on her knees.
He slowed as he approached her and took a seat on the brown grass next to her. She swayed back and forth, groaning, and bumped into his shoulder.
Startled, she lifted her head, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks streaked with tears. “I killed my baby.”
“No, you didn’t.” He drew her into his chest and let her cry on his shoulder. They sat like that, on a stranger’s front yard, for minutes or hours, he didn’t know. Time stood still as he held her and let her cry.
She needed to mourn, and he was glad she could do it in his arms this time instead of pushing him away.
When the sun dipped behind the trees, he rubbed her back and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”
Her body, limp with exhaustion, leaned on him as they walked back to her car. She slid into the passenger seat without a word.
There were no words that needed to be said, that could be said. Once again, time was the only thing that could heal. She let him take her hand and hold it in his as he drove them home, but she didn’t squeeze his back.
Passing through Crystal Cove, he continued on to Rockland and parked in front of his house. He wouldn’t let her be alone tonight. Hell, he didn’t want her to be alone ever.
Taking her body language as a cue, he walked her into his house and to his bedroom. He turned down the sheets and helped her in between them, first taking off her shoes. Cute little ballet flats she’d called them back in the day.
Not one for heels or even sneakers, Jenna liked the slip-on kind of shoes. He was glad some things stayed the same. Kissing her forehead as he pulled up the sheets, he whispered to her, “I love you, sweetheart. Forever and always.”
He tucked his comfort bear under her chin and backed away, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar so he could hear her if she needed him. When he reached the living room, he took out his cell to call his staff. He’d never canceled on a customer nor had he ever entrusted 100% of the prep, cooking, and serving to his team. But if he wanted to start cutting back hours so he could spend more time with Jenna, it was now or never.
Because never wasn’t an option.