Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
So we just let the weeks go by, being what we said we were going to be—friends.
“A little birdy told me you and Gage have been spending a lot of time together,” Angie said when I went to her shop one day. She had her own now, where she sold her art and other people’s. And she had a way of getting me to be social or come see her even when I wanted to grumble or be alone.
“I told you I’m spending time with Gage,” I countered. It was her lunch hour, and we were in her office while one of her employees took care of customers.
“Okay, well, two birdies.”
She was ridiculous sometimes.
“We work out together. It’s not a big deal.” We also text and talk on the phone nearly every day. But I couldn’t let myself tell her that. It was mine, and I wanted to protect it, keep it safe, so I didn’t have to dissect it.
Angie stabbed a piece of lettuce in her salad. “It’s okay to let yourself get close to him again, Joey. It’s okay to care about something or someone other than me, Kev, and Livvy.”
Was it, though? I’d loved Gage. I’d trusted him, and he’d thrown me away… It was my fault… I shoved those thoughts out of my head. “I don’t know how, Ange. I can’t…not with him, not with anyone ever again.”
She sighed, a sound I was familiar with. It meant she wasn’t done with me yet.
“Don’t you think it’s time you stopped punishing yourself for that night? It wasn’t your fault. Nothing that happened was your fault. And it can’t be changed. Spending a lifetime hurting yourself because you feel like you let Gage down doesn’t benefit anyone.”
I closed my eyes, counted to five, hoped that would make this moment go away, that it would somehow loosen the knot in my chest, but of course it didn’t. It never did.
“I see it sometimes. I feel it. I’m not even talking nightmares or anything like that. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s like I relive it at the most random moments. The high, the euphoria, the happiness, and then I’ll feel him rip me out of bed. I’ll feel his fists and remember what I thought…that he hated me, that those moments that were my whole world, that were so damn beautiful to me, made me disgusting to him, and I don’t…I don’t fight back. And I didn’t fight back that night either. I let him do it, and Gage came to my rescue because I wasn’t strong enough.
“I saw it, Ange, saw the look in his eyes after it happened—the pain, the fear, the regret. I put him in that situation, and then I hated him for walking away from me, so no, I can’t just stop punishing myself because of what it did to him.” That was the truth of it, no matter what I tried to tell myself.
“Oh, Joey. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. Gage doesn’t think it was either. You need to talk to someone, because what you’re doing, it’s not healthy, and one day it’s going to catch up with you. I’m no expert, but it sounds like some kind of PTSD.”
There was something wrong with me, of course I knew there was, but I couldn’t find it in myself to want to do anything about it.
“You’re being given a second chance with the love of your life. I’ve never known any couple who love each other like you and Gage did. Don’t let this chance slip away.”
If I listened real hard, if I let myself shut off my fear, I could hear the truth inside me telling me she was right, that I’d never forgive myself if I let myself lose him again.
I did my best to ignore it, saying instead, “Your salad is getting all soggy.”
Still, Gage wasn’t far from my mind as we finished lunch and began talking about other things.
When it was time for her to return to work, Angie said, “Your birthday’s coming up.”
I stiffened, felt like someone had injected concrete into my veins. I didn’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, hadn’t since that day. Most of the time, I spent the night of it spiraling in some unhealthy way or another—fighting, fucking people I didn’t know, running or exercising until I couldn’t stand. “I know.”
“You should come over. Livvy would love to see her uncle Joey.”
She invited me every year, but I always refused. They deserved better than being around me on that night. I was a mess, couldn’t force myself to pretend I wasn’t, the way I pretended every other day. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why am I not surprised that’s how you answered?”
“Because you know me?”
“I do, sometimes I think better than you do, but now we have something else to consider. I can’t imagine that night is easy for Gage either, and he never had a choice to use us for support the way you did.”