“No, Liz. Enough is enough. You let him verbally smack you around all over the place, and what have you got to show for it? A kid who’s doing the same thing.”
I blanch. “I didn’t…”
“Didn’t you?” Gran says archly, one brow up. “Charlie didn’t deserve what you said to her, and she didn’t deserve what those friends of yours did either.” She leans forward, her white brows drawing together. “You want Charlie back? You have to prove that’s not who you are at your core.” She exhales slowly through her nose, eyes flicking to my mom. “There are people who take the hit and get straight back up, brushing it off like it never happened.”
My mother lowers her chin, eyes bright. Gran refocuses on me. “Charlie is not one of those. I’ve talked to her. I know where she comes from, and that she’s spent yearstaking hits from people who were supposed to protect her. It doesn’t make her weak, though. She’sstrong.”
“I know she is,” I murmur, but Gran’s unimpressed expression doesn’t change as she sits back.
“Charlie won’t settle for some schmuck who thinks it’s okay to go on the attack whenever things don’t go his way. She’ll walk away before ever giving you another chance.”
She already has.“So what do I do?” I whisper brokenly.
“Show her you’re not the cockroach,” Gran says sagely, grabbing the brandy and filling my half-empty mug up to the top. “Show her you’re trying to be the man she deserves, even if you never are.”
I leave Gran’s not long after that, with both her and my mother’s disappointment clinging to my skin like a weighted cloak. My heart feels sore with the damage I’ve wrought, and the realization that Charlie isn’t the only victim in all of this.
The last thing I want to do is face more people, but Jack doesn’t give up his attempts to drag me out, blowing up my phone with message after message, each one tasting a little more like desperation.
Eventually, I just silence my phone. Jack’s never needed me to hold his hand before, and no matter what he says, I’m not fucking going. The idea of turning up to a party with a bunch of people I know and probably even more strangers, pretending everything is fine, and my world isn’t cinder and ash around me…
Well, that seems like a new version of hell I’m not prepared to step into.
Instead, I sink into the middle of my couch, resting my hand on the empty cushion to my left, and turn on a rerun of a hockey game. I’ve seen it before, and I get lost in thefamiliarity of it; the steady rhythm of the game and the easy violence as they battle over the puck.
The distraction is enough to drown out the endless quiet, even if it doesn’t mute my own voice, snide and cutting, as I tell Charlie she’s nothing—the voice that is always followed by the image of her expression crumpling in on itself, like she’s shattering right in front of me.
I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be like my father, and in one fell swoop, I’m now worse than he’s ever been. Mom and I have always known what to expect from Dad, but I blindsided Charlie, destroying her with misplaced rage. And I couldn’t even tell her why I’d done it.
It would be so easy to sit here, placing the blame somewhere else, but no one forced me to spew bullshit at the woman I love, intent on doing as much damage as I could before she hurt me worse by walking out the door.
The world narrows down, squeezing in on me and leaving me unable to take in a full breath. I can hear the muffled sound of the game, but the silence of the apartment is creeping in as my fingers clench into the fabric of the cushion beside me.
My phone lights up with a silent notification. I glance at it automatically, suddenly willing to engage with Jack if it means the hopelessness is staved off for a little while longer.
My fingers, sweaty and swollen, fumble to unlock the screen. Eventually, I manage to pull up his message thread, scrolling to the first message that came through about ten minutes ago.
Jack:
Fuck, something’s gone down with Bliss and Marisa.
Jack:
Marisa’s upset. I think she’s gonna cry. What the fuck do I do?
Even as concern builds in my gut, Jack’s panic makes me smile. I should be more concerned for my friends, but I don’t care. I’m done with the drama that always seems to follow Bliss around.
And the drama she creates.
Jack:
I don’t know where Bliss is. I asked Ris if she wanted to leave, and she stole my drink. She doesn’t even like beer.
Jack:
Seriously, man. I need help here.
That’s the last message he sent. Just as I read it, another one comes through.
