The heat building in my eyes, the tightness in my chest—none of it equips me to handle what he’s saying, so I shake my head, refuting wordlessly, and walk away, faster when I hear Coal’s footsteps coming up the stairs.
I get to my room and slam the door behind me; the curtains are shuttered, the lights all off. I bend double and tell myself I’m fine, I’m fine,I’m fine—
I’m despairingly in love with you.
The room shifts. I’m on my knees, head in my hands, and Ifucking hate him.I hate that I can look back now and see the truth in every moment he pulled away, that he was trying not to hurt me, but I kept pushing. Iknewsomething was off but I was so determined to choose whatIwanted for once in my life that I refused to see what was glaringly obvious.
Here I thought I’d changed, when all along, I was falling into the same pattern as before: letting a fantasy override my common sense.
That’s what I did with Iris.
That’s what I did with my mom.
My gut sinks, my head spins, and I think I cry out, that blast of realization searing through me like a knife wound.
I only have myself to blame for this, my stupid, shitty fantasies and my stupid, shitty ignorance because I thought, for a second, that I could fix my mess. But it isn’t fixable, is it? I’m right back where I started.
Only ithurtsthis time.
It hurts so much deeper than it did with Iris. This wasn’t me trying to mold myself to fit someone else; this was me, all along, choosing somethingreal.
What Hex said… it isn’t that simple. I chose my own happiness, and it still ended disastrously becauseI can’t do anything right.
Coal’s hand grips my shoulder.
He bends down next to me and puts his arms around me and I hold onto him in the dark, not speaking. I will that silence to bleed into my scattered, tumultuous thoughts, but my brain is a ripped-out control box, all sparking electricity and thrashing wires that keep bringing me back to the same two things.
I’m in love with Loch.
And I can’t believe I thought loving him would be enough.
Chapter Eighteen
Days pass in a blur.
The weekend comes, and I realize halfway through Saturday that Coal and I are supposed to go to our parents’ vow renewal. Or, well, a prior version of me would have pushed for us to go.
But we don’t. We don’t even talk about it.
I have both Dad and Mom blocked, so whatever repercussions they rain down don’t reach me. I want to ask Coal if they’ve contacted him. But I can’t.
He does make us have abrother nightSunday evening, where the two of us haul up in the theater room and eat too much popcorn and candy and watch shitty movies.
It’s when we’re cleaning up the room that he stops, an empty popcorn bucket in one hand, eyes on the black screen. The theater lights are up.
“Is that how she always talked to you?” he whispers to the empty room.
My heart sinks. I don’t need to ask for clarification or examples. They’re in the set of his face, the harrowed look when his eyes find mine.
Whatever Mom’s said to him about us missing their vow renewal, Coal’s not hurt for himself. He’s hurt realizing the depth of how she’s treated me all these years.
“Don’t—” I clear my throat. “Don’t let her get to you the way I did. Don’t let it go so long, okay? If it’s too much.”
Coal bats away my concern. “Oh, don’t you worry. I let herhave itthe moment she tried to lay blame on me. That shut her up.” He pauses. “I’m guessing you never talked back to her? Always took whatever she threw at you because you felt you deserved it.”
I pretend to straighten the recliners we used. They’re already in line.
“Kris.”
