He doesn’t answer for a long time, and I’m starting to think he’s not going to when my phone lights up with a text from him.
Theo
I don’t think that’s a good idea. Goodbye, Hunter.
Chapter 18
Theo
1 week later (early July)
Iwalkoutoftherapy feeling like I weigh a ton. My legs don’t want to work, and my eyes hurt from how hard I cried.
My therapist’s office sits in a huge commercial building downtown. Today, I parked at the top of the parking garage.When there wasn’t a closer spot, I almost turned around and went back home. I wish I had.
Stepping out of the elevator, I make the short walk to my car. Bypassing it, I go to the edge of the garage, resting my hands on the chest-height concrete barrier separating me from the ledge.
I stare over it, looking at all the people milling around below. They look small from up here. They don’t see me. They don’t even notice me.
If I landed among them, would they? If I lifted myself over the barrier and let myself fall. Would the fall be freeing? Would the wind feel like riding Molls? Would it feel like the sound of Hunter’s laughter?
There’s still a knot sitting in my throat. I’m so tired of living this way.
I want it to stop. It has to stop.
I can’t keep doing this.
It shouldn’t be this hard. Living shouldn’t be this hard. I’ve often wondered if I was doing something wrong. If I’m a master of my own misery.
I think I’ve finally figured it out. The problem isn’t that I’m doing something wrong. It never has been.
The problem is thatI’mwrong.
There’s something rotten inside me. I carry it everywhere: in my blood, in the marrow of my bones, in my organs. It’s eating away at me.
I’ve played it over in my head. Again and again. I keep coming to the same conclusion. I can’t heal because I was never whole to begin with. There’s always been something wrong with me. Something tainted.
I’m not wounded or hurt or broken. I’m decaying. Rotting from the inside out, and I know I have no hope of stopping the spread.
Not anymore.
My fingers tingle as I stare over the edge, as I look at the unforgiving ground below me. It wouldn’t even hurt, I bet. I’d die instantly. The thought fills me with an almost unbearable peace.
My body seems to chase the feeling—the peace—as I lean into it. The concrete presses harder into my chest, and my heels rise of their own accord.
Everything narrows to this.
The calm.
The peace.
The quiet.
My nails scrape over the uneven surface beneath them as my body tips further forward, chasing the promise of rest. It’s right there. So close. So fucking close.
Finally. All this will be over.
Chapter 19
