I look at Xander from where I'm rocking, then the phone. I can't stand it. I burst from the chair. "I am so fucking mad and disappointed and resentful. You always chose the band over me. That night wasmy night!It was the equivalent of your winning the show and the contract with Nichols Records. It wasmy. Night.And you weren’t there. None of you were there. Maybe if you'd been there, none of this would be happening. Maybe, if just once you felt as happy for me as I always do for you, maybe if just once you'd put me first as I always do for you, I wouldn't be so fucked up now. Maybe I wouldn't be so angry at you all."
"I need you to know. I used to blame you. All of you. I used to think it was your fault I got attacked. I resented your success with the band because I always came second to it. Always. I'm supposed to be your sister, yourwife. How can you say you care about me when you never, not once, thought of putting me first? You all broke my heart. They may have broken my body and my spirit, but you all broke my heart."
"And then you did it again when the band, once again, pushed me back to second place. That night you celebrated that you'd hit number one. You could have done it behind closed doors, but you didn't. You didn't care enough aboutmyfeelings to do that for me. You have no idea what it's like to live in a fucking tin can, never being able to leave, and then never having your family around to rely on. Not once did any of you, besides Ethan, attend one of my shows. Not once. Imagine howyou'dfeel if I never went to the taping of the TV show, if I hadn't been there the night you won, if I hadn't been so understanding when you went on tour leaving me behind not once but twice my senior year of high school, and then leaving me behind to live in this box. You celebrated hitting number one, your fans celebrating with you, having the time of your life while I was here losing your baby!"
I gasp and cover my mouth.
Silence. Complete silence.
Xander's face shows shock—grief, when he whispers, "What?"
"Oh, God. I didn't mean," I sob, "I didn't mean to tell you like that."
"Holy fuck," Jesse mutters.
"You had a miscarriage?" Kennedy asks.
Tears stream down Xander's cheeks. "That night?" he whispers again.
I nod, then move to the sofa and curl up in a ball.
"Jesus," Ben says quietly.
Xander comes to me, dropping to his knees and resting his head where our baby would have been.
"No. That can't be."
"It's true," Linc tells Xan.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.
I push him away. "Are you kidding? I always think of you first. Always. But you all never do! You didn't show up! And they… they beat me, they raped me, they assaulted me in ways I never imagined a person could! Where were you?"
"Then you hit number one, and it's all about you again. You partied it up—didn't once think about what 'letting your guard down' would mean tome. It was all about you, you, you! Every fucking one of you! You're supposed to be my family, my protectors, but this istwiceyou all chose the band over me and twice something devastating happened to me!"
The rage has set in, and it's deadly. I want to hit, tear, maim, and shred.
"How can I trust you? How can I depend on you, any of you, when I am constantly coming in second? Huh? Answer me that!"
I let out a ravaged scream just before I pick up a vase and hurl it across the room hitting the wall, the vase shattering on impact. I grab and throw, grab and throw, sobbing and screaming. I'm so angry. I reach for something else to throw, but there's nothing left on the shelf.
I stand there, breathing hard from exertion and emotion, fisted hands at my sides, the anger slowly fading. I don't see anyone or anything. I am in my own bubble, and in here I purge. I purge all of it. Anger, hate, resentment, hurt, angst, grief, disappointment…
"How could you do that to me!" I ask quietly. "How could you…?"
Now, I lose it. I sob. I sob so hard my entire body shakes.
The white-hot rage has turned to complete and utter devastation.
