Til Death Do Us Part || Tate Langdon

worth it

      "Tate?" your brows and voice rose slightly.

   "Is there another?" Constance made a clever retort. You shook your head and waited for her to continue. She stared off for a moment before saying, "You've known him a while, haven't you?"

   You were surprised she admitted it out loud, and said, "Yes. Since first grade."

   "You the little one that used to sneak over to my house while I was out?"

   For whatever reason, you felt a little nervous, but reasoned with yourself that you were an adult now: it wasn't like she could scold you. "Yeah, that was me. How'd you know?"

   "Those babysitters would've told me anything for an extra five bucks." She puffed her cigarette again, "Now, likely after having known Tate so long, you must have picked up that he isn't like others his age. Therapists he's seen have labeled him 'troubled' and 'sensitive', among other nasty things."

   Your brows knitted, wondering where she was going with this. You wanted to take up for him a little, but she wasn't completely wrong. "Maybe, yeah. So?"

   "I think it best that you don't see him alone anymore," she said nonchalantly. "Perhaps not even at all."

   Your eyes narrowed and you blinked in surprise, "What? Why?"

   "You just admitted yourself that he's a troubled boy. Unstable, to say the least."

   "Tate would never hurt me," you told her confidently.

   "You don't know him like I do," she blew smoke directly at you then, and you let out a few short coughs and waved it away. "Make one wrong move with him and you'll see a dark side you couldn't imagine."

   You were offended for him now, and accusatory questions flew out one after another, "What about you? Are you there for him? Were you ever? Why were you so hard on him when he dropped out of school? Do you even--"

   "That's enough," Constance hissed, then rolled her window down to throw her cigarette right on your lawn. "You heed my warning, hear? And don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

   You looked furiously between her eyes, waiting for her to tell you this was a prank, but instead, she unlocked her car doors and said, "Now get the hell out of my car."

   Once you had gotten out and shut her passenger side door a little too hard, you stood flabbergasted in your driveway as she sped off. Had that really just happened?

      Over the next week, you fought a mental battle with yourself to not go to Tate's house. You wanted him to finally be the one to come to you, or seek you out somehow; and much to your surprise-- he did. Six days after Constance's disturbing visit, you got a text from an unsaved number.

unknown number: Y/N, its me. please please come back. im begging you. my mom wont be here tomorrow and i'll explain everything to you if you think you can handle it. don't text this number back. -T

   You stared at your phone screen in disbelief; had Tate gotten a phone? Why couldn't you text the number back? You contemplated going to see him, but changed your mind back and forth every time you remembered how embarrassing it was to be stood up with no reasonable explanation. Constance's warning meant close to nothing to you: you knew Tate wouldn't hurt you. As you always did when you needed logical advice, you called Delaney who answered after the fourth ring.

   "Hey, what's up?"

   "Big surprise but I need your opinion again," you confessed, and she asked what about with a small chuckle. "So you know how I went to see Tate after he stood me up, and he said he 'couldn't tell me why'?" She told you she did, and you went on. "Well, just now he sent me a text basically begging me to come see him, and I don't know if I should."

   "Umm," she thought for a moment. "Honestly, you know him better than anyone, but to me it seems like he's always been weird and flaky. Like, is there anything he could say that would make standing you up okay?"

   "Maybe," you shrugged. "I'm curious to see though."

   "I guess I'd just ask if you think it's worth it?"

   Before you could think or stop yourself, you said, "I think I'm in love with him."

   You wished you could've seen Delaney's face as she said, "Oh shit," then after a short pause, "Well then, definitely go."

   You thanked her for always being an eye-opener and readily available when you needed her. She assured you it was no problem, and you got ready to head to Tate's. The entire drive to his house, you were a nervous wreck. You were finally, after 12 years of knowing each other, going to cross that boundary. After today, there was no going back. 

   When you pulled up to his house, you could see him looking longingly out of the biggest window on the second floor, right above their front door. His eyes widened when he saw you, and he turned and vanished to meet you at the door. He was opening it not a minute later, and you was surprised he'd gotten down all those stairs that fast. Before you could say a word, Tate had run up to you and hugged you like it'd been a decade since you last saw each other.

   He buried his face in your shoulder and said in a muffled voice, "You're here. I'm so glad you're here."

   You rested your head on the side of his and closed your eyes; you'd missed his scent and his touch. As if he were reading your mind, he pulled away and said, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Tate," you admitted bashfully, and he beamed with joy.