“Jesus.” I throw my hands up. “Why are you being such an ass? I thought we were friends. Friends tell each other if they’re going to be gone that way people don’t think they’re trapped in a ditch somewhere hurt. I’m so sorry for worrying about you. I’ll try not to give a shit next time.”
Starting to walk away, I hear him curse before calling out to me. “Stop. I’m just … shit, I’m tired. I didn’t mean to snap. I don’t know how to do the friends thing.”
That halts me. “You have Jay.”
“Yeah, well I haven’t slept with him.”
I cringe, slowly turning to face him again. My palm rests on the doorjamb. “I can see where that puts us in an awkward situation. That doesn’t mean I can’t care about you.”
He just rubs the back of his neck.
“You’re right, though. You don’t owe me any explanations about where you’re going or who you’re going with,” I relent softly. “If it came off that way, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” His eyes stay locked on my face in wait. “Danny died leaving my apartment. Car accident. I didn’t know until Mable called me because the hospital contacted her to identify the body.”
Another curse escapes his lips. “I didn’t know that.”
I shrug. “We don’t know each other,” is all I offer him, smiling the best I can. “I just want you to know that I want to be friends. If that’s too weird, I get it. How we left things the other day was… It sucked, honestly. I won’t push for anything that makes you uncomfortable though.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“You were angry with me,” I murmur.
“More like myself,” he mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear. But I don’t think he meant me to. He clears his throat and sits on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and looks around the room. “I was in the system until I was eighteen. Never got adopted. Never found a good home. I don’t have family worth putting in frames and displaying anywhere. Jay and I don’t really get pictures together, and he’s the only one I have. Besides you.”
He says the last part so quietly it’s almost full of uncertainty. It doesn’t take long for that to fall from his features, as if the hesitation of our status never crossed his mind.
I give him a sad look. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“If you ever want to talk about it…”
He shakes his head. “The past is the past, Piper. There’s a reason I don’t dwell on it. Some things can’t be changed. That’s life. I know I’m lucky even if I never got adopted or given a chance. I was never beaten, neglected, starved, or abused like so many others in the system are. I’ve heard some awful shit and accepted that getting out unscathed is nothing short of a miracle. That’s all that matters. All that needs to be said.”
Rubbing my upper arm, I manage to nod even if I don’t agree. That has to weigh on his conscience even if he pretends it doesn’t. “Do you mind me asking about your birth parents?”
“I don’t know much about them.”
“You’ve never tried asking?”
His eyes darken as he scrubs a palm down the side of his face, the muscles in his arm flexing from the movement. “I was told they were young when they abandoned me on the steps of a church for a pastor to find the following morning. I was cold, struggling to breathe, and had to be in the hospital for a month to recover before social workers came and took me away. They were never found. I never asked.”
I can see why he wouldn’t. Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions if you don’t want the answers. Then again, I’ve always been the opposite. “You don’t think you’ll ever wonder?”
“Piper.” He sighs heavily. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever wonder why they gave me up. They did for whatever reasons they felt were justified and it’s over with. I’m content with my life. Why would I disrupt that?”
My mind instantly goes to the conversation I had with Carter in his office. “You shouldn’t have to settle with contentment. Listen, you obviously do what’s best for you. I’ll back you no matter what because that’s what friends do. But if you ever feel the need to talk, just know I’m here.”