I almost hurl again, but still nothing. I exhale and straighten up, but my head is spinning so fast that it’s making me dizzy. I think I might just faint at any moment. “I don’t know,” I say as I turn back to look at Eden. She is full of fear, and so am I. Right now though, I just can’t think about my relationship with her. I need to find someplace to stay, and I need to talk to Tiffani. I’ll fix the rest later. “I need to figure all of this out first.”
“I don’t know either,” she says, and her shoulders slump low while her eyes fall to the floor.
I move back to the sink, reaching up into the cabinet and shoving my toiletries into my bag. I need to get out of here. I need to leave. It’s what Mom wants, and I don’t deserve the chance to even beg for her forgiveness.
“Please take them,” Eden says, and I see her nodding back at something inside the cabinet. She gives me a small, tight smile that is full of sadness. “You won’t feel so down all the time.”
I follow her gaze and realize that she is talking about my antidepressants. The bottles of pills are still on the top shelf of the cabinet, untouched for days, and a lump forms in my throat. I rarely ever take them. There are other drugs out there that make me feel much better though they’re not the legal kind. I don’t think I’ve ever needed a hit as much as I do right now, but I’m fighting the urge. I can’t let my life spiral even more out of control than it already has, so I give in to Eden. I reach for the bottles and tuck them into my bag. I can’t guarantee I’ll take them, but I’ll try. For her, for myself.
I look back at Eden, at the girl that I’ve fallen in love with. Despite everything that has been revealed, she is still standing in front of menow. She still cares about me, despite how much I’ve let her down. I wish I could have given her more. She is too good for me, and I don’t deserve her.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her in close to me. I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my chin on top of her head, fighting back the tears that are brimming in my eyes. Her body molds so perfectly into mine and I don’t know why I’ve never just hugged her before, because it feels so good embracing someone so tightly, feeling their affection. She buries her face into my chest, wrapping her arms around my back. It’s almost like a goodbye. I hold her for a long time, absorbing her warmth, wishing that I didn’t have to let go.
I move my lips to her forehead and kiss her skin. “I’ll figure it out,” I whisper, squeezing her tighter before I finally let go. I don’t want to leave her. I wish she knew how sorry I am.
I give her a small, final nod and brush past her. It is almost like torture having to walk over to my door to leave. If I look back at her, I’ll break down. I’ll collapse. So I keep my head down as I leave my room, my lower lip quivering.
“I really hope you do,” I hear Eden whisper after me, and my tears finally break free.
57
Five Years Earlier
The wave of terror and panic that fills me is paralyzing, but then a sense of calm quickly follows. Everything within me suddenly goes still. Dad won’t be able to hurt me anymore. It will all be over. No more lying. No more excuses. No more pain. And that…that is all I so desperately want.
Suddenly, I long for it. For all of this to be over, for Dad to just hit me harder, to wrap his hands around my throat that little bit tighter, to finally end it once and for all. And I think he will.
It’s almost peaceful, the thought of not being here anymore.
The thought of safety.
I hope Mom will be okay. I love her so much. I’ll miss her. I really don’t want her to cry too much, because I don’t like it when she’s sad.
And I hope Jamie and Chase won’t miss me too much. They can keep the PlayStation 2 in their room forever now. They’ll be okay.
And Dad… I hope he’s sorry. I hope he suffers for the rest of his life from the guilt and the pain, and I hope he realizes just how muchIhave suffered for the past four years. It’s tragic. My dad, the person who always tells me how much he loves me, the person I was supposed tolook up to, the person who was supposed to keep me safe, is now the person who will kill me.
I am drifting, following the darkness and all of the peace that comes with it.
I am letting go now.
58
Present Day
My pulse is racing as I wait for someone to answer the door, and every second that passes feels like an eternity. It’s late. The streetlights are casting an orange glow down the street, breaking through the darkness. The soft breeze in the air cools the skin on my neck, and I tilt my head down, my hand on the strap of the bag that’s resting on my shoulder.
It has been a long day. I’ve been parked down on the oceanfront until now, staring out over the water for hours, trying to get my thoughts in order. It would have been so easy…so, so fucking easy to call up Declan Portwood. My life is in turmoil, and all I wanted was to forget about it, even just for a few hours. But I fought against the urge. Even deleted Declan’s number from my phone. I needed to be better than that. I needed to figure out where I was supposed to go. I thought about heading to Dean’s place. I’d have been welcome there, for sure. But it slowly became clear to me that there really was only one place I should go, and that’s why I’m standing on Tiffani’s porch now. Despite how much tension there is between us, we really need to talk. We have gotten ourselves into this mess together, and I’m not going to let her deal with it on her own.
Suddenly, I hear the click of the door unlocking, and slowly the door cracks open a few inches. My gaze flicks up to meet Tiffani’s blue eyes as she peers at me through the crack in the door, and she lets out a soft breath of air.
“Tyler,” she says.
“Tiff,” I whisper, and as she swings the door open fully, I close the distance between us, dropping my bag to the floor and collapsing into her arms. She embraces me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tight. My head is hung low, buried into the crook of her neck, one hand woven into her hair. I squeeze my eyes shut, grinding my teeth together as I fight to hold myself together. Tyler Bruce is long gone. I am just me these days, and I don’t even care if Tiffani sees how broken I am.
“Come upstairs,” she murmurs into my ear. “We’ll talk.”
I nod against her shoulder before I pull away, and she slides her hand into mine. She guides me across the hall and up the marble staircase toward her room, but even my steps are slow and lethargic. All of my energy has been completely drained out of me. I’m not even sure if I’m ready to have this conversation with Tiffani. It’s too heavy a subject.
