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Joshua:
Fuck you. I cannot believe you would do this.
Just to be clear, we aren’t friends. Not anymore.
I sigh, feeling my stomach clench and my heart drop. He’s my best friend and I punched him, knocked him right in the face. But he had deserved it, spewing all that hateful shit. I couldn’t let it go, although I could have handled it better. I should have. Perhaps if I had behaved more maturely, Grey wouldn’t be running away right now.
No, he’d run anyways. He’s broken over this. I could tell. He was so happy those few days, his relationship with his son on the mend. And I went and ruined it.
Fuck, I ruined everything.
I run a hand through my hair, the strands tangling in my fingers and I sigh. The elastic band is long gone, having fallen somewhere since Grey left and I lack the motivation to find it. I look unhinged, I’m sure. Wild. Like some kind of crazed teen in love.
I am a crazed teen in love.
I should leave.
The sudden thought is so jarring, I stuff it down, far down, trying to hide it. But it keeps popping back up the longer he’s gone.
I don’t want to leave.
I chant that to myself, pacing in front of the trailer, gnawing at my sore lips.
I want to stay.
Still, what if he wants me to go? Fuck, he might want me to. I roll that idea around in my head until I’m nearly hyperventilating. But I move into the trailer anyways and pack my shit. Just in case. Just in case he kicks me out.
Not sure where I’d go, to be honest. It’s not like I can get an Uber home, we’re so far out here, in the middle of nowhere. I should probably call Becca and see if she can come and get me. She and her family shouldn’t be far behind us, and I know she has her own car for the trip.
God, he can’t just throw me out. Right?
Motherfucking right?
I’m tossing the last of my things in my duffel bag when Grey returns. It’s been hours, and he looks wrecked in the worst possible way. He looks older and worn down, and my heart skips a beat in trepidation.
I stand by the kitchen table, tense and wary, as we just stare at each other.
“Grey,” I manage to say, my voice cracking, and he winces, looking pained. Like it physically hurts him to hear me speak.
“Sorry I was gone for so long,” he says, glancing away and running a hand over his head. His eyes fall on the duffle bag and he sighs.
“Are you leaving?” he asks lowly, and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“If you want me to,” I whisper.
Those words hang in the air between us and Grey glances away from me.
“I don’t want you to…”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Thank fuck.Thank fuck.
“But maybe you should.”
It’s just a whisper of words, but it’s powerful. My whole world caves in and I feel my head start to spin. Because he’s not choosing me. I’m not enough. I don’t matter enough to fight for this.
“Maybe I should?” I ask in utter disbelief and he nods, not meeting my eyes.
