I love him, but I can’t have him. So, I had to break him.
I used my words to hurt him. I was truly my father’s child. But what else was I supposed to do? He wouldn’t have let me go, and I needed him to.
My head pounds. I’ve hardly gotten any sleep. I always toss and turn, expecting him to be beside me. But I’m always met with a cold bed. I expect my phone to light up with a message from him or for flowers to be left on my doorstep.
Oh my God, he bought a new bed just for me.
He has to lie in it at night, consumed with thoughts of me while fighting off an addiction. I’m a horrible person. The anxiety that he might drink keeps me up at night. The scenario haunts me until I bury my head beneath my pillow and cry. If he does anything that ruins his soberness, it will be all my fault. I caused him all that stress, and that’s the number one reason why most people relapse.
Stress.
I lie in my bed and watch the sunset from my window and the sunrise in the morning, all with the same empty feeling inside.
Guilt.
I’ve caused him more pain and lied to him. I hope, one day, he can forgive me and be able to look at me without hate on his face. I don’t think I could bear a hateful relationship with him anymore. But anything is better than numbness. If he’s angry, that means he’s feeling something.
As I lie on my stomach, my head facing away from my door, I hear someone enter before closing the door.
“Hey,” is whispered from above me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find a worried Trinity.
“Are you feeling any better? You’ve been feeling off for a couple of days. Maybe you should go to the doctor?”
I shake my head, looking away as tears cloud my vision. I’ve been crying a lot these days. I’m not sure how I still have fluids left in my body.
“Something tells me you’re not actually sick,” she says softly. I feel the bed dip as she sits beside me. “Did something happen with Levi?”
Yes, I have the bruises from my dad’s fingertips on my neck to prove it, but I’m hiding the evidence behind an oversize hoodie.
“We broke up.” Those words feel thick, coming out of my mouth, and I almost choke. I close my eyes tightly, and a tear rolls down my face. I lick the salty moisture when it lands on my lip.
“What?” she says breathlessly, like she can’t believe it. Well, neither can I. “When, and why?”
“A couple of days ago,” I answer, my throat closing up.
“Why? What happened? I thought everything was going great.”
I shrug. “We just wanted different things. We fought, and things ended.” The lie tastes sour in my mouth.
The last thing I need is Trinity finding out about my dad’s threats and telling my brothers.
“I don’t know what to say,” Trinity whispers. Lying next to me, she wraps her arm around my shoulders and cuddles into me.
“You don’t have to say anything. It is what it is.”
“Maybe this isn’t a forever type of thing? You guys can get back together.” Hope lifts her spirits—something I don’t have at all.
“I don’t think we could ever go back to how we were. We hurt each other with our words.”
“That’s what I thought when Leonidas and I had our falling-out, but we grew even stronger when we got back together.”
I wipe my lip, holding back a frustrated scream. I’ve never wanted to tell her something so badly. I wonder how she would react if she heard the reason we’re not a couple anymore.
How could I stay, knowing someone with no mercy was threatening to break him and his sister? And I could prevent that from happening?
Shaking my head, I swipe my thumb across a tear, angry with myself. Why can’t I stop crying, and when will this guilt go away and leave me just numb?
