I open my eyes and look at Eden one more time. I take her all in, this beautiful girl in front of me. How am I supposed to just forget everything that has happened this summer? How do I pretend that there is nothing between us? I have to . . . I have to let her go, and I just don’t know how I can ever bring myself to do that. My gaze rests on those plump lips of hers that had me weak at the knees from the very first moment I laid eyes on them. I find myself instinctively leaning closer toward her. I am dying to kiss her, just one last time.
Suddenly, Eden climbs over the center console and swings herself onto my lap. I sense her gulp as she places her warm hands against the skin of my neck, and my eyes never leave hers until she gently presses her lips to mine.
If this is to be the last time I ever get to kiss her, then I’m making it count. My hands are on her waist, pulling her against me so that she’s pressed hard against my chest. I kiss her so slowly. I’m scared I’ll miss something. I love the way her mouth feels against mine and I kiss her over and over again until the feeling is ingrained in my mind forever. I never want to let go, and I don’t think she does, either. Her hands are cupping my face as her thumbs softly skim over my jaw. She kisses me back just as delicately, like the kiss is fragile and sacred. But that’s because it is.
I can’t hold onto her forever, though. It takes everything in me to muster up the strength to pull away from her, and I can’t bite back the small groan that escapes me. My eyes are still closed and Eden’s hands are still on my jaw. I sense her move in closer to me again, the soft skin of her cheek brushing against mine. It feels so nice having her in my arms, and we remain entwined in one another for the longest of moments.
“Stepsiblings,” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear. “Nothing more.”
“Nothing more,” I murmur. I tilt my head down as Eden climbs back over into the passenger seat. All I want is to kiss her again already, to feel her skin against my own, to tell her that I love her. But I just can’t find the words. I am destroyed, and there is nothing I can say to change any of this.
I can’t look at her as she leaves, either. I rest my hands on my steering wheel and turn to face my window, watching the rain again. It’s grown even heavier. When Eden opens the car door, all I can hear is the thundering of the rain hitting the ground. A few seconds later, the door slams shut, and when I look over, she is gone.
My chest aches as I watch her run across the lawn, back toward the house, but I can’t stare after her for long. It hurts too much to watch her leave like this, so I yank on my seatbelt and finally leave too. I pull out of Tiffani’s driveway, and despite how badly I want to just slam on the gas and take off, I can’t because of the rain. I’m forced to crawl down the street, huddled over my steering wheel, grabbing it so tightly that my knuckles turn pale.
I glance in my rearview mirror, and I know I shouldn’t have. I can still see Eden. She is standing on Tiffani’s lawn, watching me leave, but she is out of focus amid the rain. She is shrinking and shrinking into the distance behind me. When she disappears completely, I finally break down.
The road ahead is blurry but not because of the rain. My lower lip is trembling, I’m pulling at my hair with one hand, my breathing shallow. Every single piece of my life has been shattered. I thought I was broken before, but now I am unfixable. I feel so lost, so alone. There is only one person I need right now, only one person that I know I can always turn to, and that’s Mom.
I drive home for the first time all week, battling the treacherous rain and fighting back my tears. My life is in ruins, and now I’ve lost the girl who cared about me. The girl who listened to me. The girl who made me believe that maybe I could be okay. The girl I was prepared to be better for. She’s gone, and now I don’t know what the point is anymore. I was finally making progress, finally willing to make better decisions to fix my life, but now it feels like I am all the way back at square one again. No purpose, no motives, no goals.
Mom’s Range Rover is parked up on the drive when I get home. Quickly, I pull up behind her and throw open my door, stepping out into the rain. My chest is rising and falling with each deep breath I take as I squint at the house, letting the rain wash over me, soaking my hair and rolling down my face. I need Mom so much.
I run across the lawn, but she must have already noticed me pulling up, because the front door swings open just as I’m reaching it. Mom is blurry through my tears, but she still radiates warmth, love. She means everything to me. She has watched me ruin my life right in front of her eyes, but she has always been there for me, and I have never needed her reassurance that everything will be okay more than I do now. Nothing seems like it ever will be.
“Tyler,” she whispers, and I collapse straight into her arms, bringing the rain into the house with me, soaking her.
“Mom,” I sob against her shoulder. I’m squeezing her so tight, holding onto her with everything in me. My knees are growing weak. I can’t open my eyes, I am crying too hard. I am shaking uncontrollably in her arms, my chest tightening, my heart thumping. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and she holds me even tighter, her sobs matching mine.
I’m sorry that I let her down. I’m sorry that I’ve made so many mistakes. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be enough for Eden. I’m sorry for everything.
And in that moment, I make a single promise to myself. To my friends. To my brothers. To Mom. To Eden.
I promise I am going to do better.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all of my amazing readers for being such enthusiastic cheerleaders for Tyler and Eden’s story and for following their journey for so long. Your support always means the world to me.
Thanks to the team at Black & White Publishing for being my absolute dream publisher. You’re the best people to work with and I’m grateful to all of you. Thank you for being so supportive of my idea to write Tyler’s story.
Thank you to Emma Ferrier for being my writerly partner-in-crime and for always listening to my ideas despite how much I ramble on about them. Also thank you to Rachael Lamb, Olivia Matthews, Milly Shimmin and Jess Cook for your endless support.
And thank you to my mum and dad for continuing to support and encourage me as I live out my dream. I love you both so much.
“I know I can’t tell anyone. Ever.”
Tyler is the victim of serious physical abuse inflicted by his father. As well as his wounds, Tyler suffers the mental anguish of keeping the abuse secret. Later, in his teenage years, Tyler is still wary of talking through the impact of his father’s actions on his own mental health.
We would like readers of Just Don’t Mention It to know that free, confidential help and advice are always available. Like Tyler, you might not find it easy, but please don’t be afraid to ask for help if you are affected by the issues explored in this book.
The following helplines offer free advice, help and support and will listen to you in confidence.
Childline
Call 0800 1111 or log on to childline.org to talk confidentially to an online counsellor 24/7.
Samaritans
Call 116 123, or you can drop in to a walk-in centre or email a listener. You don’t have to be feeling suicidal to contact them; you can just talk about how you feel.
NSPCC
Call 0808 800 5000 to talk to a helpline counsellor 24/7.
Domestic Violence Helpline
Call 0808 2000 247 to talk to a helpline counsellor 24/7.
Estelle Maskame, Just Don't Mention It
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