Not because I wanted him to stop me. But because I knew I’d just hurt him bad enough for him to not even try, and that was killing me almost as much as his confession had just shocked me.
I pulled into the driveway at my parents’ house and was out of my car and running toward the door within seconds of putting my car in park. Graham was standing on the stairs, like he’d been coming down them.
“There you—Grey? What happened?” he asked, his voice rising in alarm.
“I just . . . he just . . .”
“Grey, talk to me,” he demanded as he met me in the entryway. “What happened?”
“Oh my God, what’s wrong?” my mom asked, her steps heavy against the hardwood floor as she quickly approached us.
“Nothing,” I gritted out. “Nothing, and everything.”
“What—” Graham began, but I spoke over him.
“I went to Jagger’s place, and h-he has pictures—drawings of me. He draws me!” I said in exasperation, pointing behind me like Jagger or the drawings would be there. “And he doesn’t draw people, he doesn’t. There were only ones of me.”
“You’re upset because Jagger draws you?” Mom asked awkwardly, like she was worrying she would need to have me see a therapist, and Graham snorted.
“Mom, you didn’t see them! They—”
“Were they dirty?”
“What? No! But you don’t understand. It—it looked like—you just couldn’t understand if you didn’t see them. And he . . .” I trailed off, I couldn’t force out the words Jagger had told me. A huge part of me was still in denial. Telling someone else would just make this real.
“No, I think I understand,” Mom said softly, her face falling into the look of sympathy I’d seen so many times from her over the past two years, but this time there was a gentle smile as well.
When I caught Graham’s expectant expression that was aimed at me, and looked back to my mom, I realized they both understood. “How . . .” I trailed off, and looked to Graham again. “How could you possibly . . .”
“It’s not a secret, honey.” Mom shrugged and reached out to brush away some hair from my face. “That boy has—”
“No. No, he can’t.” Oh God. They knew and they looked like they thought it was a good thing!
“Kid,” Graham said on a sigh. “Come on, think about—”
“He’s my friend!”
“Grey,” my mom started again.
“He was Ben’s best friend!” I yelled. “He can’t—I can’t . . . this isn’t okay!” Hard sobs tore through my chest, but no tears came. “He’s supposed to be my friend, he’s not—he’s not . . . how can he do this? I was going to marry his best friend.” I wasn’t sure I was making sense anymore, but I couldn’t seem to get a grip on what was happening. “I saw the drawings and he got nervous, and he told me he’s always been in love with me! Why would he do that? Why—he can’t do this to us!”
“When has Jagger ever pushed his feelings on you?” Mom asked. “You had no idea until today, and I would say you still wouldn’t know if you hadn’t seen the drawings. But the rest of us have known since you became friends. It wasn’t hard to see the way he looked at you, or how he still looks at you.”
“How can you be so okay with this?” I screamed at her. “I was days away from marrying Ben when he died. How can you be okay with someone else wanting to be with me? How can you do that to Ben? How can Jagger?”
“Honey, it’s been two years.”
“I know that, Mom! You think I don’t know exactly how long it’s been? But I was with Ben for seven years,” I cried.
“He’s gone, Grey,” she said as tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “I know it’s hard, but he’s gone. It’s been years, and you have someone who has loved you and been there for you through everything. Someone who has taken care of you and will continue to. It’s okay to let yourself love someone again. It’s okay to move on.”
I shook my head slowly as I stepped away from them. “No. I can’t.” Looking to my brother, I gestured toward him. “Why are you looking at me like you think I’m making a mistake. You hate Jagger!”
“I don’t hate him, kid. I just . . .” He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders as he searched for the right words. “He was in love with my little sister. So was Ben. At that age, I wasn’t okay with any guy looking at you, let alone falling for you. But I’ve never hated either of them, and I respect Jagger for the way he’s stood back all these years, and has continued to just make sure you were okay.”
“This isn’t happening,” I whispered.
“If you didn’t like him, then that would be fine,” Graham said. “This conversation could be the last of it. You didn’t know how he felt, and then you find out about all of it the way you did—okay, I get it; he shocked you. But I think you’re taking this so hard because deep down you’re in love with him too—”
“What? No!”
“—and you don’t know if that’s okay. Mom’s right, though. As hard as it is, Ben’s gone, and it’s okay to move on. It’s not saying anything about you or the way you felt about Ben by letting yourself love Jagger.”