Page 3 of True Blue

I take a step closer, and his eyebrows lift, something hopeful flickering across his face.

“But I only wanted to go there if you came with me. I wanted to build a life with you out there. What changed?”

“I…” he swallows hard and looks away from me. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Your family hates me. Your mother hates me. She doesn’t want you to be with me.”

That sets him off.

“Jesus, Indie,” he growls. “That’s not fair!”

“Is it?” I challenge, completely serious.

He doesn’t answer, but looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“Your mother doesn’t like me. Your aunts barely call me by the right name. Half the time, your father forgets I’m sitting at the table.” I laugh humorlessly, tears stinging my eyes. “Nana was the only one who ever made room for me in this family. Why won’t you? Why can’t you stand up for me?”

“Because it’s my family!” he explodes.

“And I’m supposed to just let your family walk all over me forever?” I shout, my patience snapping clean in half. “Why would I stay somewhere that treats me like that? Why would I stay with someone who allows me to be treated like that?”

His eyes blaze. “That’s it? You want out? You would just give up on me? On us? It’s that easy for you?”

“No!” I snarl, enraged now because how dare he think that leaving him wouldn’t feel like peeling off my own skin. “But I’m sick of defending myself! I thought maybe my boyfriend would stick up for me to his family, yet he refuses to!”

“That’s not fair, Indie.”

“You’re right,” I say, my throat burning. “It’s not fair. To me. I deserve a man who will stand up for me. I would in your shoes⁠—”

“And it’s easy to say,” he spits, his voice rough and mean, “but you don’t exactly have a family to test that theory!”

There’s a ringing in my ear now. I flinch so hard that I stumble back, tripping over my own feet. I see the exact moment that he realizes what he’s just said.

Horror flashes across his face, then shock, then into complete devastation. It mirrors the feelings that have detonated inside my chest. But no amount of regret can take back the cruel words he’s just said to me.

And the worst part about them is that they are true.

You don’t understand, Indie.

You don’t have a family, Indie.

Your parents wanted the bottle more than you, Indie.

No one will ever want you, Indie.

You’re going to be alone forever, Indie.

“Oh my God,” he cries out, stumbling to me. “No—no, no—I didn’t mean that, baby. Indie, honey, I didn’t mean that—I swear to God, I didn’t mean that⁠—”

Teddy wraps me in his big arms, pulling me flush against him like he’s trying to fuse me into his skin. I can feel his heart pounding against my own chest, frantic and thumping like it wants to escape.

I don’t put my arms around him. I just hang there, limp and hollow, while he clutches me desperately. Not even the warmth of his big body can reach me.

My own heart beats a steady rhythm, like my body knows what my soul is finally accepting. Or maybe my body is trying to shield me and keep me from breaking open completely.

Teddy will never set the boundaries I’ve asked for, and he’ll never actually listen to what I’m saying. My feelings are collateral damage to keep his family—his mother—happy.

“I didn’t mean that—I swear to God, I didn’t mean that, I just said it to—God, I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Indie—my honey, my baby, I’m so⁠—”