I have pasta and so does Taylor. He leaves a pricey tip and I keep my mouth shut the rest of the evening.
" Okay, Tara. What the hell is wrong? Did I say something that I shouldn't have said?" Taylor asks me.
" I just don't know, Taylor. Okay? You don't fucking understand how hard it is to carry a baby that everyone hates you for! You did this to me!" I shout.
Taylor pulls off the highway into the parking lot of a rest area. His eyes are brimming with tears and I finally understand: he cares.
" I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to get you pregnant. I never meant to leave you. My parents know that I got you pregnant and they know that I never talked to you. This- this taking you out was their idea," Taylor explains, his tears spilling over.
" Shhh, baby. I'm sorry I yelled at you Taylor," I whisper, wiping away his tears and hugging him.
That was always my favorite thing about Taylor. He was sensitive and sweet and his hugs always engulfed your whole being. I remember staring at his light brown hair in class during junior high. He was always one of the boys that hung out with the stuck-up kids. I never thought that he would be mine.
" Tara, I love you. I love the way that your hair falls right to your chest and how your green eyes always have mischief in them and how your voice is smooth and wobbly all at the same time," he sobs.
" I love you, too," I smile.
Taylor's lips touch mine and I close my eyes, falling into his kiss. Our lips caress each other's and his hands slide to the small of my back, my hands gliding into his hair.
I can't believe that this is how it all started that night.