Page 64 of Untamed

“I didn’t know…”

“Well.” She sighs. “He doesn’t know either, River. He doesn’t know that your mom was too caught up in her own life to tell you. He doesn’t know that you were willing to forget about what happened between you guys for a little bit to be there for him. He’s still under the impression you hated him.”

“I know, I know.” I groan and slide down the wall until I’m hugging my knees to my chest. “I’m a shitty person. I know.”

“You are not a shitty person, River Larson.” She sits next to me on the floor and takes my hands in her own. “You’ve both been through a lot. And anyone who says otherwise doesn’t understand what it’s like to go through the heartache you went through. That shit changes a person. You were scared. You had responsibilities back at school. You didn’t leave him out of spite or to purposefully make him suffer.”

“I left him alone.” My voice breaks, even though I’m whispering.

“He was not alone.” Her voice is firm and sure as she scoots closer. “He had his whole family. And I’m not blaming him at all, but you were alone, too, River. You went back to the city, and you had to heal from the grief of losing Addie alone. You didn’t even know she was that sick…you didn’t get to say goodbye.”

I choke back a sob.

“Grief is messy,” she continues. “Losing someone you love causes a deep ache that never really goes away. Hell, it barely lessens as time goes on. And it sucks that you didn’t have one another when you needed each other. It really does. But you guys have to stop throwing blame around like you are.”

I take a deep breath and try to center myself.

“You can’t keep hiding this from him,” she says. “It’s going to eat you alive. And eventually, it’ll come out. His parents will say something, or Rhett or Wells will. He’s going to feel betrayed if that happens. If he doesn’t hear it from you first, that shit is going to sting.”

We both hear the footsteps at the same time, and I wipe my eyes as I straighten up, and Poppy moves away from me a touch. Hayes walks around the side of the barn and leans against the doorframe. The way he’s looking at me…I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“Poppy.” He nods in her direction, and she says hello before going back to cleaning up. Hayes turns toward me, his eyes cold and sad at the same time. “Care to have a chat?”

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But when I heard Poppy talking and River sniffling, something in my gut just told me to stay put, to give them their privacy for a minute. I had been workin’ hard all goddamn morning to get off in time to see River before she went to the bar. She didn’t know I was going to make it over here today, but I wanted to see her.

And then I heard it. I heard her call herself a shitty person. I heard her say how she left me all alone. I heard Poppy say that she went back to the city. Which means River was here. River showed up for Addie and then left without a single word to me or my family.

That little spot in the back of my brain that’s been telling me something was wrong…turns out it was right.

“Did you hear everything, then?” Her voice is small and quiet. She’s barely looking at me as we walk out into the nearby field.

“I don’t know, River. You tell me.”

We come to a stop next to the fence, and she tries to look anywhere but at me. She’s chewing on her lips, and her arms are crossed over her chest. She looks like a kid who got in trouble at school and now has to tell their parents all about it. Meanwhile, I’m trying my hardest not to fall apart. My gut reaction is to scream or walk away without letting her explain.

But there’s a part of me that feels like I owe her this. I asked her to stop runnin’ from me, and I promised myself I’d never react like I did all those years ago. So, I’m trying. I am trying to stand here and listen to her, get the facts straight, instead of lashing out.

“I didn’t know Addie was sick,” she starts. “I mean, I knew she was sick, obviously. She was sick her whole life. But I didn’t know she was that sick. I was walking out of a final, where I obviously had my phone turned off. And when I turned it back on, I had a missed call from Mom about twenty minutes before. Alarm bells started going off because Mom never calls me. Ever.

“I called her back three goddamn times before she picked up the phone. She sounded…bored. Like she couldn’t care less that Addie had died or that my best friend had just lost his sister. She was just calling to tell me about the funeral, and how pretty it was, and how sad everyone seemed that I wasn’t there.”

She sniffs and coughs, and as she’s wiping her eyes, it takes all the restraint I have not to pull her into my chest and wipe those tears away from her. But my mind and heart are raging at each other right now, confused and hurt, and I have no clue what to do as she stands here and confesses this secret she’s been holding on to.

“It was late afternoon at this point,” she tells me. “I ran across campus, jumped in a taxi, and went straight home. I think I blacked out in sheer panic and grief. I was throwing whatever clothes were on hand into a duffel bag and left. I drove straight here, Hayes.”

The tears are flowing steadily now, making her blue eyes look darker. She reaches out for me, and as a gut reaction, I take a step back. I regret it, but I can’t have her touching me right now. I just can’t. Not when I know where this is going. Not when I know she abandoned me.

“I pulled into the driveway on two wheels and ran out of my car. I didn’t even knock on your parents’ door. The lights were on inside, so I just…barged in. It was late, but everyone was up, gathered around the fire in the living room. I was a blubbering mess, apologizing over and over again for not being there, for their loss.”

“And then you left?” I ask her. “Just thought, oh, fuck Hayes. He’ll be fine.”

“No!” she cries out and goes to grab me again, but I step away. “Not at all. I was asking about you, but everyone said you had run off after the funeral.”

Christ, did I? I guess I did. I don’t remember a lot from that first week we lost her. I was too drunk to care about anything but the grief I was processing. Or trying to process. My poor liver probably wanted to kill me. But I just can’t imagine not remembering River showing up. That seems huge. Sure, I had dreams about her. Drunken dreams that started with me begging for her forgiveness and ended with her in my arms as we cried together.

“I came to find you.” Her voice has gone soft again, and she’s finally really looking at me. “They said you were at Bill’s bar and that Rhett and Wells had tried to get you to come home, but you wouldn’t budge. Too stubborn, drunk, and sad to be coherent. When I found you, you were slumped against the wall outside, head hung over. You were passed out cold next to a pile of vomit.

“I slapped you around a bit to wake you up, and we somehow managed to get you in my Jeep. Only had to stop twice for you to vomit.” She tries to laugh. “Anyway, your brothers and your dad got you set up in bed.”