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“Tacos.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You like Mexican food?”
“Whenever I’m given a choice, the answer is always tacos.”
“Tacos it is.”
I kick off my heels and flop onto the couch while TJ places our order.
“It reclines,” he whispers.
My eyes widen and my fingers fumble around for the button on the armrest. I close my eyes and smile while my body tilts back.
“Food will be here in about forty minutes,” TJ says, taking the seat beside me. “Comfy?”
“In Heaven, there will be tacos and this chair.”
He chuckles.
I sit upright and face him, crossing my legs. “So, what is it that you wanted to tell me?”
He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. I watch as his chest rises and falls with each of his deep breaths. I wait, allowing him time to collect his thoughts. Whatever he’s about to tell me seems important.
“Saturday was my birthday … and the anniversary of my mom’s death.”
My eyebrows lift. “Your mom died on your birthday?”
“Yep. Gives Happy Birthday a whole new meaning, huh?” He laughs once. “So every year on my birthday, I drive to New Jersey and spend a few days there. I couldn’t afford to have a funeral for Mom when she died, so the state cremated her body. Woods drove me to the beach so I could throw her ashes into the water. She always wanted to go to the beach, but Dad never wanted to take us. I figured that’s where she’d want to be.”
“Who’s Woods?”
“He was a friend. Sort of. My dad used to hit my mom whenever he was drunk. I had to call the police a lot, and Woods was the officer who always came. He tried to help me from time to time while I was in and out of foster care.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
“Not since I was sixteen. The night he released me from jail.” TJ turns his head to look at me for the first time since we started this conversation. Shame fills his eyes. “I wasn’t always this person you see now.”
Any anger I had left melts away. I lift my hand to caress his cheek, and he leans into my touch. I want to climb in his lap and wrap my arms around him. I want to hold him and tell him how sorry I am. But I know that won’t change anything. Words won’t take his pain away. Don’t I know it.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I whisper.
“When you told me I need to practice what I preach, it really hit home.”
“TJ, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t know—”
“No. You were right. My friend Reggie used to tell me how important it is to talk about the things I went through. He said I isolate myself.”
“Do you remember what I asked you the night we met?”
One corner of his mouth turns up. “You asked me why I was torturing myself.”
I nod. “You can’t punish yourself for the life you were given. You can’t go back and change anything. Look at the person you are now.”
TJ’s chin drops and he averts his eyes.
“No.” I grip his face and turn it back towards me. “You are an incredible man. You should be proud of the life you’ve made for yourself. You devote your life to helping others. Take some time to help yourself.”
“How do I do that?”
