“But . . .” He paused, frowning. “What about Poppy?”
I was expecting that question. When I said her name, I’d come to terms with telling him the truth about her. Hearing him say her name hadn’t pained me. I was okay with it. She was a part of me now too. I wanted to share her with Gunner. I’d not wanted that before.
“She’s dead.” Those were words I had refused to say for a very long time. They had gotten stuck in my throat, and the sobbing would begin when I even tried.
“Oh God,” he whispered. “How?”
This was the part I hated to say. The part that I wished to God I never had to tell. It was why I was destroyed. Why my soul would never be the same. That night had changed us forever. But it had been the following week when Poppy had died that made life unbearable. I’d understood why she’d done it. If I had been her, maybe I would have needed to do it too. Could she have survived if she hadn’t taken the easy way out? I’d never know. The agony she had to endure would break anyone. But it hadn’t just broken Poppy. It had ended her. She hadn’t been strong enough to handle the repercussions of our stupidity.
Lifting my gaze from the worn cover of the book in my hands, I forced myself to look at Gunner as I said the words. They would spike through me as I said them. They always did. However, it was her story. One I wouldn’t forget or ignore.
“She took her life.”
I’m Not Really a Lawton
CHAPTER 21
GUNNER
Holy shit. The words sounded calm as she spoke them, but the look in her eyes made it seem as if they had been torn from her chest. Pain so intense it darkened the color of her blue eyes, making them almost black, as if her pupils had dilated, taking on the darkness of what she was saying.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. I would have never asked if I’d known the answer. I didn’t understand how life could be so bad that anyone would want to end theirs. Things sucked but they passed and eventually they got better. You just had to hang in there and make it through. But I wasn’t going to verbalize my belief to Willa. I had never known anyone who had taken their life. I didn’t know what that felt like.
Obviously, from the expression on her face and depth of sorrow evident in her eyes, it wasn’t something I ever wanted to know. I sure as hell wasn’t asking any more questions about it. I wondered if I was the first person she’d told this to.
Was this why she had left Arkansas? To escape this reality. If one of my friends offed themselves, I’d probably need to leave too. But I wasn’t sure where I’d go. Willa had a past to return to. All I’d known was Lawton.
The fact she’d shared this with me was big for her. I could hear it in her voice. She trusted me. Just like when we were kids. She knew I’d keep her secrets safe. Having her back made me feel less alone. Brady wasn’t the same. Willa had always been the one I trusted above everyone.
“She didn’t feel like she had another choice. I understand, even if I grieve for the loss of my friend every day.”
The finality of what she had said was clear. She had told me all she was going to tell me, and I wondered why she had even given me that much if it hurt her so badly to talk about it.
We sat in silence for several minutes. Both lost in our own thoughts, and in a way it seemed this was a moment of respect for a life cut off too short. For whatever reasons.
“That’s what haunts my eyes,” Willa said finally. “What haunts yours?”
What haunted mine? What did she mean by that? No one ever asked me about my secrets. I didn’t appear to be shouldering any. At least it hadn’t been mentioned before.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, even though the words didn’t sound truthful as I said them.
She studied me a moment; the solemn expression on her face made me feel like squirming in my seat. As if she could read my thoughts and words weren’t even needed.
“If that’s what you want,” she said simply.
Aggravated by the confusing turn of this conversation, I tried to remind myself not to snap at her. She’d just told me her best friend killed herself. Remaining calm, I replied, “What do you mean if that’s what I want?”
“I know pain, and I recognize it when I see it in someone else’s gaze. Your eyes speak for you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”
Well, fuck.
I couldn’t continue looking at her, or I’d blurt out everything I never wanted anyone to know. Focusing on the view out the window just over her right shoulder was easier. I could get my head back together and think this through. Telling anyone this was making me vulnerable. Even telling Willa. But I wanted to. Needed to say it, and there was no one else on this earth I trusted to say it to. That had to mean something. Was this just friendship? Was it me wanting what we had as kids? Or did I feel more?
My throat got tight just as the pressure began to ease from my chest.
“My father isn’t my father. I’m not really a Lawton.” The words exploded out of me as if the need to release them had a mind of its own.
Willa didn’t looked shocked or horrified when I shot my gaze back to meet hers. There was also no pity in them. I hadn’t wanted pity.
“That makes sense. You’re not a coldhearted bastard.” The casual way she said that made a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I’d just told this girl my darkest secret, and she was making me smile.
“How did you find out?” she asked as if she had already known.
“I overheard my parents fighting when I was twelve. Shortly after you left. My dad hasn’t been able to get an erection since Rhett was a baby. He had prostate cancer, and although surgery cleared him of it, his prostate was no more.”