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“I’ll take your anger at me over the fear of you hurting yourself, Vi,” I told her as I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding.
“I’m not mad at you, dumbass.” She released another soft laugh, but at least she wasn’t sobbing. “I’m mad at myself. How did I get so caught up in you that I forgot about myself?”
“I don’t know, babe. Maybe…we’ve been so focused on the future that we both forgot to think about the present.”
“Yeah,” she agreed in a quiet voice. “Maybe that’s exactly what I did. Maybe that’s why this hurts so much. I stopped living for today…and myself…a long time ago.”
“You need to talk to someone about this, Vi,” I urged, blinking back tears, wishing I were beside her so I could just fucking hold her. “Right now, these are just thoughts. But what if tomorrow you decide to act on them? Hurting yourself isn’t the answer. I love you more than life, but I’m not worth you harming yourself in any way.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” she muttered, and my lips tilted up with a half grin even as my heart broke a little more. “But yeah, I’m going to talk to Mom in the morning. Ask her about maybe starting therapy or something.”
“I’m glad.”
“But I need you to do something for me,” she whispered.
“Anything. You know that.”
I heard her inhale and slowly let it out, as if preparing herself for what was about to leave her lips. My fingers tightened around my phone as I waited for her to speak.
“I need you to stop calling and texting me. I keep telling myself I haven’t blocked you yet because I want to punish you, but I think it’s more because I’m not strong enough to break this last connection to you.”
“Vi…” I wasn’t sure I could give her what she was asking. Letting her go was impossible.
“Please,” she cried. “I know it’s not easy for you. But I need you to do this for me, Luca. I’m not strong enough to do it on my own, and right now, not seeing your name on my phone every hour, not hearing your voice when I
give in and listen to your voice mails every night, that’s what I need to hopefully start healing.”
I closed my eyes but not before my tears started to fall. “Okay, Vi,” I choked out. “If this is what you need, I won’t call you anymore. I won’t text you. I-I’ll give you as much time as you need.”
It wouldn’t be for forever, though, I promised myself as I slowly put my phone on the nightstand after she said goodbye.
I would give her the time she needed to heal, but I wouldn’t give up on us. I wasn’t going to let this be the end of our forever. She was the other part of my soul, and I was only going to be half alive until she was mine again. Until then, I had to be patient, let time mend what I broke, and pray that she would eventually give me a second chance.
And I wouldn’t fuck it up ever again.
Chapter 30
Violet
In my family, we were so close because we rallied behind one another when someone was going through a crisis. We also liked to think that we learned from one another’s mistakes.
I wasn’t so sure that was true, exactly, because I’d seen many of my cousins making the same mistake over and over again. But maybe that was just my opinion and not a fact. Still, when I told Mom about what happened the night before, she didn’t start screaming and hiding all the sharp objects in the house.
She pulled me into her arms and told me everything was going to be okay, and then she did the one thing everyone in our family did when they didn’t know how to fix something.
She called Aunt Emmie.
If Aunt Dallas had been home instead of in New York with Shaw, Mom probably would have called her first because she was the one we all turned to when there was a health emergency, even if it was a mental health issue. But there was no one like Aunt Emmie. If she couldn’t fix something, then it was most likely unfixable.
She arrived shortly after, and with Mom and Dad on either side of me, we decided what was the best course of action for getting me the help I needed. If I was honest, I’d scared myself pretty badly the night before. The only thing that had calmed me down and got me through until Mom woke up was talking to Luca. I didn’t want to think about why I’d called him and not gone straight to my parents when I’d started having those dark thoughts about just ending things. I didn’t want to analyze how much more important he continued to be to me than anyone else. At least, not yet.
One day, I promised myself. But that day wasn’t this one.
I told the three adults everything, leaving nothing out. Not even the drinking and the boys I’d been making out with to help numb the pain I was constantly in. When I got to how I’d thought about just ending things—not just cutting myself, but taking my own life—we were all left sobbing.
“You…” Mom stopped and took a ragged breath before forcing a smile for me. “You did the right thing telling us, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, honey,” Dad murmured, his face so pale I was a little worried he might pass out. “We can get you the help you need now.”
