"You can't take the blame like that—" Chance suggests.
He doesn't get it, though.
It's been just over a week now since his last day.
There have been many times throughout my life when I hear reminders about how precious time is and how important it is to hold onto good memories … just in case.
That morning, I was in the shower. The steam was excessive, but I needed it to clear my head.
The steam relaxed my stressed body, and I told myself it would be a good day.I kept repeating the mantra to myself, yet I couldn't remember the last good day I had. Since Keegan fell off the bandwagon again, every minute of my life felt covered by a layer of despair.
The bathroom door opened. I only heard it through the soothing sound of falling water because the door's hinges squeal when it opens. It needs a helping of grease.
"Auggie," I heard from the opening that was allowing my steam to escape. "How many times have I told you to put the vent on when you're taking hot showers?" Keegan said, sounding irritated.
My biggest vice was taking showers that were too hot and sometimes forgetting to turn on the fan.
He never failed to remind me of my forgetful habit.
"Come on, Keegan, I forgot. Sue me."
"You're making the wallpaper peel in here. I don't want to have to start fixing that too," Keegan argued.
"You're making my skin peel, Keegan, but don't worry ... I don't expect much from you."
"Nice, real nice," he said.
"Are you actually working today? The Millers have you scheduled for a mowing job this morning." I kept tabs on his schedule, reminding him of where he has to be and when. I didn't want our income to plummet, but he didn't seem concerned. I know why now.
"Yes, August. I'm going to work today. Thank you for your gentle reminder." I could picture him with his air quotes around the word gentle.
"Thank you," I offered, trying to end the conversation so I could go back to seeking relief from my stress.
The shower curtain whipped open, and Keegan stood there, glaring at me. "Do you seriously hate me as much as you sound like you do?" I stared at him, feeling dumbfounded. It felt like he was looking for a fight.
"What are you talking about?" I asked him. I knew what he was talking about, but it didn't seem like something we had to rehash at that exact moment.
Not to mention, he had dark circles underneath his eyes, his face was pale, and he hadn't groomed his scruff in over a week. His hair was greasy and disheveled. He looked like a mess. He didn't look like the cute guy he turned into throughout our later years of high school. There was a time when I thought I had won the jackpot, putting my claim on the hottest guy in school when we were just in the fifth grade, but I didn't know what was to come.
"I'm sick of living like this. You don't look at me. You don't touch me. We hardly even talk. It's like I'm living in prison next to my worst enemy most days." Isn't that what everyone wants to hear first thing in the morning?
"I'm sorry you feel that way," I told him. It wasn't my fault that we began living like strangers, and it wasn't my fault that he didn't take me seriously when I said I was leaving as soon as he got better.
Maybe my threat was proof of the fact that I didn't expect him ever to get better. Living with him was beginning to make me feel like I was the one in prison.
"Keegan, I love the person you are when you're sober, but I've forgotten who that person is because you have spent more time as a drunk in the last few years than you have sober. I will never love you when you're drunk. You've known this all along, and yet, you continue to drink. So, how can you ask me why I hate you?"
"Hate ain't the same thing as love, August." His words made me realize he had settled for the fact that I didn't love him anymore but couldn't handle the thought of me hating him.
"I hate the fact that you won't get clean for me. I hate the fact that we can't have a future because of your decisions. I hate the fact that I'm sitting here waiting for you to be in a place where I can't leave you without feeling guilty. If all those things equal out to me hating you, then it is what it is, right?"
"I want a life with you, Auggie."
I covered my arms over my breasts, feeling like I was standing there exposed in front of a stranger. "I don't want a life with you anymore, Keegan."
"What are you saying?" He sounded nervous.
"I don't think I can wait around for you to get better. I think I need to move out."
