Page 70

My hands are shaking so hard all over again as I reach for the door handle of my car. I can barely get the key in the ignition when I’m inside, but I manage.

My chest feels like it’s caving in. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.

She didn’t stop me.

She just let me walk out.

She doesn’t care.

She doesn’t love me.

Just like I always suspected.

Yet, knowing it for a fact hurts so much worse.

I pull out of the driveway and I drive. I can’t… fuck, I can’t even make sense of what just happened. There’s this sound coming out of me that I can’t control, something between a sob and a gasp, and I have to pull over because I can’t see the road anymore. I turn into a parking lot and just break. I press my forehead against the steering wheel and cry. I cry so hard I can’t breathe. I cry until there’s nothing left.

And when I finally lift my head, when I finally wipe my face and pull back onto the highway, I feel completely hollow.

Empty.

Like I just lost everything in one day. Because I think I did.

I’ve spent my whole life being a disappointment, pushing back against her, sneaking out, mouthing off, refusing to be the person she wanted, and none of it ever actually changed anything. I’m so fucking exhausted of fighting the same fight every single year and getting nowhere, of being made to feel like who I am is something that needs correcting instead of just being who I already am. Walking away was the right choice, even though it stings.

For a fleeting moment, I think about turning around, apologizing, and sitting through the goddamn service just to keep the peace for one more year. But I can’t. I won’t. There’s no point in bargaining. What’s done is done, and the thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t want to sit in that pew and pretend I believe in a god who, in my mom’s eyes, only loves me conditionally, the same way she does.

I refuse.

Instead, I torture myself by imagining a version of my life where my mom does accept me. That I tell her there’s someone—a man—who lives even further away than Chicago, and that he makes me want to rearrange my whole life for him. I ache for a life where I can say it out loud, in the kitchen, and she smiles and supports me. She gives me advice on how to handle the situation and encourages me to chase my dreams, even if it’s to be with a man all the way in Seattle.

But that’s not my life.

It’ll never be because I just walked away from the only family I have and no one tried to stop me.

My phone’s in the cupholder. Evan said to call, no matter what time. But I don’t reach for it because I don’t even know what I’d say.

I feel like I’m splitting wide open.

CHAPTER 24

Evan

December 25th

Me:

Merry Christmas! I miss you

Marcus:

Miss you too

Me:

Is everything going okay?

Marcus: