“Then, stop making me,” I snapped. Then, this time, I muttered the words, low and even, “You know what? I … I just need a second.”
I watched her face struggle with exasperation. My insides twisted right along with it as I turned and fled up the staircase to be, for the first time in weeks, alone. If only for a second.
17
My second didn’t last very long.
“So, you’re mad at me again.”
“I’m not mad at you.” I groaned as I walked down the upstairs hallway.
I had barely made it up the stairs of the house, trying to take a minute for myself to regroup and not ruin this day for everyone, before I felt someone coming after me. I knew it was Dom much faster than I should’ve. His footsteps were heavy coming up behind me.
“You sure?”
“Yes. I just need a second. I need a minute where I’m not being surrounded by people asking me things I don’t want to answer.” I was mad at myself now more than anything else. Mad at Celeste and Lu, but mostly me.
“Well then, what is going on?” he asked. “I heard you fighting with Celeste. Did she tell you something?”
Of course she hadn’t. If she had, the world would probably make more sense.
“I’m not mad at you!” I snarled at him as I pushed open the door to the room I had spent one of the best and worst years of my life in. I turned around and closed my eyes the moment I saw his expression flare, closing off as he stood in front of me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. That was bad.”
“A little. I still want to know what is going on.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I told him. My shoulders slumped. “I’m mad at Celeste and Lu and this entire situation that I’m constantly being reminded of every moment of every day.”
“What happened?”
“What happened?” I repeated the question. “Hmm. Let me think. You really want to know?”
“Yes. Tell me what is going on.”
I shut my eyes and shrugged as I walked farther into the small room. I didn’t need to see to know that it was basically just as I had left it. The scent of the lavender sachets tucked in the corner of the closet still hung in the air.
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m tired of fighting with you, Dom. Okay? I’m really freaking tired.” I huffed, thinking that we had skirted by the subject. “And like I said, it’s not about you.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
Because he shouldn’t.
Fine. If he ran at this point, leaving us cursed forever, he ran.
“You broke me when you left,” I told him. I extended my hands to either side of me.Here we are. Let’s get it all out there. “You did. You broke my heart and my confidence. You broke this stupid hope that had been in my chest for a long time. When you left, so did the hope. It left, and I was empty and felt so stupid and desperate, just like you said I was.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant and didn’t. I got over it—you know, eventually. I pulled myself together, and I’m living my life. Then, I made one stupid mistake. One stupid, ridiculous mistake because I couldn’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I tried. So, I ruined everything, and you showed back up on my doorstep. Now, not only do I have the guilt of what I did to you, but I also have the guilt from my friends and myself, constantly reminding me not to get too close, not to forget—since when I look at you every day, like this, right in front of me, I want to forget.”
“You want to forget me?” Dom asked, hesitant.
I shook my head. “I want to remember exactly how you felt when you cared about me. I want to remember the moments when I felt like everything all happened for a reason because I ran into you in a bar on trivia night. I want to remember all the things that tiny bit of hope that made it out alive had wanted, and so when you touch my leg or touch my back, that’s a problem.
Dom waited for me to go on. It was obvious I wasn’t done. Not even close.
