Page 74 of Sing Your Secrets
“Early last year. A car accident. He uh…held on for a little bit, but after a few weeks, the doctor said he likely wouldn’t make it out of the coma. His family decided to…” Petey can’t even finish the words. His eyes shift to the tall Ficus in the corner of the lounge.
I tent my hands over my nose and mouth right as a hot tear streaks my cheek. “Oh my God…I didn’t know.” Another tear follows. “What kind of car accident? Was he in pain? I don’t…shit. Petey, I had no idea.” I try to blink but my eyelids seem frozen, wide open in shock.
“How would you know? When you left, you didn’t just leave me, you know? You shut out a lot of people. I don’t know who could’ve told you.”
“So, it’s my fault? Don’t you dare—”
“That’s not what I meant.” He takes another step forward and I flinch when he touches my shoulder. “I meant…I didn’t know if you would’ve cared to know.”
“Parker was my friend too,” I whisper. “Of course, I’d want to know.”
But the guilt seeps in because I certainly wasn’t acting like a friend. Parker tried to reach out to me a few times after Petey and I officially cut things off, but I was mourning and lost. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that and report it back to Petey. Parker even traveled through Denver a couple of years ago and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch. I didn’t bother responding. I had a new life and he was attached to Petey’s hip. I didn’t see the point of blurring lines.
“I’m sorry,” I say. When I peel my gaze from the floor, I look up to see Petey’s eyes are watering too. “You must really miss him.”
“Yeah,” he says with a heavy breath. “It took me a minute to come back from that one. I uh…sang at his funeral.”
My eyes, which had settled, widen again. “You sang? What?”
“The Band Perry.” His cheeks bunch but his tan skin covers the red embarrassment rising in his face. “Country of all things. It was awful, but I think Parker would’ve liked it.”
“Of course he would’ve. Damn, I wish I could’ve heard that. You have a great singing voice, Petey. Parker and I always tried to get you to pull a Drake and do both—rap and sing. You’d be great.” I suddenly register that I’m smiling, and I’m annoyed at myself for it.
“You told me a lot of stuff.” Petey hands me the thick bouquet of tulips. It took a lot of wasted dollars at the floral shop, but he finally got it right. Purple tulips are my kryptonite. “I should’ve listened.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of crinkling plastic as I nervously cinch the bottom of the bouquet in my hand. My thoughts are running rampant in opposite directions.
Go.
Stay.
Leave this building, right now.
Come upstairs.
“You look really good, Reese. Better than a dream.” Petey’s smile is earnest but it’s laced with hidden motivation. It’s all part of his sneaky charm.
“I think that’s where we belong,” I say firmly.
“What’s that?” he asks, his face pulling in concern. He looks nervous like he’s hanging on my every word. It’s funny, I’m in plain jeans and a raggedy T-shirt but I seem to have this man wrapped around my pinky at the moment. All those years of getting done up, obsessing about my looks, and he didn’t seem to notice me. Even when Petey and I were together, I felt like I was fighting all the other women in the world for his attention.
Taking in a breath, I reflect on all the nights I went home alone. All the times Petey chose his boys over me. When making love turned into quickie fucks. I remember why I had to leave. Why I had to cut him and his lifestyle out entirely.
“We’re better in dreams, Petey. Us? Together in real life? It’s a nightmare.”
He rubs his hand over his neck, grazing his freshly trimmed neckline. His eyes shift like he’s uncomfortable. “Yeah…Reese, I’m sorry, I think you’re misunderstanding.”
“What?” My eyes lock on his. He seems to shrink in place.
“These are just apology flowers. I should’ve been a better boyfriend at the time, and a friend throughout. I always wanted the chance to apologize to you in person. I have a lot of guilt about how childish I acted at the time. I am truly sorry. You deserved better, and you still do. But um…that’s all this is—just an apology. I’m not trying to get you back.”
My mouth falls open stupidly. “I saw your messages on Instagram—”
“Another apology I owe you. It was just drunken nights in the studio and old emotions flooding in. I was a little out of it and feeling vulnerable. I would’ve deleted them; I didn’t think you even saw them.”
The great Petey Pete the Sneak—vulnerable.Hm…
“Okay then, I’m officially embarrassed. I thought—”