Grabbing the keys off the hook by the fridge, I attempt to leave when his strained voice stops me.
“I do care and I want to supportyou—”
“With conditions,” I snap, my back to him. I look over my shoulder, his face blurred by my wet eyes. “Everyone always has conditions. You wonder why I never reached out? There’s the reason. You don’t want to help because you love me— you're doing it out of obligation.”
I hear him calling my name but it’s silenced by the slam of the front door. My boots crunch over the gravel as the poisonous pain festering in my chest reaches an unbearable level. Trembling, I climb into the driver’s seat, bracing against the onslaught.
It's no use.
Agonizing sobs rip out, my forehead crashing onto the steering wheel.You’re worthless. You’re empty. You don’t deserve love. No one cares about you. You’re a burden. Maybe you should’ve died. Maybe you should now. Someone can sell you pills. You can swallow them all this time. Lay on your back so you choke when your useless body tries to throw them up—
“Shut the fuck up!” I howl, slamming my palms over my ears. “Shut up, shut up. Shut. UP!”
My pocket vibrates.
Shivering and whimpering, I fumble to free my phone. It takes four tries to unlock it.
A string of messages from twenty minutes ago fill my screen.
Why am I getting dressed?
Ignoring me? Really?
???
You said you’d be here by now.
I'm getting worried. You ok?
Don’t make me call you.
1 Missed Call.
I don’t want him to hear me breaking. Dark whispers increase their volume.He’ll never forgive you. You don’t deserve him. You have nothing to offer him. He won’t love you. No one can. You’re too damaged.
Another message comes through.
Win. Answer me.
I can’t deny him.
My thumb swipes to accept his incoming call.
“Oh, now you pick up,” he growls. The sound of his voice, even furious, chases away the demonic chanting. I cling to it like a life raft.
“Hey, sorry,” I croak, clearing my throat. “Richard stopped me on the way out.”
He’s quiet for a moment, but even the crackle of his breathing through the speaker soothes me.
"Are you ok?”
No.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Forcing a steadying breath, I add, “Change of plans. No need to dress up, I'll be there soon.”
Before he can argue, I hang up and grind my knuckles into my sore eyes, struggling to regain composure. It may be hopeless pursuing him and it’s unlikely he’ll ever want me back, especially after learning the truth, but he’s the only one who calms the storm inside me.
And I’m desperate for shelter.
