Текст книги "Falling to Pieces"
Автор книги: Leddy Harper
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
“What did you decide for dinner?” my mom asked as soon as I came back inside. She stood in the kitchen with her mug of coffee, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been standing there, or if she’d overheard my conversation with my dad.
“Meatloaf. It’s easy and one of my favorites.” I’d say I had tried to act normal around her, but there was no such thing. We’d gone over a month barely saying two words to each other, and then it was as if she decided to suddenly gift me with her kindness on my birthday. But now I knew so much more than I ever had about her, my dad, and their relationship. I wasn’t sure how to react to her now that her skeletons had been unveiled. I had just always assumed that my father had abandoned me because he didn’t care enough about me to remain in my life. Now I’d been hit with the news that he did care and had thought about me all these years. My mom had managed to assert the same control over him as she did over me. We were both prisoners in the hell my mom had created.
“Oh, that sounds good. Want me to make the glaze?” She immediately began to root through the cabinets for a bowl before pulling the ingredients from the fridge.
After watching her silently for a moment or two, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Mom, this isn’t meant to be mean, but I have to ask…” I leaned my back against the counter so I could see her reaction. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Her hands stilled around the spoon she’d grabbed to stir the glaze. “It’s your birthday, Bree,” she said as if her answer was a given and my question had been absurd.
I wanted to back down, leave it at that. Arguing would never solve anything, especially with her. But everything I’d been through over the last two weeks, all the emotional turmoil, I couldn’t find the strength needed to drop it. “Yes, you’re right, Mom, it is. However, this isn’t the first one. I’ve had sixteen others. You’ve never been like this for any of those.” I steadied my narrowed gaze at her, almost daring her to answer.
She huffed and then bit her lip. When her eyes settled on mine, she said, “I know. I guess realizing next year you’re going to be an adult has gotten to me. In one year from today, you won’t be my child anymore.”
A thought came to me that I should check her coffee, wondering if she’d added something extra to it. “Huh? I’m rather certain that no matter how old I am, I’ll still be your kid. It’s not like we reach a certain point and then no longer have parents.”
“That’s not what I mean.” But she never finished her thought. She never told me what she meant. Just dropped the conversation and went back to making the glaze for my meatloaf.
But I didn’t need to hear her tell me what she’d meant by it, because I already knew. It had nothing to do with not being her child anymore, and everything to do with her loss of control over me. She was a lawyer, and knew all too well that once I became a legal adult, I would be free to leave. She may have controlled my father and manipulated him, but she couldn’t do that with me. I didn’t need money to leave. I could apply to colleges, take out loans, and simply walk away. She had a marriage license and a bank account to keep my dad on a leash all those years…those didn’t pertain to me. That’s what she meant by losing her child in a year. She’d lose her control.
Without another word, I left the room. I grabbed a book from my room, the blanket from earlier, and went into the trees for some privacy. I needed space from everyone and everything. I wished I could’ve called Axel and talked to him about my dad’s phone call or my mom’s behavior, but I couldn’t. I had to learn how to deal with things all on my own again, much like I had before I met him. It made me laugh at the irony. I’d gone through life for almost seventeen years without anyone to lean on, and then I had him for less than a month. Somehow, in that short span of time, I’d become reliant on another person. Axel had become my habit, and I had to learn to break it, cold turkey.
I ended up spending hours outside, doing nothing but reading and keeping my mind occupied. I let myself get swept away in my book, forgetting reality and living within the pages of fiction. It was exactly what I needed, because by the time I finished, I found that I’d calmed down.
It was almost five in the evening before I pulled myself away from my forest and headed inside to start dinner. My mom was nowhere to be found when I walked through the back door, but I didn’t dare go search for her. She’d left the bowl of glaze in the fridge for me, and it made me think. It shouldn’t matter how selfish or twisted her reason was for the change in her attitude. All that mattered was that she had, in fact, changed her attitude toward me. I had a little over a year left in this house with her, and nothing would make that easier than to have her kindness—phony or not.
So as I made dinner, I found myself actually looking forward to sharing it with her. We’d gone from sitting around the table discussing my faults to not discussing anything at all. Awkward silence. And the thought of possibly having a normal conversation, a nice meal, and—if I were lucky—laughter made me excited.
After the timer on the oven sounded, I plated our meals and took them to the kitchen table, sitting in my seat to wait for her. I’d heard her bedroom door open and knew she’d be down soon. What I hadn’t expected was to find her coming downstairs dressed to go out.
“Where are you going?” I asked in shock.
“Some of the women from the office are meeting up for dinner.”
“But I thought we were eating meatloaf.”
She paused after pulling her coat on and stared at me. “Oh, no. I told you to make whatever you wanted because I wouldn’t be here. Just wrap it up and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”
I don’t know why I was surprised. Or why I felt pity for myself. But at that moment, it seemed as though I’d left my body and witnessed the exchange the way a stranger would. And as I watched myself, sitting alone at the kitchen table, two plates of food and an empty chair around me, my heart broke. It shattered for the young child within that had allowed herself to get her hopes up. The little girl that, against better judgment, looked forward to sharing her birthday dinner with her mother. I watched my shoulders slump, my head dip forward, and then the first drop of tears fell to my lap.
But I shouldn’t have felt bad for myself. I should’ve known better, expected it even. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to hope that things would change. Realizing that, I pushed away from the table and dried my eyes. I put the food away, not even bothering to eat any of it. My mom had left me to eat my own birthday dinner—one I had to make myself—alone. So, I would celebrate on my own as well.
I pulled out a cup from the cabinet and opened the door to the fridge, not even bothering to take the box of wine out before pulling on the tab and filling my glass. I didn’t put too much thought into my decision. But I knew it wasn’t for attention since no one was around, and it wasn’t even because I liked the taste of wine because I’d never had it before. I only wanted the pain to stop. I wanted the insecurities to go away and for the resentment to settle. I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want to think about how everything had been flipped upside down, and I didn’t want to dwell. I simply wanted my mind to go blank.
So I took my large glass of wine that sent a shiver through me with every sip and sat on the couch. I watched whatever was on the television, not paying much attention to it, and drank. I poured myself a little more after enjoying the tingles it gave me, appreciating the way my head grew fuzzy instead of heavy. I loved how it put a smile on my face and caused me to find everything on TV amusing. It was like magic.
But before I finished my glass, I became hot. My skin burned and I couldn’t seem to cool down enough. I went to the front porch, hoping if I sat in the chair outside long enough, the chilly weather would tame the heat that radiated beneath my skin. Only, I didn’t get a chance to sit down. Something was in my seat.
The sky was dark and my porch light remained off, but with the streetlamps and the moon in the sky, I could see the wrapped present vividly. It was small and thin, and when I picked up the silver package, it was light in my hand. I hesitated before opening it, not sure who it was from, but curiosity got the best of me and it didn’t take long before I ripped off the paper.
I didn’t need a tag or a card to know who’d given it to me. The gift alone was enough of an indication. In my hand, I held a Guns N’ Roses CD. Their greatest hits. Axel had told me plenty of times that I should listen to them because he thought I’d like their songs, and I’d told him every time that I would. But I never did. And then after that afternoon in his yard, I decided I’d never listen to them.
Rage filled me and caused my hands to shake. No words had been spoken, not one glance had been shared, or even a single message received, yet he comes to my house and leaves me something so personal. The nerve of him. Between the blur of fury and the haze of the wine, I ran back inside, shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, and stormed out the back door. I didn’t waste my time grabbing a coat, or even contemplating the option of calling him. All I wanted to do was release this hatred I had inside…at Axel.
I’m not sure how I knew which house was his through the thicket of trees. I’d only ever been there once, and that had been during the daytime. Now, with the sun gone, the backs of the houses were dark, and they all seemed to look the same to me. But with his CD in my grasp, my feet carried me through the dead leaves, past the line of trees, and to his back yard as if they just knew where to go.
I could see lights on inside through the windows, but the blinds were closed, so I had no idea which rooms they were for. I reached down at the edge of the tree line and picked up whatever I could find, which happened to be large twigs and small, thin branches. I gathered as much as I could in my arms and proceeded toward his house. Without taking aim or caring what I hit, I started to throw whatever I had at his windows. The anger inside blazed hotter with every twig that left my hand, the enraged words that flew out of my mouth grew louder every time a small branch smacked against a pane of glass. I was lost in my rage by the time his sliding glass door opened and he stepped out into the night.
“Aubrey, what in the hell are you doing?” His question was stern, his voice hard and deep, but the level of his tone came out more like growling than yelling.
I dropped the pieces of brush I’d picked up, but never let go of the plastic case in my hand. My fingers clutched it in a death grip, the last piece of him he’d given me, and although I wanted to smash it, destroy it the way he’d destroyed me, I couldn’t find it within me to let it go.
“You’re an asshole, Axel! You’re a heartless bastard. I hate you! I wish I’d never met you, that I never let you in.” My breath caught and I choked on my words, making me sound as though I was on the verge of breaking down. And maybe I was, maybe the emotions had finally become too much to bear. But not once did my eyes burn with tears nor my body rack with sobs. Instead, my shoulders remained squared, my spine stayed straight, and I kept my knees locked.
“I get it…you’re mad at me for what I did.”
“No,” I said, taking a step toward him. “I’m not mad at that. I was hurt by it. And no matter how much it devastated me, beneath it all, I understood. I’m not stupid, Axel. I know the consequences our relationship held. And even though your silence for the last two weeks has gutted me, turned me inside out and flipped me upside down, changed who I am as person…I understand why it has to be this way. That’s not what this is about. I’m not here because you broke my heart. I’m here because now you’re just fucking with it. Like you’re taking the shattered, damaged pieces, and playing with them. That’s what pisses me off. That’s what makes me hate you.”
Axel closed the distance between us with two steps. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve made sure to not talk to you, to keep my distance, even in class when I’m supposed to communicate with all my students. You think that’s been easy for me? Do you really think it hasn’t flipped my world upside down to ignore you and fight off every urge to call you? I’m exhausted, Aubrey. Physically and emotionally drained from having to fight against everything I want.”
“So what? You gave in and decided to fuck with my head?”
“Again, Bree, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I slammed the CD against his chest as hard as I could, packing every ounce of strength behind that punch. “This, you fucking idiot! You can’t look at me in class, sit near me, send me a fucking text message to wish me a happy birthday, but you can come to my house and leave this for me? Is this some way to ensure I won’t get over you? To make sure you stay in my head?”
His hands covered mine, holding the plastic case against him. Then he pulled his eyes from where we touched, lifted them to my face, and exhaled with a shaky breath. “That’s not why. I bought this CD before everything happened. I wanted to give it to you today. And then…”
“And then you broke my heart,” I said, finishing his sentence for him.
“And then I broke my own heart, Bree.” His tone grew stern and harsh again before he paused and visibly calmed down. “But yes, then that happened. I wasn’t going to give it to you because I didn’t want to complicate things more so than they already are. But I couldn’t keep it. You deserved to get something on your birthday, to know that you were thought of. Even if I shouldn’t think of you, you need to know that you’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.”
I pushed his chest and pulled my hands away, finally releasing the CD. He stumbled back a step, but never let the case fall. I wanted to keep pushing him, to release all my anger on him, but I couldn’t do anything other than stand there and hold his gaze across the dark space that separated us. “You have a hell of a way to show it.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll take it back.”
“No!” I rushed him, frantically grabbing at his hands. “No! Don’t take it back. That’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want, Aubrey?” He raised his voice and lowered his face to mine. His warm breath skimming across my cheeks made me realize how cool the night was. He shook my hands away and grabbed my biceps, his heated palms made me notice the chill on my arms through my thin sleeves.
“I want to rewind time. I want to go back to January fifth before school started,” I whispered, the weight of it all suddenly crushing my chest.
“Why that day?”
“Because instead of sitting in my seat, I’d sit on the other side of the room. And then I’d make sure I didn’t go to school for a few days after that until the side of my face healed. If I could just change those two things, I wouldn’t feel this way right now.”
He must’ve understood what I meant, because he dropped his hand, reached down to pick up the discarded present, and backed up a few steps. “I don’t. I wouldn’t change a thing. Even knowing the outcome, I wouldn’t go back in time and do a damn thing different. Bree, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. I’d rather endure this pain with the memory of you, than to feel nothing at all.”
“And how would you feel if I told you that this pain you speak of, the same pain that you believe is all worth it…what if I told you that it killed the person you knew? The one you say is the best person you’ve ever known…how would you feel knowing she’s gone?”
The darkness only intensified his silence, causing the shadow of his form to shrink, the air to turn colder, and the pieces of my broken heart to scatter in the breeze surrounding us.
“I ruined you?” he asked with such a soft yet strained voice it threatened my resolve.
“You broke me. I’ve never claimed to be a strong person. I’m well aware of who I am—who I was. I’ve survived a lot of things. I’ve picked up the pieces of my life more times than I can count. I’ve dried my eyes on my own shirt and taught myself how to keep going. But even a brick wall can only be beaten on so many times before it crumbles. I was weak when I met you, Axel. Capable of carrying on, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but I was so damn weak. You offered support when I needed it the most. You were my cup of cold water in the last leg of a marathon. My lungful of fresh air during the homestretch of a swim meet. I would’ve made it to the finish line without you, but you helped make it easier on me. You didn’t enable me, you weren’t my crutch, and you certainly weren’t my savior. You were my companion. A shoulder to lean on, an ear that would listen, and a hand to hold.” I had to pause to catch my breath, the cold weather suddenly running through me until my lungs became the size of peas.
Axel remained stiff, unmoving in the shadows of night, but I knew without a doubt that he’d hung on to every word I spoke. And he felt every syllable. I also knew by the way his chest heaved in short, shallow breaths, that he feared what I’d say next, but he was unable to stop me from continuing.
“I may have been weak, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable. I was perfectly fine taking care of myself, not having to worry if my messed-up life would bring down someone else’s. But then you came along. You made my days easier, my thoughts brighter, and for the first time, I felt stronger. I thought it was because I had a friend. I was so elated to finally have someone in my corner, someone on my team, that I never thought twice about the aspects of our relationship. I thought what we had was normal, what any other friendships were like. But then you said something to make me question how you felt. Because up until then, I thought it was impossible for you to feel that way, but the words you said confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t want to ask you, because I wasn’t sure how I’d react to your answer. And I probably never would’ve asked had I not felt so comfortable talking to you. You dumped a lot on me that day and then walked away. Yes, I was crushed, my feelings were hurt, and I felt more alone than I ever had before. But then something changed.
“That Monday when we went back to school, I sat in class with everyone else. Except I learned something that no one else did that day. You were able to have such an impact on me, not because you were my friend, but because you were so much more, I just hadn’t allowed myself to believe it. You asked me how long it would take before I developed feelings for you, and the answer is: I already have.”
“Bree—”
“You walking away from me as a friend hurt. You walking away from me after I’d unknowingly handed you my heart? That, Axel, that was the wrecking ball that demolished me. It drowned me, suffocated me. And it verified that voice inside my head that has always been there, telling me that I’m worthless and unlovable.”
“How would me telling you that I’ve fallen for you, prove you’re unlovable?”
“My dad loved me, and he left. Walked away without a fight.” I fought back, my unforgiving voice taking him by surprise as he leaned even farther away from me. “I cried and begged him to stay, begged him not to leave me. But he did. You say you cared, yet that didn’t stop you from turning your back on me, even after I begged and pleaded with you not to end our friendship. I turned seventeen today, Axel. And standing here right now, I can say I’ve had only two people in my life that cared about me above the expected. Both left. If I were loveable, or worth more than that, why haven’t I had more than two people care? And why won’t they stay? If I’m so worthy, why didn’t they fight for me? Huh? The only person that ever fought for me was my mom, and that was out of personal gain. Not love.”
“Don’t lump me with your father, Aubrey. I’m not him. I don’t know why he left you, and quite frankly, I don’t care. To me, he’s a coward. There’s not a reason on this earth for any parent to walk away from their child. I didn’t abandon you. I was trying to protect you. So don’t compare me to a spineless man that threw you to the wolves.” His chest and shoulders flared as he leaned his upper body forward, resembling a cobra about to strike. “My decision wasn’t selfish. It didn’t benefit me in any way.”
My resolve cracked, melted, and evaporated during the time it took for him to say that. The heat of my anger cooled, and I had to wrap my arms around my body just to stay warm. Every ounce of courage and determination I had when trekking through the trees to get here vanished, leaving me a quivering, weak, and desperate fool.
“Aubrey,” he said as he rushed to me, catching me in his embrace seconds before my knees hit the grass beneath me. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him, offering heat and strength.
With his mouth near my ear, he repeated my words from weeks ago. “Please don’t do this.”
