Everything in Between

Chapter 21

Present Day

The sound of horns honking and the low-frequency hum of New York City drifts through my open window. I'm back at my apartment in New York after the whirlwind of time I spent cleaning Mom's house in Michigan. I am emotionally and physically exhausted from everything that happened there, and I lay on my sofa, stretched out on my side, a blanket barely covering my body.

While I was away, Tom repeatedly called and texted, asking when I would be back in New York so he could drop off my belongings. After everything Darla told me, I was finding it hard to want to respond to Tom in fear of how I would react when I saw him. When my plane landed, I bravely texted Tom and told him I was home and he could come by anytime. We planned for him to stop by this evening on his way home from work.

I'm a mess of emotions, knowing I am about to confront him and finally hear the truth. 

I turn on the television to calm my nerves and distract myself by flipping through my Netflix account, looking for something to watch when I'm halfway through a crime documentary—my phone pings with a new text message from Tom.

I'm here.

My hands are shaking when I text him back.

Okay, I'll let you in.

I buzz him into the building, stand up from the sofa, and meet him at the door. 

Tom stands in my entryway, holding a box of my belongings. His hair is a mess, and standing straight up from the wind, he quickly smooths it down once I take the box from him.

"You look good," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I hope everything went well in Michigan."

I think about what Darla told me Tom had done, and I thought I could confront him calmly, but I'm not sure that is possible.

"Yeah, Bridget was a great help."

"Good," he nods awkwardly. "Did you decide whether to keep or sell the house?"

"No, not yet," I say, and my stomach somersaults as I look up at him. I can't hold back any longer. I need to confront him. "You may be interested to know I had the strangest conversation when I was there. I ran some errands in Detroit when I ran into Darla Zimmerman."

"Oh."

"She mentioned my mom's passing and how the entire Zimmerman family, including Zach, had flowers sent from them. So when I told her I had never received them, she immediately called the florist. Darla needs to get to the bottom of things, and as it turns out, the floral arrangements were delivered, and they had a delivery confirmation. You'll never guess what it said."

I move toward him, and he instinctively moves one step back. His face is flush, and I can tell he doesn't like where this is going. He was not prepared for this.

"The name on the slip said Tom Fumerton."

Tom drops his head in defeat. I can tell he's trying to formulate a response, but when he lifts his head back up, he won't look me in the eye. He nervously bites his bottom lip. His silence tells me everything I need to know.

"You fucking asshole! You signed for them, and then what? What did you do with them? Did you throw them out?" I land a hard shove on his chest, and he winces and can't bring himself to look at me. "I asked you multiple times if Zach or his family had sent anything."

His back was now against the wall, and he watched as I paced before him. My heart felt like it would claw its way out of my chest.

"Seriously! What the hell?"

I needed an answer, and I needed it fast. Tom ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time in the last few minutes and finally decided to come clean.