“Don’t.” I get choked up but clear my throat because I’m not going to break in front of him. I don’t need his pity. “It was never going to work out. Can you tell him?—”
“Let him sleep it off and then you guys can talk it out and?—”
“When he wakes up, tell him to come pick up his stuff and that I’m not going to kill myself.”
I dip under his arm and run down the stairs and out the door, but freeze in my tracks because I came with Daniel.
I look up at the night sky to stop myself from spiraling, but a tear still spills when I see the stars. The sky hasn’t looked like this since that night Daniel stopped me from ending it all.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
I startle, jumping back, and swiftly brush the tear away. “I don’t need a ride.”
“I will throw you in my car,” Noah threatens. “Don’t test me because I will.”
I give in because I can’t bring myself to fight him.
The ride back home is silent, and I expect it to stay that way when I get out, but he speaks up.
“Alcohol’s a bitch, but he didn’t mean it. At least about you. I’ll see you around.” He watches me go inside and then he drives off.
He made himself miserable to make me happy.
Once I shut the door behind me, I’m suffocated with the realization that I had forgotten whatsilencewas until now.Drowning with the reality that no one could ever truly want me. It was only a matter of time before Daniel acknowledged that he couldn’t continue putting up with me. If he said that drunk, I don’t want to imagine what he’d say sober.
52
DANIEL
April 1st
My incessantly throbbinghead wakes me. I pry my bleary eyes open and flinch a second later at the light that probes through the curtains.
I turn on my side, gently patting the bed next to me, wanting to pull Josie into me.
I force my eyes open because I don’t feel her, and this bed doesn’t smell like her. I instantly realize why when I scan the familiar room.
Tossing the covers off me, I jump out of bed but regret it a second later as everything spins. I perch on the side of the bed, holding my pounding head.
“Josie?” My voice is hoarse and my throat is dry. I have to swallow to wet it and call out again. “Josefine?”
The door opens a moment later, but she’s not the one who comes in. It’s Angel. He holds a steaming mug, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a water bottle.
“Morning,” he greets, his lips pulling into a pinched smile.
“Hey, do you know where Josie’s at?”
“Here, you’re going to need this.” He sets the mug on the nightstand and hands me the water bottle and ibuprofen. “We need to talk.”
“Where’s Josie?” I stand, setting the stuff down, and notice I’m wearing a different shirt than the one he let me borrow yesterday.
A look of apprehension crosses his face. “You’re going to need to sit down.”
“Where’s Josie? Why are you being weird?” I go to walk out, but he stands in front of the door, blocking me.
“Sit down,” he firmly instructs. “She’s not here.”
“What do you mean she’s not here?” Panic grips me. “Get out of my way.” But he doesn’t move. “Get the fuck?—”
