AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What did she do to push you away? Looks like it might’ve worked.”
“What makes you think she did something?” I ask.
“Every session, I ask you that question and you answer, ‘Pretty good.’ Something has happened, and considering the biggest wild card in your life right now is Brittany, I’ll ask again. What did she do?”
I brace my elbows on my knees with my hands clasped and rest my forehead on my knuckles. Am I really going to say it? Out of everything she could possibly do to push me away, this was the last thing I ever expected. I never even thought about it.
“Trace,” Mrs. Kirk pushes.
Clearing my throat and without looking up, I say, “I caught her with someone else. Her ex-boyfriend. I think she’d been drinking again. She’s been annoyed that I won’t sleep with her, so I’m sure that helped her go elsewhere. She was probably stressed over her mom because she had a heart attack and her parents wanted her to stay here instead of going home. None of that matters. She shouldn’t have done it. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. All of my time, energy, and focus has been toward getting her back and that’s out the window now.”
“Has she tried contacting you?”
“She texted me that he
r mom made it through surgery okay and she’s called a few times over the weekend, but I haven’t answered. She doesn’t leave voicemails either.” I’m thankful for that because I would be tempted to listen, and I’m not sure I can hear whatever she has to say.
“So, it’s over with her? You’re not going to hear her out?”
I lift my head. “What is there to hear? She fucked her ex-boyfriend. She’s been pushing me away constantly, telling me she hates me, and then she goes and does that? Why shouldn’t I walk away and let her—” I stop short. Am I really going to let her fall apart without me? After I told her mother I would keep an eye on her for when she hit rock bottom? An image of her and Quinn on her couch flashes in my mind.
“Let her what, Trace?” Mrs. Kirk asks quietly.
“I was going to say that I should let her fall apart on her own. She’s self-destructive and everything I’m doing isn’t making a bit of difference anyway.”
Mrs. Kirk leans back in her chair, looking as if she’s mulling something over. She’s quiet for what feels like forever.
“What?” I finally ask.
“I’m not excusing her actions in any way, but hear me out. You hurt her severely when you broke up with her. You want her to give you a second chance after what you did. You’ve said so yourself that she’s self-destructive, and one could say that last May, so were you. Now that the tables have turned and she’s hurt you, you don’t want to give her a second chance if she wants one? A bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”
My eyes narrow and my jaw clenches. “That is not the same thing.”
“No, but it’s awfully similar.”
The beginning of my session has been stuck in my head for days. Brittany hasn’t tried to contact me again. I haven’t reached out to her either. I’m still figuring out how I feel about everything. I have not missed the jumble of emotions running into one another, tangling together, when something stresses me out and gives me anxiety. My anger is dancing with how I still miss her while my hope is intertwining with my pain, urging extreme caution in whatever my next move is.
Friday evening, it’s hot as hell, humid, and I’m sweating profusely. I figured it would be better to mow the yard now than during the day tomorrow. And because I like to torture myself, I only have a push mower. I can’t help it. My dad owned a push mower and he would drag me out to help him mow the yard. I liked the exertion. When he upgraded to a riding mower, he didn’t need my help and it lost the appeal when I did it for him. Any time he asked after that, I’d drag out the old push mower. I’m weird and stuck in my ways, I guess. I’ll finish in time to shower and settle in for Dateline.
I stop short when Brittany pulls into my driveway. I let go of the handle, the mower immediately turning off, and stare. Damn. What is she doing here? Tentatively, she gets out of her car. For a moment, we stand there watching one another. I can’t manage to force my feet to move toward her. My gaze drops as her hand moves to grab her wrist. Something seems different about her, but I don’t know what. Finally, she starts walking over to me. She stops a little over a foot away. Not too close, but not too far either.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She swallows hard and takes a shaky breath. Her mouth opens, closes, and then opens again. “I tried texting and calling to let you know I was coming over one way or another, but I guess you were busy.” Brittany glances down at the lawn mower before lifting her gaze up to me. “I’m sorry, Trace. For what it’s worth, I didn’t actually sleep with him. I probably would have if you hadn’t come over, though, so the difference doesn’t really matter, I guess.”
She takes a deep breath as if to steady herself as she looks anywhere but at me. “I don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to be saying here; the only thing I knew is that I wanted to come over and apologize.” Her voice starts to crack and fracture, but she keeps going. “It was probably a bad idea. Everything is all fucked up in my head and good decisions aren’t something I know how to make anymore. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Despite what I said and did, I didn’t want to hurt you.
“Hopefully, you can forgive me, but if not, I understand. I’m not so sure I would forgive me either. I’m as upset with myself as you are with me, and maybe I’ll work some of that out soon since I’m going to start seeing Mrs. Potter again. Um, anyway, I guess that’s it. I feel like I’m rambling too much, so I’m going to go now.” She turns and starts walking away.
Did she say she was going to therapy again?
I think she did.
Damn. That’s it. That’s the difference. Somehow, in all of this mess, she’s found her fight again. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be seeing Mrs. Potter at all. She wouldn’t want to. This is the Brittany I’ve been trying to find and bring back to me. What am I supposed to do now?
“Now that the tables have turned and she’s hurt you, you don’t want to give her a second chance if she wants one? A bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”
