Redemption

TWO YEARS

I could feel Sawyer's legs kicking back and forth beneath the table. She loved sitting high up. The curly-haired girl said it made her feel free. I loved watching the pieces of her childhood she lost to the dangers of her father coming back. Like how there's pizza sauce sitting at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes are dancing around the kitchen like she doesn't have a care in the world.

She's young again. Everything she never felt, she's feeling now. It might be overwhelming, but she never shows it. It made me think about her childhood. I knew stories from Fletcher, but I've never heard them from Sawyer. It didn't take much to realize how the abuse shifted after Fletcher left. She confirmed that when she walked into the house covered in blood.

There's still a scar on her eyebrow. So, no matter how hard she tries to move on from the past, there's always a reminder. I wanted to heal it. I wished it to disappear for her. I wanted to take away the questions people would ask when they wondered how she got it. It'd bring up memories she'd spend her whole life trying to heal from.

Watching her now made me question how long it's been since she started kicking her legs back and forth. The girl who showed up on our doorstep wasn't the same one sitting in front of me. She's loose. Her muscles aren't as tense. She's different. A good different.

Whenever I caught her laughing with Fletcher, I wanted to know more about their childhood. It killed me to think anyone would want to hurt them. It hurt even more to know somebody did. It pissed me off. Instead of being scared of monsters under their bed, they were afraid of the man they called dad.

I knew the day Fletcher told me about his dad, I'd never be able to meet him without walking away in handcuffs. I don't know what I'll do when Sawyer opens up. I haven't let on that I know, but her brother is my best friend, and there's an understanding there.

Seeing the curly-haired girl now made me picture her as a child. A little girl kicking her feet beneath the table as her hair flopped back and forth. Maybe other kids liked ice cream, but she loved pizza, and I can almost hear her giggles. If the cheese wasn't falling off, she'd probably tell you it wasn't done right, but then again, she's too kind to call somebody out. But if she did, it'd make you want to get back in the kitchen and get it right the second time because kids like her have you wrapped around their fingers.

Thinking about it made me wonder if she ever wanted kids. If I told her my childhood ruined my outlook on marriage and children would she run? How quickly would she pull the title of being my girlfriend? Because I never thought I'd have one or any type of commitment, but I know I can't exist without her. I already have and it was the worst part of my life. I couldn't do it again. Not when I've felt genuine happiness. Not when it felt like I could finally get somewhat of a happy ending.

I wanted to believe I could give her everything, but I second-guessed myself. It made me picture her with someone else. There's a man out there who can give her more than I can. I cannot stand the fucking idea of someone else having her, but I prioritize her happiness. If I couldn't make that happen, I'd set her free.

The world doesn't seem to weigh on her shoulders so heavily anymore. She breathed easier. Sometimes she needed to know that extra baggage wasn't always hers to carry. I'd be here to lighten the load.

Staring at her made me realize all the things I adored about her. It also made me realize how much I didn't want to lose the opportunity of keeping her.

Then Tory walked through the door.

The girl beside me didn't seem surprised by his presence. I tried brushing it off. I tried to pretend it didn't bother me when he approached her. He's been here a million fucking times, but it annoys me more than ever now because he can't take a fucking hint.

It also made the picture of her finding better too clear. Because Tory could give her more. His parents are together, and he's not a fuck up. He's got a bright future ahead of him. He isn't afraid like I am. So, she'll never have to spend her days trying to change his outlook on the world.

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

I watched him slide into the seat beside Sawyer as she shrugged. "Why?"

"I thought we could talk about what happened."

"Oh," she picked at her pizza. "Okay."

Winston tried sparking a conversation about football with me and Fletcher, but I couldn't stop myself from listening to Tory's advancements towards Sawyer. I started losing myself in the thoughts wrecking my mind. What if she picks him instead?

I shoved away from my seat when the tightness in my chest became too much. Everybody went silent as the chair scraped against the tile. I heard Sawyer call out for me, but I didn't hear what she said.

Just as I reached my room, I slammed the door shut. Things crashed around me while I rested my forehead against the wall to steady my breathing. Lately, the anger has been too hard to handle, and right now, I feel like exploding.

The ringing of my phone stole my attention. I slipped my fingers into my pocket, pulling out the device to find a random number flashing across the screen. I tried ignoring it, but it kept popping up until I finally answered.

"What?" I spat into the phone.

"Carter," my dad's voice flooded through. "Why are you ignoring my phone calls?"

"I'm not in the mood – "

"Your mom is back in town."

My body stilled. "What are you calling me for then?"

"To make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," I choked. "I could care less about that woman. She fucking left me – "

"Carter – "

"Don't call me again."

I ended the phone call before he could say anything else. The anger and pain I've concealed has fought its way back. All of it is just too hard to conceal. I found myself digging through the closet to find the bottle of whiskey I kept hidden after promising my friends sobriety.

As soon as the smell hit my nose, I brought the bottle to my lips and said goodbye to the two years I spent detoxing from alcohol. The guiltier I felt, the more I drank. When I felt nauseous, I pulled it away from my mouth. The burn made me question why I ever stopped, and the torment began.

Because this is why my mom left.

I'm a disappointment. She always knew that. Even when I was a kid. Now I'm just proving her point.

"Carter?"

I hid the bottle just before Joey came into my room. "Can't you fucking knock?"

Fear flashed through her eyes. "Are you okay?"

I wiped my face. "What do you want?"

"Tory and Cade left – "

"I don't care. Why are you in here?"

Hurt replaced the emotions on her face. "Never mind."

"Why did you come in here, Joey?"

"My sister called. Her husband's dad is in the hospital. They asked me to watch the kids, so Fletcher and I are staying at their house tonight."

I sighed. "Okay?"

"I'll tell Sawyer to go with us tonight."

My jaw clenched. "And why would you do that?"

Her eyes caught the light and reflected off the glossy haze that said she was planning on crying as soon as she left. "Because you're drinking again."

I looked to the left to find the bottle barely concealed by my blanket. "It's not what you think – "

"Two years," she whimpered. "Two fucking years, Carter."

"Joey – "

"Do you not remember what happened the last time you drank?"

I felt the guilt eating me alive as my veins buzzed. "Just go away, Joey." 

I watched her shut the door, leaving me just like everyone else did. Alone.