I could imagine the conversations she’d try to have with me, once the storm had passed. She’d ask me to give him another chance, to see that he’d changed. Or worse, that he was never as bad as I remembered.
At least until he hurt her. Was I supposed to pick her up again when he inevitably did?
A hand settled on my back. “Hey, I’m here.” Elizabeth patted my hair, then sat on the tile beside me. “You’re safe. You’re loved.”
She closed the lid and flushed away the food that had been the best part of my day, like a metaphor for my joy circling the drain, then pulled me up, and I let my head fall on her shoulder. When she handed me a cup of water, I drank and breathed until I could speak.
“She took him back.”
“Oh, fuck.” Her hand threaded with mine, and she stroked my arm with the other. “I’m sorry. Since when?”
“I have no idea. Probably at least since she canceledThanksgiving on me.” I let my eyes close, trying to fight waves of nausea. “Why?”
“Because they’re a real toxic stew, those two.” She hugged me tight. “But you are not your parents, Chelsea. Their decisions are their own. You don’t owe them your emotional labor.”
“She asked me not to overreact,” I said, laughing through gallows humor. “I guess I failed.”
“You’re not overreacting,” Elizabeth said. “She was gaslighting you. She dropped a bomb on you, and it was cruel of her to try to make you the bad guy for knowing exactly what a monster he is.”
The tears started flowing again.
“Come on. Let’s go have some pie.” She handed me a tissue, and I wiped my nose. “Bas made some coffee with liquor in it. We can get fucked up and forget about them.”
I started to stand, then thought about Bas out there, expecting me to be this flirty, sexy, romantic girl I’d pretended to be. “Fuck. I don’t think I can do this.”
I wanted to crawl into bed and hibernate for the next month. I wanted some space to process the actual heartbreak I was feeling, the anger at my mom, the audacity of my dad.
She rubbed my back. “Do you want me to send them away?”
I shook my head. What kind of selfish asshole would I be to let Bas cook for me all day and then just kick him out? Although he’d probably want to leave when he saw me for who I was. I’d tried to fake being someone I wasn’t—tough, easygoing, worthy of love. The mask was off now, though. I couldn’t muster any pretense tonight.
Dr. Rubin had warned me from the start that I couldn’t become a different version of me through sheer force of will, not even with the help of a magic penis. Maybe I never would. I’d been living in this fantasy land where I could be the princess for once. But I was always going to be the villain.
Welcome to my shit show.
Chapter Sixteen
Basil
Challenge: Have a deep, authentic conversation with atotal stranger you’d be dtffriend
Chelsea emerged from her bedroom, and I knew something was terribly wrong by the way Elizabeth hovered, watching her friend like a hawk. I started forward when I saw the tears staining Chelsea’s cheeks, her red nose, the look of wide-eyed panic. Elizabeth shot a glance my way with a subtle shake of her head, like I was expected to act like everything was cool.
Chelsea stared blankly around and started to gather the wineglasses from the table and carry them to the kitchen.
I was completely lost as to what was going on. “Are you okay? Did something happen to your mom?”
She faced the cabinets, both hands on the counter, like she was on the verge of crying again. “My dad is home.”
“What?” The same guy who’d ripped a necklace off her mom? When she’d told me that story, I wanted to find the man and kill him. I pictured a scared girl trying to learn karate from the internet to protect herself. I remembered how she’d pulled her arms in front of her when I’d lost my temper, how she’d flinched when Evan kicked the coffee table, and I couldn’t begin to imagine the depths of her sorrow.
When she turned around, she looked so lost. “My mom let him come back.”
I wanted nothing more than to comfort her, so I stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush a tear-damp strand of hair off hercheek. She jerked away from me, like she couldn’t even trust me anymore. I drew back. “Shit, I’m sorry, Chelsea.”
“No, I am.” She stared at her feet. “I’m a complete disaster of a human being.”
“You’re not a disaster.” I wanted to wrap her in a hug, but she clearly needed space. “You’ve survived a horrific situation, and you’re still kind and funny and loving.”
