Page 10 of Loverboy

I forced myself to open the thread with Jasper instead and reread the messages. The memory of him stripping away the hospital sheet was still fresh in my mind, and I knew it was probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

I thought about apologizing again, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t find the words to express how sorry I really was for having a moment of weakness. Instead, I spoke the only language I knew—the one that only he understood.

Milo: You suck.

5

Milo

THE MIRROR WASN’T my friend. I avoided it because something in my reflection always triggered the urge to self-destruct. The shower ran hot, fogging the glass while I undressed, but not quickly enough. My eyes were drawn to the mirror anyway, to the emaciated body inside of it.

I saw nearly every rib beneath my taut, pale skin, and I couldn’t help but trace each bone sticking out. The feeling of my fingers trailing over every dip and curve made me shiver as if it were someone else touching me, like I wasn’t inside my body at all. I started drifting away, disconnected, vision falling out of focus.

My body didn’t usually look this sickly, but all the vomiting had left me looking hollow. I was still half-convinced I was dying—to the point where Oliver was panicking so much that I had to go back to the hospital in the morning for a follow-up to get him to shut up. According to the nurses, I was only dehydrated. Oliver wept and apologized for suggesting basketball yesterday once he heard the diagnosis, but it wasn’t that serious. I was only hooked up to an IV for fluids, and after that, I was as good as new.

I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding away to avoid his coddling and the guilt that slammed into me every time he looked my way. The man was crying so much, you’d think I’d actually died.

An intrusive thought pressed in, tempting me to put my fist through the mirror and shatter my reflection, but instead I ran my hands up my face and into my hair, giving it a sharp tug. I stared into the mirror desolately, trying to find a trace of myself inside my own body.

Earth to Milo.

A soft buzz interrupted my dissociation, my phone screen lighting up on the bathroom counter. My heart still raced every time it made a sound, hopeful it was Sofia checking in to make sure I was still holding on after my failed attempt. Nothing hurt more than being ignored in the hospital by the person I loved so fucking deeply. My whole world revolved around her, and it only took being away from home for a week for her to decide she wanted to leave me.

The worst part was knowing it was coming as soon as I’d gotten home from my trip to visit my friend in the States. It had been in the way she moved, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes—the subtle shift in tone—hyper-vigilance was a curse.

Every kiss was empty, and every touch was forced. She let me think I was going crazy for weeks, deflecting every time I asked her if something was wrong or accused her of not loving me anymore. She’d lied to my fucking face, and I’d kept on pushing it until she finally admitted what was really going on. She was leaving me for someone else.

Was I so awful that all it took was one week apart to realize life was better without me?

Jasper: Oliver going home tonight?

Jasper: What’s the plan?

My brother texted me twice in quick succession. He wasn’t big on texting, so the fact that he’d sent two rapid-fire texts was an anomaly. I didn’t want to tell him I hadn’t found anyone to replace Oliver as my suicide watch. Not anyone I was comfortable with, anyway. I tried drafting a few responses:

Milo: Please move in with me.

Couldn’t do that.

Milo: Please don’t leave me alone.

Too desperate.

Milo: If you leave me alone, I’m going to die.

Okay, that was even worse.

Frustrated, I deleted everything, thumbs tapping the screen harder than necessary before I tossed my phone onto the counter without replying. Jasper already knew I was a broken, needy, codependent mess without me spelling it out. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to let him in completely. It was too risky. The closer people got, the faster they ran.

I stepped into the shower and let the water drown out my surroundings, the scalding heat reddening my skin and leaving me pleasantly lightheaded. I reached for my body wash and immediately choked up. It was fucking pathetic. There was no telling what would set me off. This time, it was the absence of Sofia’s floral shampoo and conditioner next to mine. I burst into tears, thankful not to have any witnesses, and that the steady stream of water would wash away the evidence of my breakdown.

“You good in there?” Oliver called, tapping on the bathroom door.

“Still alive,” I answered shakily, the bottle slipping from my fingers and clattering against the bottom of the tub. “I’ll be out soon.”

“You’ve got three minutes, or I’ll assume the worst and break the door down,” he shouted back, and although his voice was mostly playful, it had a worried edge. “Don’t test me.”

He was playing it safe, making sure I wouldn’t do anything drastic. Not after I’d come in here and kicked off this godforsaken series of events by swallowing an entire bottle of pills and hoping for the best—or the worst, depending on how you looked at it.