Free RoomHate by Penelope Ward Page A

to respond. I never in a million years expected him to say that. I knew he cared about me, but I never knew he had loved me like I loved him.
    He had loved me?
    He continued, “I would have died for you back then. When you left, it felt like my world ended. Besides your grandmother, you were the only one I could count on. You were always there…until you weren’t anymore. Losing you taught me not to count on anyone but myself. It shaped who am I today…and that’s not necessarily a good thing.”
    It hurt so badly to hear him say that. “I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t need to apologize again; you already did.”
    “If you don’t forgive me, then I do need to keep repeating it.”
    He let out a long, deep breath. “Like I’ve said to you before, I’ve moved on from it.”
    I didn’t want him to move on. I wanted to go backwards, back in time and hug him. Never let him go.
    Still reeling from his admission, I dug my nails into the back of the couch and said, “I don’t want us to be virtual strangers. You still mean so much to me. The fact that you’re angry at me won’t change that.”
    “What do you want from me?”
    “I want us to try to be friends again. I want us to be able to sit in the same room and talk to each other, maybe have a few laughs. We’re gonna always own this house together in any case. Someday, we’ll be bringing children here. We need to get along.”
    “I am not gonna have children,” he said emphatically.
    The fact that Jade had confided in me about Justin’s not wanting kids had skipped my mind.
    “Jade told me.”
    “She did, did she? What else did you talk about? My dick size? You tell her you got a good look at it?”
    I chose not to entertain the quip and stayed with the subject at hand. “Why don’t you want children, Justin?”
    “You of all people should understand that it’s asinine to bring a child into this world if you’re not one-hundred percent sure of your capabilities. My parents are a prime example of people who should have never procreated.”
    “You’re not your parents.”
    “No, but I’m a fucked-up product of their mistakes, and I’m not gonna repeat history.”
    It made me immensely sad that he felt that way. Thinking back to how protective he always was of me, I knew Justin would make an amazing father. He just couldn’t see that. Knowing that I had promised we wouldn’t rehash the past beyond tonight, an urgent need to get more off my chest overtook me.
    “I beg to differ. I think that you are so much stronger as a person because you had to grow up a lot quicker than kids who were coddled and handed everything easily. You’ve given to others what your parents neglected to give you. I’ll never forget how you always managed to make me laugh even when it seemed impossible, how you always knew exactly what I needed, how you always protected me. Those are the qualities that would make someone a good parent. And whether you have children or not, you are an amazing human being. Not only that, your musical talent completely blows me away. It makes me so sad to think of everything that I missed because of my stupidity and fear. I know we’ve both changed somewhat, but I still see all the good in you even when you are trying so hard to hide behind a mask.” My eyes started to water, and a teardrop fell. “I miss you, Justin.” It felt like everything had just come pouring out of me before I could think about the consequences of being so open about my feelings.
    He startled me when he reached over and swiped a teardrop from my cheek with his thumb, prompting me to close my eyes. His touch felt so good.
    “I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” he said.
    Nodding, I said, “Okay.”
    He lifted himself off the couch and turned off the television. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”
    I followed his lead out the front door and down to the beach. We walked in silence for what seemed like an eternity. The night was still except for the sound