AllFreeNovel
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For the first time since I moved to America, I wonder if it isn’t the worst thing in the world to make a friend…
“Lana.”
The memory shimmers away, and the younger version of Cal is replaced by the man. The same man who broke my heart again, although this time feels even worse than the last. Before, I had hope he could get better. That he would snap out of his selfish behavior and choose to be a bigger, better version of himself.
That hope was nothing but a lie I told myself to feel good about our situation.
“Mind if I take a seat?” he asks.
I stare out at the lake without replying.
He leaves room between us as he sits down next to me. My pinky finger yearns to interlock with his, but I repress any urge to touch him by holding on to my anger.
“What’s wrong?” He looks over at me.
“A lot of things.” I continue to face forward, although the feel of his gaze tempts me to turn toward him.
“Want to talk about it?”
No, but what choice do I have? It’s not like I can ignore Cal forever, and now that Dreamland is no longer an issue, I’d rather get everything off my chest so he can leave once and for all.
“Why are you selling the house?” I come out and ask the question I already know the answer to. It might be stupid, but I hope he comes clean and admits to his plan, even if it means risking what fragile thing we have built together.
Maybe then I could learn to forgive him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can make out the rare frown line cutting across his forehead.
“We’ve already gone over this.”
My heart pounds in my chest, the pace growing more rapid with each pump. “Then repeat it.”
Tell me the truth. Give me a reason to give you another chance.
He releases a heavy exhale. “I want us to be able to move forward without the house holding us back.”
His roundabout answer does nothing to stop my chest from caving in on itself. Each breath becomes impossible, the tightness in my lungs making them burn with every inhale.
I carry on, my face a mask of cool indifference despite the constant throb of my heart. “What if I want to keep it?”
His fingers tense against his thighs. “Lana…” He whispers my name as if I’m hurting him on some fundamental level, when I know that isn’t the case.
I’mthe one who is hurting.
I’mthe one who gets to be mad.
AndI’mthe one who is going to walk away this time. Not because of his addiction, but rather because of who he is regardless of the drinking. Selfish. Self-centered. Self-destructive.
My fingers press into my thighs. “What if it makes me happy to keep the house? After all, I always dreamed of raising a family there. I wanted to enjoy summers by the lake, baking and building ships and swimming with the kids until their limbs cramp up.”
I can see the future so clearly, it takes the pain in my chest and multiplies it by a hundred. Because even after all the lies, I want that future with Cal.
Youwantedthat future with Cal. There’s a past tense for a reason, so start using it.
God. I’m so stupid.
“Why that house?” His voice cracks.
“Because it’sours. You might want to forget about all the history there, but I don’t. And in the end, you running from a house won’t solve anything when the real thing you’re running from is yourself.”
