“What do you want?” I ask, cutting the shit introductions.
“Please,” he says, just that, voice completely wrecked. “Just—can we talk? Five minutes. I’ll go after. I swear.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to say no. But I see his eyes, that flat sheen over them. He lookswrong. Not just sad…off. But the pupils already told me that. I don’t want this to get bad, so I give in.
“Outside,” I say. “We can talk outside. I don’t want to wake anyone up.”
He nods too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, outside.”
I step out and pull the door mostly shut behind me, leaving the latch not fully set, because part of me is already afraid and already planning being able to get away from him. We step down into the yard, and I keep my arms crossed, my go-to defense to keep the distance between us.
“What is there to talk about?” I ask.
“I know I fucked up—”
“Fucked up?” I ask, shocked by how little those words sound. “There isn’t a word big enough to describe what you’ve done to me, Eli.”
“I’m sorry.” It comes out almost as a whisper, an acceptance of defeat. “I just wanted to make peace. Let you go. Let you be free of me.”
The way he says it, all soft and genuine, calms me for half a second. He’s always been good at that. Using this softness as a door he can wedge his foot into. I glance back at the dark windows. The house is quiet. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this, stupid enough to be talking to him.
“Really?”
It’s hard to believe the boy who has literally beaten me unconscious when he thought I was going to leave him, is the same one just…letting go now?
“Really. I get it now. I really do.”
His words slur slightly, and the uneasy feeling inside me starts to grow again. It all feels so…off, and strange…all of this. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to solve whatever puzzle is standing in front of me.
“I want you to live your life now, without me.”
There’s something unspoken under the words he’s saying. I just can’t put my finger on what it is.
What kind of trick is this?
I stay quiet and let him choose to fill the space with either silence or more empty words.
“I want to end this fucked up cycle between us. For you.”
I keep studying him. “How high are you?”
“Very,” he tells me truthfully.
I just nod. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know if this is really a clean break he’s giving me, or just whatever he’s on talking right now. I’m still waiting for the ball to drop.
“Why are you here, Eli? Why not just leave me alone then?”
The way he looks at me physically hurts, like I can suddenly feel every mark he’s ever put on my body…and on my heart.
“I never said I would beable to leave you alone, Lydia. I said I was ending this cycle.”
Now I’m even more confused. “What does that even—”
Before I can get the words out, his hands are on my wrist, tight and rough against my skin. My heart sinks, knowing whatever is about to happen isn’t going to be pretty, knowing I fucked up.
“Let go!” I yell, trying not to be too loud still.
I watch as the switch flips. The soft, caring facade is gone. “Sorry, Lydia. This is the only way.”
