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“No, no one can ever know about us. Especially now. This was just a fling. I don’t love you. I can’t love you. And you better keep your mouth closed, Rooke,” he snaps, standing up, getting into my face. I know he’s just trying to push me away, so I shake my head.
“You don’t mean that, Cal! Why can’t you just admit that you love me? I know you do.” Tears fill my eyes, I can’t help but show him how much he’s hurting me.
“You’re wrong, Rooke. I don’t love you. I love when you fuck me. There’s a difference.” I gasp as I feel my heart shatter from his words. I won't sit here and let him destroy me further. I know he's hurting, but I'm hanging on the edge of a cliff right now and I'm tempted to let go. I walk away from him and leave his room. We left the door wide open and Nate is standing there with a look of horror on his face.
As I pass him, he reaches out for me, but I pull my arm away and rush down the stairs and out the door. Tears blur my eyes as they fall, and I know I’m sobbing. I race across their neighbor’s lawn and get to my Jeep. Someone screams my name behind me, but I can't. I can't sit back and watch him marry her. I can't watch him become a husband to someone that's not me.
I thought he was my one, but I was wrong. All I ever was to him was a quick fuck.
* * *
I pullinto the driveway at home and sigh with relief. He’s not here. After all the shit tonight, I just want to go to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Cal won’t be wasted anymore, and we can talk about what happened. I know he didn’t mean what he said. I know he loves me. He’s just hurting, and confused. He’ll see.
I shut off the engine and open the door, then walk up to the house. I’m not paying attention and still repeating all the hurtful words Cal said to me. At least the tears have stopped. I open the door, not noticing that it’s unlocked and walk inside.
“Oh look who decided to show up,” my dad slurs the moment I walk in the door. Shit! I thought he wasn’t here. Where the hell is his car? If I knew he was home, I would have climbed in through my bedroom window. I shut the door and shuffle closer to him. I might as well get this over with so I can go to my room.
“What, you have nothing to say? How about how you’re a sissy and fucking other guys. Oh what, you didn’t think I knew? The whole fucking town knows!” he roars, and I don’t even flinch when he stumbles to his feet and charges me. He goes to take a swing at my face, but he’s too drunk to aim properly.
He hits my shoulder and I move a little to the left, hitting the dining room table. I realize my mistake too late as he swings at me again, but this time I can’t move away in time. The force of his hit splits my lip and I taste the metallic flavor I’m familiar with. He usually avoids my face, going for places where I can hide the bruises.
“I don’t know why I was given a son like you. You’re worthless, a real disappointment. You should have been swallowed instead of stuffed in that whore’s vagina,” he slurs. I flinch at his callous words. He has said similar things in the past, but that was too graphic.
I don’t bother replying because it will just set him off further. He scoffs and hits me again this time in the temple. My vision becomes fuzzy and I fall to my knees. I blink a few times, waiting for the dizzy feeling to pass. He swings his foot, hitting me hard in the ribs and I wince.
“Pathetic,” he slurs as he spits on me. My eyes fill with tears and I fight them, determined not to let them fall. I can’t show him that he’s getting to me. I can’t let him see how his words are tearing me up inside. How I wish I could just run away, leave this place. I hate it here.
“Get the fuck out of my sight. Better yet, get the fuck out of my house. I won’t have no fag for a son.” I close my eyes and use the table as leverage to pull myself to my feet. I stumble toward my room as he laughs.
“Waste of life. A loser whore, just like your mother. I want you gone by morning.” He keeps shouting things at me and my control is slipping. Every day, little by little, he tears me down, and I’m afraid one day soon I won’t have any pieces of me left.
I shut my door and walk over to the bathroom to clean the wounds he inflicted, and get some painkillers in my system. This isn’t the first time I have been knocked around, and I doubt it will be the last.
I strip off my clothes, wincing at the pain in my ribs, then walk into my shower. I sit on the tile and let the water beat over my head. I’m so sick of living like this. Sick of having to wear a mask, hiding how much I’m dying inside.
I thought things were getting better. I thought I finally had a chance to be happy with Cal. But I was wrong. He proved that tonight. He’s choosing someone else, without even giving us a second thought. I don’t mean anything to him. I gave him my heart time and time again, only for him to rip it apart. He won’t ever accept that he loves me.
I stand and turn the water off, then walk into my bedroom and get dressed. I glance around at my prison and look into the mirror on my wall. A man looks back at me with dirty-blond hair and lifeless whiskey eyes. He doesn’t look like someone I recognize, but it’s me. A man so broken, just ready to give up. End it all. Tears fill my eyes and I let them fall.
The darkness is smothering me, and for once, I don’t want to fight it.
* * *
I waituntil he’s passed out drunk in his chair before leaving my room. My hand shakes and the tears won’t stop falling. I really thought maybe things were getting better, but now I know, it was all just too good to be true.
I walk into my father’s office and swing open the large picture he has covering the safe. I know the code by heart. It's my mother’s birthday. A reminder of the bitch who ruined his life and left him with a burden. When the final beep hits and the lock unlatches, I close my eyes and take another deep breath.
I think about Cal once again, and school. How I’d be letting the team down. But then Cal’s words replay and I open the safe, grab the heavy piece of metal hiding in the back, and close the door. I fix the picture then walk back to my room and sit on the floor. I grab the pad of paper I left behind and finish my note.
I hope whoever finds this forgives me. I stand and walk over to my desk, grabbing the tape out of the top drawer. I leave the gun on my desk and move over to my bedroom door, then stick my note on the outside.
“I’m sorry I’m so weak. A disappointment to you. A failure,” I whisper towards the living room, not that anyone is listening. I wipe my face of my misery and close the door, then flick the lock. Grabbing the gun off my desk, and my phone, I walk into my bathroom.
I’d hate to leave a mess for the maid. She’s one of the nicest people in my life, and I pray she’s not the one to find me. That whoever tries to open my door reads my note first, and just calls the police.
I never wanted this. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted someone to love me. I thought I found that.
I sit in my shower and take some deep breaths, then open up the picture album on my phone. I find my favorite photo of Cal and tell him how sorry I am. How I wish I could be stronger for him. An Instagram message notification dings and I ignore it.
