I use everything I have left to keep my eyes on him, but I’m just so damn tired.
“D-don’t… don’t t-tell Hud.”
Then my vision blurs, and I let my eyes fall shut.
Forty-Three
Hudson
I’m buried under a mountain of blankets, staring at the last message Cullen sent me. The one from the night I broke up with him. It’s been a week, and the crushing weight of my decision is suffocating me.
I thought I could outrun my demons on my own, but since that night, my thoughts have only grown heavier. Louder. More final.
He said he was going to fight for me. But after that message? Nothing.
Just silence.
Maybe he realized the truth. That the breakup was what’s best for him.
My chest tightens.
This is why I can’t reach out, can’t beg him to forgive my weakness. My cowardice. He knows life would be simpler without me. Easier. It’s what I hoped he would figure out. I won’t ruin that for him, no matter how much our thread pulls at my heart.
I’ve done nothing but leave wreckage behind. That’s why I caved and took the three pills Ella claimed made her sleep. I swallowed them the second she dropped me off that night, and I’ve spent the past six days drifting. I’ve been in and out of nightmares, unable to care what was real and what wasn’t.
It’s all become my reality.
My parents have checked on me more times than I can count, but I just stay still as stone, pretending to be asleep. They’re worried, I know. But they’ve also realized they can’t pull me out of this. So they stopped trying. I don’t even pretend to eatthe food they leave outside my door. It just sits there, untouched, until someone eventually carries the tray away.
“Hudson?” Mom pokes her head into my dark room, then comes to sit on the edge of my bed. “How are you feeling today?”
I stare at her, face blank, no answer.
A few days ago, I was awake long enough to tell her I broke up with Cullen. She tried to be encouraging, not taking sides, but I knew she hoped I’d call him to apologize. She knows it’s a mistake, just like I do. But she doesn’t get it.
No one does.
I can’t kill his future by dragging him down.
“I made you an appointment with Dr. Anderson. I think it’s time to reevaluate your medicine.”
That’s fine. It’s not like I’ll take the new ones anyway. She doesn’t know I stopped the night I broke up with Cullen. What’s the point of trying to balance a mind so cracked when the medicine doesn’t even work?
Yesterday, Mom mentioned seeing a therapist. I agreed just to get her to leave. My first appointment is next week.
Yay.
“When?” I croak.
“He’s dealing with some personal matters right now, but he said he can get you in on Thursday.”
Good. Three more days to fade into nothing before I have to fake another smile.
“Uncle Eli called,” she adds carefully, trying to shift the subject.
I glance at her, waiting.
“They’ve reviewed the video. Eli says it proves the only interaction you had with that girl was when others were around. But her attorneys are pushing back, trying to question the validity.”
