Page 93 of True Blue

The best of the worst, it seems, as I look around at my family.

“Maybe if you say that you’re happy enough times, it’ll actually be true,” I tell Mom, who flinches at that. Looks like I struck a nerve. I step over the cake mess on the ground, some satisfaction sliding through that they’ll have to clean that up, and head to the door.

I open the door and stop.

“Oh, and I honestly can’t believe I have to say this because it’s fucking sick that you even asked me, but you were never my number one girl, Mom.”

Her face goes red and furious.

“It was Nana,” I smirk. “Then I met Indie. She’s my number one girl. Forever.”

The door slamming behind me cuts off her indignant scream.

17

TEDDY

JULY

"Theo?"

Luke's voice is sleepy, and guilt flashes through me for dragging him awake after the string of night shifts he's been pulling this week. It's there and gone in the same second, swallowed whole by desperate panic.

I go above the speed limit, weaving in and out of lanes to get to my condo. Indie has a couple of hours' head start on me. I don't even know how she slipped out of my arms last night.

Usually, when she moves or gets up in the middle of the night, I'm awake and can't fall asleep until she's back in bed, in my arms.

But maybe the moment she stopped being mine severed that. Maybe the universe was keeping me deep under to allow her to go. Maybe this is my punishment.

The exhaustion still lingers, and I rub my eyes to clear it. I almost hate how much lighter I feel—and all because it was so infuriatingly simple.

Walking away from that house, from my family and their bullshit expectations—easy. It was one of the easiest, most freeing things I have ever done in my life.

But it took the worst for it to happen—it took Indie leaving me.

And I hate myself for it.

Which is why I'm driving like a maniac back to the condo, praying I'm not too late, praying Luke will tell me she's there—furious, but still there. That she hasn't left me for good. That I can still fix this.

I'm not very optimistic, and at the same time, some dark, self-loathing part of me is hoping she isn't there.

Because I don't fucking deserve her.

But God—fuck—I can't let her go.

I'm selfish, that's an understatement.

I'm a fucking asshole, that much is clear.

I'm also stupid in love with this woman. I've never loved anyone like this. I never will. She carved herself a home in my heart that no other shape will ever fill.

Please.

Please, let me get to her.

Let me explain till my throat is raw.

Let me beg on my knees, crawling to her to plead for her forgiveness.