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“Grace.” He says my name like a plea.
I walk to the door and open it for him, all the while reminding myself of what I swore just moments before:I won’t give her the satisfaction.But it’s hard and I’m angry and that nagging voice in my head won’t shut up.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He’s still standing in the kitchen even though the front door is now wide open and I’m basically kicking him out.
I can’t stop this. Can’t stem the tide of my hatred for Gianna. Can’t help but feel jealous and helpless. And I’m mad at myself, too. We have just a few days left and I’m fucking this up.She’s fucking this up, my inner nasty witch reminds me.
“Did you have something with G?” I practically spit that one letter, hating him for having a stupid nickname for that girl.
He takes his leather jacket off the couch and puts it on, looking tired and defeated. “I kissed her once, a long time ago.” He doesn’t even meet my eyes as he walks out the door adding, “And I’ve regretted it every day since.”
Chapter Thirteen
Damien
The sun is just coming up when I hear Eli bang into the wall on his way to the bathroom. I’m grateful that he at least woke up rather than pissing the bed until I hear the heavy stream of urine hitting off the tiles. He missed the toilet entirely—again. Last time he did that I walked into the bathroom barefoot the next morning and stepped in it.
Fucking idiot.
He’s getting worse, not better.
He’s angry at his professors, at the comments his fellow students make in class, angry at the state of the world in general. He’s angry at me, at his parents, at the way that stranger looked at him in the bar last night.
When I got there his new friends were holding him back. He apparently jumped some guy who’d accidentally bumped into him, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him right in front of his girl.
The guy from his history class who’d invited him to check out the rugby club not so subtly let me know that it wasn’t going to work out. And if a bunch of guys who play a violent, physically punishing game don’t want you around, you know something’s seriously wrong.
I’m going to speak to his father today. I’m leaving next week and I don’t feel good about it. I know I deserve a life, I deserve to have Grace, but I also know I’ve done a piss poor job of keeping my best friend on the straight and narrow. He needs more than the weekly therapy sessions he’s been getting. He needs to stop drinking, to be in a twelve-step program, to be in a veteran’s support group or something. He needs more help.
This leave was supposed to be about helping Eli, but I’ve spent most of my time stateside laser focused on Grace. So I’m fucking up where Eli is concerned, and Grace made it clear last night that I’m fucking up where she’s concerned, too.
The look on her face when she basically showed me the door crushed me. She was some mixed-up combination of jealous, resentful and hurt. She’s a smart girl, so I know she doesn’t really believe I have feelings for anyone except her, but putting myself in Grace’s shoes, I can’t say I would have reacted any better.
Gianna’s timing sucks. Her calls always come in when Grace and I are in the middle of something good. And by something good, I’m not just referring to sex. She interrupts that too, but I find it more irritating when Gianna crashes those moments when Grace and I are just talking, or when I’m holding her while we’re watching a movie in bed.
I’m about to suggest that Eli drink some water as he exits the bathroom, but that would be enabling his drunk ass and I won’t do it. He deserves the hangover he’ll be suffering through today. We’re both due at his father’s work site in two hours, and I imagine the sounds of saws buzzing and jackhammers breaking ground won’t make Eli’s day all too pleasant. Serves him right.
He’s more than halfway through his first semester. He’s intelligent, so he’s been muddling through even though he’s not giving it his all, but he’s taking mostly core curriculum classes now like English Lit, History and Humanities. Once his engineering classes kick into high gear, he’s going to shit the bed if he doesn’t change his ways. There’s no way he can pass those classes with the half-assed effort he’s been giving. It’s safe to say he wouldn’t even be getting out of bed and going to classes if I wasn’t here nagging him every morning.
I’m beat. Barely got any sleep after I dragged him home last night. I’m worried about Eli—seriously worried—and I can’t stop thinking about Grace either. Time is a precious commodity, and I’ve got very little of it left. Six days until I head back to base, and then maybe a few days or a week until I’m back on a plane and heading off to God knows where.
She’s going to move on, to forget me. I thought maybe I had a shot at planting a seed and making something lasting out of what we have, but this week has put that future into question.
I want to call her right now and apologize again, promise her I’ll see her tonight and that nothing will come between us, but I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, let alone a liar. Fact is, if Eli needs me I’ll be there.
I won’t leave him twisting in the wind the way I left Cooper.
I’m grateful for the knock on the door that interrupts another stroll down memory lane—make thatworstmemory lane—but then my mood darkens when I hear the key turn in the lock before I can get up to answer it. The only person who knocks once and then uses her key is Gianna.
“Hey.” Her voice is soft as she surveys the place for damage.
“Eli didn’t put up a fight...Not with me, anyway.”
“Was it bad? My friend Keith was at the bar and told me that,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “Eli was acting like an absolute dick.”
“Maybe he needs to hear that, G. Everyone treats him with kid gloves. You, your parents...I’m guilty of it too. He needs to know he’s fucking up, needs to be held accountable.”
