I’m so tired of getting fucked over like this again and again. Of being the nice guy. The one who forgives easily. The pushover. The guy who fights to win over girls who never actually care about me.
My dream of finding someone to be in a committed, loving relationship with just seems impossible to achieve. Why can’t the other person ever care as much as I do?
I don’t want to continue to be walked over and disregarded, like I don’t really matter.
I’m not doing it anymore. I can’t. My heart can’t fucking take it.
I’m done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: PAINFUL TRUTHS
RYLEE
Where doesMom keep her vodka? She isn’t a big drinker, but I know she has to be keeping something, somewhere — she does make the occasional cocktail, after all. Where is it?
I’m starting to lose my buzz from the airport, and the wine I had on the red-eye. Since I got here, I’ve been careful not to make any noise, since it’s the middle of the night and Mom’s gotta be fast asleep. I’ve been rooting through the kitchen for nearly 20 minutes, and I am growing more and more frustrated.
The light flickers on and I jump, startled, whirling around to find Mom standing in the doorway in her bathrobe.
Oh… did I not have the light on? Weird…
“Rylee?” She frowns at me, clearly stunned to see me. “What are you doing here?”
I blink at her, unable to form words. I must look more like a gremlin than Gizmo right now. Standing in my mom’s kitchen, in the dark, a bottle of vodka in my hand, my hair a tangled mess and my face stained with tears.
The day has been a blur. I barely remember sobbing after Zander walked out, or panicking and getting an Uber to the airport to fly home right away. I was still crying when I got to theticket counter and begged to be put on the first available flight to Nashville.
The flight, the cab ride here, even entering the house… it’s all hazy. Drowned out by the agony that’s blinding me right now. I don’t even know why I chose to come here instead of my place… except I just needed my mom and my cat. I left Gizmo with her before going back to Denver, afraid all the back and forth would stress him out. He hasn’t even come out to greet me, which only makes me feel shittier!
“I ruined it,” I whimper, my words slurring. “I ruined it, Mom.”
Mom hurries to me and takes the vodka from my hand and sets it on the counter.
“What did you ruin, sweetheart?” She cups my face in both her hands. “Grace called asking if I knew where you were. Did you turn your phone off?”
I nod. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t want to talk to anyone… ”
“Why not? What happened?”
My bottom lip trembles and a fresh wave of tears starts streaming down my cheeks.
“Zander… he read the article, but it wasn’t the right article,” I wail. “I wrote a journal entry, and it got in the wrong folder and they published it! Why did they do that? Why did they publish it? It was so mean, Mom. I was so mean to Zander and now he hates me! He told me to leave and doesn’t want to see me ever again. It’s all my fault! I hate myself, and I don’t want to lose him but he hates me too!”
Mom’s eyes widen and she stares at me in horror. “Rylee, are you… are you drunk?”
“I needed the pain to stop,” I whimper. “I just needed to numb everything.”
She pulls me into a tight hug and runs her hand down my hair as she murmurs, “It’s okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay. Mommy’s here.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face into her shoulder and let the pain consume me.
Blinking open my eyes, I feel an immediate stabbing pain in my head. Groaning, I slowly sit up and am surprised to find myself in my bed in my childhood room. How’d I get here? I can’t remember… The last thing I can recall is crying in my mom’s arms in her kitchen. When did I end up here?
I climb out of bed, despite my throbbing head and nauseous stomach. Pausing for several moments to make sure I don’t throw up, I make my way out of my room and head down to the kitchen. I expect my mom to be making breakfast or getting ready for her day… what I don’t anticipate is finding her sitting by the window next to the counter, crying softly.
“Mom?” I move to sit beside her, my heart twisting in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
Looking up at me, she wipes her tears away with the palm of her hand and releases a long breath.
