⁀➴ 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚋𝚏!𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚡 𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚊!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
⁀➴ 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜
Something you learned early on from your mom was to keep your finances separate.
“You never know when you’ll need to pick up and leave. I love your father, but I won’t risk it all for him.”
That always stuck with you.
It wasn’t like you were ever in a situation with a man where you were talking about bank accounts.
Always have a separate one.
You weren’t going to allow yourself to drown beneath your comforter, with the only company being the crumbs from the chips you’d eaten or whatever reality show happened to be on that day. That would’ve gone against everything you were.
You were strong-willed. Resilient. Independent.
But instead, you found your arm snaking out from beneath the blankets, your mind almost willing it to stretch farther.
Far enough to reach the basement.
Far enough to reach the scrapbooks your mom kept.
You wanted to see him again.
The way his eyes creased when he laughed.
You found yourself getting angry.
Especially angry at yourself.
You hadn’t felt this kind of catastrophic heartbreak since you were a teenager. Back then, everything felt like life or death. Your heart would pound so hard you swore it was going to beat out of your chest. Your vision would blur.
You felt ridiculous for it.
You weren’t even dating Chris.
He had felt like a safe place.
Maybe you were lucky to feel something this deeply again.
Maybe, you thought, you should thank Chris for that.
For reminding you that you were alive.
Alive in Richmond, Virginia.
Alive and young and able.
You hadn’t spoken to Chris in over a week. He didn’t come around the house, didn’t come over for dinner anymore, or offer to help your dad with projects around the house. If your dad saw him, it was because your dad went to him.
It was clear to you that Chris had made his choice. You’d overhear your dad telling your mom how torn up Chris was over Marissa. It made you sick.
You knew you didn’t deserve to feel this way. Marissa didn’t deserve the white-hot heat that spread through your chest every time her name was mentioned. Of course Chris would pick her over you.
You had a choice, too, though. You didn’t have to live in the shadows of a woman you didn’t know. You didn’t have to feel like a young, stupid girl.
You refused to forget it.
The Virginia sun feels good on your back.
Maybe it wasn’t Chris who made the sun feel so good.
Maybe the sun shone the same no matter what.
Maymont Park was a place Chris had mentioned once. He’d said he’d take you there someday. It had been in passing, but you’d remembered. You’d looked it up that night when you got home and spent far too long scrolling through pictures of gardens and walking trails.
You’d been excited to see it with him.
It was much bigger than you’d imagined, and he hadn’t been lying.
You make yourself at home on a grassy little spot underneath a tree.
You watch a father on the phone talking to his daughter. You can tell he hasn’t seen her in a while.
Maybe she’s away at college.
Maybe she moved away and started a family of her own.
A woman sits on a bench throwing breadcrumbs to pigeons, despite the signs that clearly say:
A girl sits alone on a blanket like you. Headphones over her ears, a tattered copy of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus resting in her lap.
You wonder if she’s here for the same reason you are.
Maybe she’s trying to find herself again, too.
Maybe you’re both just doing the best you can.
Chris holds his phone in one hand, one eye still closed against the morning sun spilling through the curtains.
“How long can hangovers actually last?”
He knows hangovers don’t last an entire week, no matter how old you are. But he can’t shake the feeling. The looming dread. The shaky hands. The upset stomach that won’t go away, no matter how much antacid he chews.
He could admit something to himself.
Stop looking at it from the corner of his eye.
Chris still had all the same things.
The same booth at the diner.
But something was different.
You weren’t in the passenger seat anymore, talking entirely too loud even though you were sitting right beside him.
He wasn’t wiping mud off your legs after you’d wiped out because he’d forgotten to check the weather.
You’d laughed so hard that day your stomach hurt.
Then you spent the rest of the drive making fun of him for not checking the forecast.
You weren’t ordering a milkshake and fries, trying to convince him to dip them together.
Chris knows he’s not lonely. Not technically.
He knows practically the entire town. He could call up just about any buddy of his to go fishing or head down to the lake with a cigar and a beer.
But it had been nice having you.
He hadn’t really let anyone in like that.
Chris knows this was for the best.
That phrase repeated over and over until he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to form any other words.
Nothing about the situation had been ideal. Falling for his best friend’s daughter, a woman fifteen years younger than him.
He owed your dad more than he could ever repay. He wasn’t sure he would’ve survived Marissa leaving if it hadn’t been for him.
He was doing the right thing.
But one word kept creeping back into his head.
Your face didn’t even change.
You’d said it like it didn’t cost you anything.
Like you didn’t care that he was ending whatever this was.
You lit up every single room you walked into.
You had so much more life to live.
A loud knock at the door startles Chris.
He’d promised your dad he’d help him change the oil in his truck. Your dad’s back had been bothering him lately. He couldn’t bend the way he used to.
Chris might’ve been miserable, but he wasn’t about to leave a friend hanging.
He lets out a humorless laugh as he pushes himself off the couch.
Wouldn’t leave a friend hanging…
But he’d kissed his daughter.
He catches his reflection in the hallway mirror.
Hopefully, that’s all anyone else sees.
Hopefully, no one can tell you’ve been the thing keeping him awake.
“Hey, man.” Chris’s smile is tight.
“Truck’s by the garage.” Your dad jerks his head toward the driveway. “‘Preciate you doin’ this for me.”
Chris follows him outside. “‘Course. You know I never mind helpin’ an old man out.”
“Watch it.” Your dad laughs. “You’re gettin’ up there too.”
Chris smirks, rolling his eyes as he starts laying out his tools.
“Haven’t seen ya around in a while, Chris.”
Chris slides the oil pan beneath the truck and loosens the drain plug with his wrench.
“Saw you leave with Marissa after the wedding. Not sayin’ it’s my business, man… I just…”
“I don’t know. You haven’t been actin’ right.”
Chris slides out from under the truck.
He rubs the back of his neck.
Your dad studies him for a long moment.
Your dad claps Chris on the shoulder, looking relieved.
Chris goes back to work beneath the truck, checking the oil filter before reaching for the fresh oil. He hopes your dad doesn’t notice the way his hands shake.
Or how he can’t seem to look him in the eye.
“My kid’s doin’ good, too.”
Chris’s wrench stills for half a second.
“Mm-hm.” Your dad smiles. “She’s finally gettin’ out there. Meetin’ people. Seems a lot happier than when she first moved.”
“Think you helped with that, honestly.”
Your dad's hands should be around his neck.
He shouldn’t be here thanking him.
“She, uh… she seein’ anybody?”
Chris can’t help himself.
“Oh, you know…” He chuckles. “I don’t get involved with any of that stuff.”
He wipes his hands on an old rag.
“Can’t think about that shit. She’s still my little girl.”
The quiet settles back in as your dad’s truck disappears down the driveway.
He should be able to breathe now.
Everything was working itself out.
Your dad didn’t suspect a thing.
You’re exploring the town he first introduced you to.
You’re happy without him.
Chris listens to your dad tell a story he’s heard a hundred times while he flips burgers.
His neighbor throws this picnic every year and invites practically the entire neighborhood. It’s not like Chris could’ve skipped it. He lived a few houses down.
Someone would’ve knocked on his door.
Someone always needed help with the grill.
He listens as people shout their orders at him.
“Y’all got any Beyond burgers?”
“The fuck’s a Beyond burger?”
Chris adjusts his baseball cap, scratching at his scalp as sweat trickles down his temples.
He’d asked your dad where you were.
Don’t know if she’s comin’.
Well, you have to know because my sanity depends on it.
Chris can finally feel his shoulders begin to relax.
He feels his feet on the ground again.
His head turns before he even realizes he’s looking for you.
He spots you immediately.
You’re making your way toward him.
Your dad was standing right beside him.
A smile spreads across his face before he can stop it.
Chris’s smile disappears almost immediately.
A man falls into step beside you, reaching for the cooler you’re carrying.
His head turns toward your dad.
“Oh yeah,” your dad says with a shrug. “She mentioned maybe bringin’ a friend if she stopped by.”
Chris feels like his stomach drops.
“Hey, Dad!” You lean in to hug your dad before meeting Chris's eyes. “Chris,” He watches you give him a polite nod like you’re strangers. “Uh, this is Miles. Figured one more person here wouldn’t hurt.”
Miles extends a hand toward your dad before offering Chris the same polite smile.
“Good to meet ya, son.” Your dad gives Miles a rough shake.
“Seems a little early for ‘son,’” Chris mumbles.
He rubs the back of his neck.
“Hungry? I could throw somethin’ on the grill.”
“Oh, no.” You wave him off with a smile. “We’re good. We already ate.”
“Alright, well, we’re gonna go find a table.”
Chris watches as Miles leads you toward a picnic table beneath one of the big oak trees.
You’re still carrying that damn cooler.
He turns back to the grill.
He thinks he’s sweating even worse now.
“So…” Chris flips a burger. “You know this Miles character?”
“Nah.” Your dad shakes his head. “The kid’s mentioned him once or twice, but that’s about all I know.”
“Hm.” Chris nods, trying to sound casual. “So… this is new then?”
“Must be.” Your dad reaches over and steals a hot dog off the grill. “Gotta hit the bathroom.”
Chris watches him disappear before turning another burger.
His eyes drift back to you anyway.
Chris knew he was attractive, too.
But it wasn’t about that.
It was the way his knees ached when he climbed out of bed some mornings.
The reading glasses sitting in the center console of his truck.
The gray hair he swore multiplied every time he looked in the mirror.
This was the right choice.
Miles could keep up with you.
Miles wasn’t your dad’s best friend.
This was the right choice.
You’d only met him a couple of days ago on some dating app, trying to get yourself back out there.
You figured there wasn’t a safer place for a first date than surrounded by half the town.
You didn’t completely trust men.
Miles hadn’t questioned it.
You allowed yourself to pretend to be surprised when you walked in and saw Chris standing by the grill in his khaki shorts, baseball cap, and those fucking white sneakers.
Of course Chris would be there.
You could admit something to yourself.
Maybe a small part of you had wanted him to see you with someone else.
To show him you weren’t just some soft girl waiting around for him.
You watch Miles’s mouth move, but you aren’t really hearing him.
Your eyes keep drifting back to Chris at the grill.
Those stupid white sneakers.
You tear your gaze away every time it wanders.
It’s hard to keep it on Miles.
“So, yeah, I grew up with three sisters.”
You should probably say something.
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “I’m an only child. It’s been all about me since I can remember.”
He keeps talking as the sun beats down on your back, but you can’t focus.
You don’t want to be rude.
Your eyes drift back to him.
He’s looking at you like he expects you to laugh.
Maybe a little louder than you normally would.
Maybe you glance over his shoulder to see if Chris heard.
“Food’s ready!” your dad hollers.
“I’m actually gonna grab something.” You stand from the picnic table. “I’m hungrier than I thought.”
Miles follows behind you.
Chris is handing out everyone’s food with that smile.
“Change your mind?” His eyebrows raise.
“Uh, yeah, I’m a little hungry.”
“Ain’t feedin’ her enough, Mike?”
Miles laughs and shakes his head. “Guilty.”
“Cheeseburger, right? No ketchup, just mustard, yeah?”
You don’t remember telling him that.
A hand reaches into your line of sight, holding a paper plate toward Chris.
Your eyes follow the arm upward.
And you swear the color drains from your face.
“How is it I haven’t seen you in years, and now you’re everywhere, Marissa?”
Chris’s lips twitch into a smile.
You aren’t hungry anymore.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Marissa smiles. “You could consider yourself lucky.”
She sounds sure of herself.
She sounds like the kind of woman who wouldn’t bring a first date to a neighborhood picnic hoping to make a man jealous.
“Lucky,” Chris laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah… that’s one way of lookin’ at it.”
He drops the hot dog onto Marissa’s plate.
You turn so quickly you’re surprised your burger doesn’t slide right off your plate.
You hate that you can still see them talking.
You hate that your mom and dad slip so easily into conversation with her, standing beside Chris like no time has passed at all.
Like she’d always belonged there.
“Everything okay?” Miles asks around a mouthful of food.
For so long, this was what Chris thought he wanted.
Everyone back in the same place.
Where he thought they belonged.
But every conversation around him sounded muffled now.
He had to keep dragging himself back into them, piecing together what people were saying from the last few words he’d managed to catch.
Seeing Marissa again had brought back memories.
He couldn’t have cared less.
He knows he’s over Marissa.
He’d known it that night at the wedding.
He almost feels bad thinking it.
But he wishes she’d stop talking.
Across the yard, you were picking apart your burger.
You’d barely said two words to Miles in the last few minutes.
“Who wants to play cornhole?” Someone shouts from the yard.
Chris doesn’t know who says it.
He’s just thankful that people are starting to clear out.
Maybe he’ll get a chance to clear his head.
Your parents excuse themselves to play, but Marissa stays behind.
“No, don’t really feel like it tonight.” Marissa sighs, flopping down in a seat near the grill.
Chris decides to sit, too. Too tired to play.
He watches you and Miles make your way toward the grass.
Miles’s hand settles at the small of your back.
Like you couldn’t find the yard that was ten feet in front of you.
Marissa glances across the lawn.
"Is that his daughter?" She gestures toward your dad before nodding in your direction.
Chris scratches at his stubble.
“She’s a pretty girl.” Marissa takes a sip of her beer.
He doesn’t know how to respond.
What would be an appropriate response to that?
“Yeah… she’s uh… she’s a good kid.”
Chris’ attention drifts back toward the lawn.
Marissa follows his gaze and then looks back at him.
“‘Yeah, ‘m fine.” Chris’s eyes meet Marissa’s again.
Marissa stands up from the lawn chair and pats his shoulder.
Marissa wanders off toward the house, and Chris lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and rubs a hand over his face.
Chris’ eyes drift up, and of course, it’s your car.
He doesn’t have to get up and help.
“Fuck,” You stand there, cooler in your hand, and Miles at your side. “Swear to god, I’m like always having issues with this car.” You bend down, to inspect the tire. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m even getting home on that.”
Your dad walks over now. “God kid, I swear you drive the shit outta this car. Gotta be a spare in here,” he grunts as he opens up the trunk, pulling out the donut.
“Miles, you mind changing this? I would, but I've been having trouble with my back.” Your dad says.
“Actually, I don’t know how to change a tire.” Miles shrugs.
Chris is walking over before he can stop himself.
Cursing himself with every single step.
“You don’t know how to change a tire?” Chris scoffs suddenly behind Miles.
“I usually just call roadside.”
“You call roadside for a flat tire?”
“Shouldn’t be takin’ her anywhere if you can’t get her home.” Chris bends down and gestures at your dad for the donut and the jack.
“I’ll just take this opportunity to learn.” Miles laughs lightly, clearly embarrassed.
“Nothin’ funny here, bud.”
“Chris.” You say through gritted teeth.
“Alright, let’s cut the guy some slack.” Your dad shifts awkwardly.
Chris changes the tire in silence.
Nobody seems able to put their finger on why.
Chris stands up, brushing his hands off on his jeans, and his eyes meet yours.
“Give me the cooler.” He gestures to you.
He simply takes the cooler from your hands.
He turns and places it into Miles’s arms.
“Nice to meet ya, Mike,” he says before walking off.
“Thought your name was Miles?” Your dad turns his head towards Miles.
“It is…” Miles squeaks, arms around the cooler, not as confident as before.
Chris walks back toward the picnic, dragging a hand over his face.
Chris tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter before making his way to the sink.
He scrubs the grease from his hands, staring at the water as it disappears down the drain.
But what was he supposed to do?
He couldn’t just stand there pretending it was alright that Mike—
Didn’t know how to change a tire.
What if it happened in the middle of the night?
He needed to know you’d be safe.
That you were with someone who could take care of you.
Making sure you were safe.
Maybe he had crossed a line, but he couldn’t help it.
It was like he was making decisions before even thinking.
He’d been doing it for weeks.
Getting jealous over some random guy.
Causing a scene at a neighborhood picnic.
Chris looks over at his phone lying on his kitchen counter.
He wipes his hands on his dish towel.
Miles seemed visibly embarrassed on the ride home.
Confused by Chris’s behavior.
“So… was that your uncle or something?”
Which somehow pissed you off even more.
That wouldn’t even make sense.
Was this guy really looking at Chris and thinking he could be your uncle?
And he didn’t know how to change a tire.
Maybe you were looking for a reason not to like him.
Or maybe you were just angry.
Maybe being sweet wasn't enough.
If you decided you weren’t interested in Miles…
Chris had absolutely nothing to do with it.
You flop backward onto your bed.
Your phone buzzes beneath your pillow.
You reach underneath it and pull your phone free.
You have to read the screen twice.
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎… i don't know why this part was so incredibly hard for me to write so i really hope u guys find it fulfilling enough !! so interested in who we hate more... marissa or miles? 🤨 also, wanted to mention that i am training a new provider within my long stretch at work for the upcoming week. so there is a chance i won't be able to update as frequently!
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