“I don't know what you want me to say, Oakley.” My voice breaks over the words, my fingers clenching tight in the worn cotton of my damp towel. “I don't know what happened. I had two drinks, and then I don't remember the rest of the night. My buddy said I left early to go home because I wasn't feeling well, and I remember talking to Savannah for a second in the parking lot. She was trying to drive me home because I was fucked up, I told her no. Then I don't remember anything until the next morning.”
Oakley stares at me as I speak, horror and disbelief flashing over her features as the words spill out. Once I start talking, I can't seem to stop, and I crumple down onto the edge of my bed. My hair is still wet when I tug at it in frustration, shaking my head.
“I woke up naked in bed with her,” I admit sullenly. “I don't remember anything from that night, but I was sober when I woke up next to her.”
“But you didn't fuck her, right?”
Oakley’s voice trembles as she grasps at straws, hoping for redemption. I've made sure to give her everything I can my whole life, but this isn't something I can manage.
“Put two and two together, Oakley. You're not a little kid. Just because I don't remember it doesn't mean it didn't happen.”
The words taste bitter, acrid in my throat, and my eyes water at saying them aloud. This is the first time I've really admitted what happened, and it feels so much worse than I thought it would. There's an empty, gnawing pit in my gut. I want to fall headfirst into it.
“Don't patronize me, you dick,” Oakley snaps. “You're the one who was stupid enough to fall into one of her little traps. After everything she's done to me, after what her uncle did to our family, you still couldn't keep it in your fucking pants?”
“I'm not fucking proud of it!”
My anger explodes, and I shove up from the bed to pace furiously from wall to wall. I feel so helpless and small, stifled, like I'm stuffed into a cage and the bars are crushing in against me. I want to lash out at something, to pin the blame somewhere other than myself, but there's nowhere else to turn.
I'm the one who fucked up.
I'm the one who has to live with the consequences.
I keep my back turned to Oakley as I struggle to get my breathing under control. Tears burn hot on my cheeks, and I wipe at them furiously with the back of my hand. I don't deserve to cry over this.
“I know I fucked up.” My voice sounds hollow, ragged at the edges and desperate for some hope to hold onto. “I betrayed you, and everyone else, and I'm sorry. I don't expect forgiveness. I'm going to tell Mom and Dad tonight, and then I'll pack my stuff up and find somewhere to rent. I'm not going to make this anybody’s problem but my own, but I have to take responsibility.”
Oakley is quiet for several long seconds, tension building unpleasantly in my shoulders. She sighs, and I hear footsteps approach me. I kind of expect her to hit me, or maybe I just hope she will because I deserve it.
It feels so much worse when her slim arms wrap around my waist.
A sob tears from my chest at the tender gesture, and I hang my head in shame. This is probably goodbye, then. If only I could've learned my lesson without losing my family.
“Don't tell them yet.”
I startle at the sound of her voice, muffled against my back as she holds me tightly. Confusion wraps its way around my spine as I try to make sense of why she'd say that, but she keeps talking before I can puzzle it out.
“You said she gave you a week, right?”
I nod slowly and make a low noise of agreement.
“Something isn't right, Bo.” Her voice is still soft, but that undercurrent of steel is back. “I just… I don't know if I don't want to believe it or if I can just tell that something’s off, but I don't trust this. She has to be lying.”
I want to agree. I want to believe Oakley’s words so badly, but what would Savannah get out of having a child with me? Sure, we know now that the Wards have been trying to worm their way into the family, but there has to be an easier way.
Savannah may be the closest thing to evil I've ever met, but I have a hard time believing she'd use a child as leverage to get what she wants. Besides, that look of fear in her eyes was far too close to what I've been feeling myself to be fake.
“Just give me a few days to figure something out,” Oakley says, pulling back from me. “I'm positive she's up to something. Give me some time to prove it.”
My back feels cold without her pressed against it, and I turn slowly to face her again. The tears on her cheeks match the ones on mine. She looks solemn, but determined, a far cry from the desolate hopelessness hollowing me out.
It's not like I want this to be true, and I certainly don't want to lose my family over a stupid mistake.
I got drunk and ruined my life. I have to take responsibility for my own actions. My parents will expect me to marry Savannah and be a good father, and there won't be any other choice. Kenzie will move on, and I'll think of her every single day for the rest of my life and wish things were different.
Wishing doesn't change reality.
“We’re going to get down to the bottom of this, alright?” Oakley asks, her voice gentler now. “We’ll find out what's really going on.”
