Page 153 of True Blue

“Everything,” I frowned. “But above all, she loves me.”

Lily tilted her head. “That’s it?”

“That’s all there is, Lily,” I smiled, once again thinking of Indie. “It’s one word, but it sums up everything. She listens to me, she cares for me, she holds me, she feeds me, she respects me, she honors me. That’s everything.”

“Well, you deserve that, and more!” Lily chirped before pouting. “I wish I had that.”

Lily’s hopeful eyes lit up when I reached a hand out to her, and her smile brightened for one brief moment, until it dropped when I patted her shoulder twice.

“You’ll find someone out there for you.”

Her smile cracked for a moment before she fixed it.

“Yeah,” Lily smiled. “Someone.”

“You really didn’t understand that she was jealous?” Indie asks, brow raised. “That she was being petty because she wanted to be with you?”

“I guess I did,” I frown, thinking back to all of those times. “But I just didn’t really care because I love you. I had you. Why would I look at anyone else?”

“And yet you probably spent more time with her during those months than you did with me,” Indie scoffs. “This is what’s so fucking confusing for me, Teddy. You say you love me, but you didn’t show it. You did the little things. But defending me? Setting boundaries with your mother? Setting boundaries with your ex-girlfriend? No, too hard. I need to be more considerate of their feelings—fuck my feelings, though!”

She paces back and forth in front of me, hands flexing into fists and then releasing. She does it again and again, and I know it’s a calming thing for her. I sink deeper and deeper as I watch her work through everything in her mind.

“I’m a doctor; I understand compassion. I’m a fucking oncologist! I’m around death every day,” she spits those words at me, throwing them back in my face.

I squeeze my eyes shut in shame, in pain, remembering those stupid fucking words I said.

“Yeah, don’t think I forgot about those words too. Jerk.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, because it’s the only thing I can say through my tight throat. “I’m sorry, Indie.”

“Why did you even say that to me—wait, no, let me guess—” she holds up her hand and smiles wryly. “Your mother said it, so it just fell out of your mouth.”

I nod, not denying it. I’m not going to make amends by denying and excusing myself.

“I work around cancer patients; I understand grief. And I’ve seen just about every variation there is for grief. What your mother was feeling was not grief, maybe for a little, but I bet she was so fucking relieved that the barrier of Ellie was gone. Because after Ellie died, you…”

“I became the worst version of myself,” I say simply as shame punches me. “And I excused it by saying it was for noble reasons like being there for my mother during her grief. I was a coward, Indie. I was weak. I was scared. I was grieving, but it’s not all about my mother or me. You were grieving too.”

Indie sobs, and the sound is like it’s tearing itself out of her. Like she’s been desperately trying to hold it back. Instantly, my blood goes cold because I can count the number of times I’ve seen Indie cry on one hand. But this is different. I watch as tears track down Indie’s cheek, and she turns away from me, scrubbing it harshly. Like she’s mad at herself for breaking.

I clench my hand into a fist to keep from reaching out to brush it away for her.

“I think that I see you as this unbreakable force,” I rasp, frowning as I work through my thoughts. Dr. Meyer said this would happen sometimes, a moment of clarity that accumulates over time until you can see things clearly. “You are so strong and capable. When you talked about your parents and leaving them, I think maybe I felt small compared to you. I was an electrician, and I hated it. I felt true happiness when I was drawing, but trapped because my parents would never let me pursue it.”

Indie sniffs and turns toward me, her eyes meeting mine again.

“Then I met you, and I felt that same feeling I get when I draw. Just happy. Calm. Capable. You made me believe in myself. I put you on this tall pedestal, and I punished you for being so strong by assuming you would be okay with or without me. I wasn’t giving you the emotional outlet that you needed. I was spent by the end of the day because I was using it all on my mother, on Lily.”

Anger slams into me then, anger at myself, at my cowardice.

“And for what? For two women who never gave me the same energy. But you… you gave me everything, Indie. All I did was take and take from you. And you still gave, lovingly, willingly, happily. You deserved better than what I gave you.”

Long silence follows my words; Indie’s tears track steadily down her cheeks. Those shimmering true blue eyes stay on me, and I drink it like a man dying of thirst. Expressions flicker over her face, too quick for me to grab onto, but I keep my eyes on hers.

Terror swells in my chest at the admission that I do not deserve her, because it is true. I do not deserve Indie. She is too good for me. And I think maybe I was terrified all along that she would wake up and see that.

“I felt so fucking drained those months. Those were the worst months of my life. I didn’t give a fuck about my parents—losing them was nothing. They promised me nothing and gave me the bare minimum,” Indie says, shaking her head and blowing harshly out her nose. “But you… you promised me forever, and then ripped it away. That was…”