“For my mental health, Michael. I’ve been struggling, and I think it’s because I’m reminded every day of how I fucked up. It won’t be forever.”
Yes it will.I’m never coming back.
“Is it me that reminds you of it?” Fuck.Off. “You know that wasn’t my fault, Ayden.” He groans, and I can hear the grinding of his teeth. “You do this… all the time. You make me feel guilty for what isn’t my fault. When are you going to move on? Is it the accident, or our stupid little fight?”
I squeeze my eyes together and shake my head. “No. It’s not your fault. It’s mine, and I need to figure it out myself.”
There’s silence from his end, and I’ve found myself leaning against a bare wall between the living room and the kitchen. I shift my hand from my neck, down to my forearm.
“We were supposed to work on us when you got back.” His tone is softening, but I can still hear the resentment in it. “How long will you need?”
Forever.
“I’m unsure, a few months maybe?”
It’s as though I can see the twitch in his right eye. It always happens when he’s mad. It comes with a long exhale that feelsaimed at me. I don’t know why he’s even trying to stay with me.
“I’ve been patient, Ayden. Now you’re asking for anothercouple of months?” he hisses through his teeth.
I stare down at my tattoo. A pair of lion eyes set within a perfect rectangle. The design fills the entire space, black and white except for the eyes. Some see them as light brown, but to me, they’re amber.
I take a deep breath to center myself, wet my lips, and say, “This is where I need to be, Michael. Wait, or don’t, that’s up to you.”
Don’t wait for me. Please move on…
“Are you seeing someone else? We’ve barely even been broken up!”
It’s been months…
Shaking my head, I hold in the groan I truly want to release. “No. Just like I’m not seeing you… right now,” I murmur, adding in that last bit because I really don’t want to fight. It would spike my anxiety, which is already starting to sprout, and I don’t have anyone here to stop me from falling. “I’m allowed to make my own decisions. Right?”
“Of course.” He sighs. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.” A loud hiss comes from the crate. “You need me. You’ve always needed me.”
The cat’s scratching at the plastic and I can’t understand why it won’t just, you know,walk out. It’s open.
Is she stuck?
“Are you even fucking listening?”
I snap my attention back to our conversation.
“Yes, of course I am… but are you listening to me?” My tone stays very calm, without any hint of aggression. I’m trying to move this conversation along. “I’ve made my decision.”
“Without really talking with me about it. Fine, whatever, Ayden. Selfish decision as always.”
Then the line goes dead.
I squeeze my phone, double-checking that the call really ended. Then I toss it onto the couch, watching as it bounces off the cushion and hits the floor.
Fucking asshole.
The cat yowls, and I storm across the room toward her. Dropping to my knees, I thrust my hand into the crate.
“Get out of there.”
She swats at me, but doesn’t extend her nails to actually scratch me.
I scoot back onto all fours and peek into the carrier. Bright blue eyes stare right back at me, framed by fluffy gray fur. She tilts her head just as I do. From what I can see, she’s really pretty, anddefinitelylooks like a housecat.
