It was already done.
Signed on my spirit and scarred on my flesh.
And still, I was digging out my phone as I strode around the side of the building so I could get to where I left my bike parked in the alley, my heart beating wild as I tapped out a message.
Me
You good?
It didn’t take but a second for her to respond. Still, waiting for it felt like an eternity.
Wallflower
We’re great but your rug has seen better days. Eva spilled milk on it. I told her to stay at the table while I took a shower. I guess it’s a good indication of what you’re in for.
I could feel the self-deprecation woven in the words. Her typical lightness, all while the undertone of graveness underscored her statement.
She kept nudging her request in my direction, the threat of it lingering in the air.
Another text blipped in behind it.
Wallflower
I’m really sorry, Cash.
Me
I don’t care about a fucking rug, Daisy.
Possessions could be replaced. People could not.
Wallflower
I’m sorry for all of it. For coming here. For asking something of you that you don’t want to give. I’m sorry that we’re in your way and so obviously making life hard on you. I’m just…sorry.
Heaviness pulled at my consciousness. A war waged in the middle of it.
I wanted to give her everything, but how the fuck could I give her this? She didn’t know what she was asking or who she was really asking it of. There was no love left inside me.
I had nothing to give those kids other than my pain and anger.
My rage and my sorrow.
My heart was a cold, vacant place.
Stone.
A bath of brittle violence the only thing that kept me moving. The blood that sustained the life that tore through my veins.
If she knew a fraction of the things I’d done, she would have packed their belongings back into their car and run.
Fled from who I was.
But if she knew my ultimate sin?
I tried to stand beneath the shame that crushed down on my shoulders, and I forced myself to tap out a message.
Me
