Through my sobs, I can hear Cassie trying to comfort me, telling me it’ll be okay, that we’ll figure everything out. What has me stopping and catching my breath is when she says, “That’s it, I’m telling Ronan. We’ll be there by tomorrow morning, promise. We’ll figure something out.”
“No,” I almost shout through the phone. “Please don’t,” I beg. “I already feel like an idiot. I don’t need him knowing I told you everything. He doesn’t need to know I called you crying.”
“You didn’t call me crying. I called you, remember?” she says, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.
“I can just pretend it meantsweet frig all, like he’s doing right now,” I tell her. If he can act like I’m just another girl, then I can pretend that he’s just another boy. “I’ll be fine, promise; I just needed to get a good cry in. I’ll shower and I’ll be fine. I mean, I should have known this is how it was going to play out. Maybe I’m just upset because he’s the first guy to see me naked.” I try to lighten the mood. Anything for her to stay in Vancouver.
“I know what you’re trying to do here. I’ve known you your entire life, Sloane. I won’t come if you don’t want me to, promise. But if you call me crying again, or if I get the sense that you’re upset, I’m not even asking, I’m just showing up, got it?” she says in what I like to call hermomvoice.
“I didn’t call you, you called me, remember,” I say, volleying her words back to her so she knows I’m okay.
We don’t stay on the phone long after that. Ronan keeps knocking on the door, asking what’s going on—if I’m actually okay or if I was lying. Cassie says if she doesn’t get off the phone soon he’s probably going to call Liam to see if he knows why I’m so upset. Neither of us want that to happen, so we quickly share our goodbyes and love yous before hanging up.
With a deep cleansing breath . . . or ten, I stand from my closet and make my way to the bathroom as if the last four hours never happened. It was just a bad dream.
Fake it until you make it and all that jazz. Right?
Chapter 22
I once again did what I swore I would never do. I made Sloane run away from me. I made her cry.
Fuck.
This is why I shouldn’t be acting on these feelings. This is why I should have never moved in here with her. This is why I shouldn’t be around her intoxicating, stupid fucking peach and vanilla smell, and her stupid, annoying cheese-eating dog, or her overwhelming plants.
What pisses me off the most, is how all of that is a pile of bullshit—I can’t even lie to myself. The only time I saw the light at the end of the tunnel after my accident was when Ronan told me I was moving in with her. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed her, or when I told her she crossed my mind on a regular basis. I mean, the stacks of notes don’t lie.
For some reason, she’s the one person in this world I don’t want to hurt, but the one person I cut the deepest.
I’m such a sack of shit.
The rest of the weekend was straight up garbage. She didn’t even stay home. She texted me once she was already at her friend Jade’s apartment, and I spent the entire weekend pacing her house. Or at least, my equivalent of pacing. More like hobbling.
I even cancelled my rehab appointment today hoping to catch her when she came back home. But when she walked in, if she saw me sitting on the couch she didn’t even acknowledge me before making her way to her room and closing her door. At least she left me Gigi.
I need to figure out what to do. I made an appointment with a therapist, and they told me I should have started immediately, when I was at the hospital, but I told them I didn’t need it—that I would be fine.
I thought I was.
I thought the nightmares were over. I never thought I’d start falling for Sloane, or that she’d even give me the time of day once I was back in her life. I didn’t think my scars or lack of mobility would impact me this way, but they made me push her away. Actually, I more than pushed her away. I can’t even put into words what I did to her . . . for a second time now.
My spiralling thoughts have me pulling at my hair in frustration, but I’m interrupted by my phone ringing. Ihope it’s not Ronan. Picking it up, I see it’s my younger sister, Summer, calling.
Weird. I wouldn’t say we’re the closest of siblings.
“What?” I bark into the phone when I pick it up.
“Okay, so, I see you’re still an ass,” she sasses back.
“Sorry, it’s been a shit day—shit weekend,” I tell her, letting out a sigh.
“That sucks,” she says nonchalantly. The thing with me and Summer is I know I’m a dick, and she knows she’s a bit self-centered. It’s perfect. I’m the only one she doesn’t have to hide herself from, and in return, I get to be a dick without remorse. It’s a win-win.
“Anyway, I need your opinion,” she says, without pausing for me to respond. “I got a job in Calgary; I didn’t really apply for it. A doctor I worked with in Uganda decided he needed to settle down—his husband really wants to start a family. They decided to relocate to Calgary, and he opened his clinic a few weeks ago, then called me saying I could have a job at his clinic—that he would even pay for the certifications I need to specialize in gynecology. I told him I’d have to think about it, but what’s there to think about? I’d get to live by Hannah, who—let’s not kid ourselves—is probably going to get married and start popping out kids soon. And we all know I’ll be the best fun aunt. Plus, who wouldn’t want a front row seat to Levi trying to get Lacey. I’ve never met the girl, but Hannah tells me she’s something else. That she clearly loves Levi but she’s going to make him work for it. Yeah, I definitely want a front row seat to that. I’ll get Levi to find me aplace. Think he still has that condo he first lived in when he moved there? I think he does.”
I swear she only calls me to think out loud. She never really wants my opinion, just needs someone to listen while she goes through her never-ending spiralling thoughts.
“All right,” she says all of a sudden, “your turn. Why are you in such a pissy mood? I thought you’d be living your best life living with yourlittle Rosie.” She sayslittle Rosiein a condescending tone, taking me aback.
