Three hands rested on me—my hand, my knee, and my shoulder. All of them supporting me.
“You know what to do,” my mom encouraged.
“I need to go to him.”
“Yes,” Vera agreed. “But maybe wash your face first. Your mascara is smeared…” She paused, gesturing all over her face. “Here.”
“And one more drink,” my mom said.
“Here, here,” we shouted in unison.
Even if things didn’t work out with Austin, which created a crater in my being that wanted to swallow me whole, looking around at these women, I knew I’d be okay.
I just wanted to be more than okay. I wanted to be all the names they said and so much more. I wanted to be Austin’s everything, and I wanted him to be mine.
But first, a drink.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Austin
“So, should I have brought ice cream and a Taylor Swift CD or what?” King asked, looking me up and down.
“Fuck you,” I muttered with a scowl before heading back to my spot on the couch. He could make himself at home, I was in no mood to entertain a guest. I wanted to sit on this single cushion until it swallowed me into oblivion.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.” He closed the door behind him and followed, falling onto the other side of the couch. “Besides, you and Rae have been going at it like bunnies. There’s no room for anymore fucking.”
“Not anymore.”
“Ohhhhh. The moping, calling off from work, and not answering the phone makes more sense now.”
I didn’t bother responding, instead glared while I grabbed a beer from the floor and popped the tab.
“So testy,” he joked.
“If you’re going to mock me, then get the fuck out.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay.”
“If you’re going to say I told you so, then get the fuck out.”
“C’mon, Austin. I should get at least one I told you so.”
This time I bared my teeth when I glared. He held up his hands in surrender and settled back, not looking like he planned to go anywhere for a while. I wanted to demand he leave—to let me wallow in my misery alone, but I was too fucking tired. Everything ached even though I’d done nothing but come back to my empty apartment and sit on my couch.
I couldn’t bring myself to go back in the bedroom. I couldn’t go back to where everything imploded. The memory of her tears was permanently embedded behind my eyes and haunted me even though I tried to avoid it by sleeping on the couch. No matter where I went, her announcement of already having filed for divorce followed me like a shadow, and I was terrified I’d never be rid of it.
Each knock at the door, each ping of an incoming email, left me shaking on the edge of a cliff, wondering if it was the papers being delivered—the final shove that toppled me down. Part of me wanted to get it over with, to put me out of my misery, to just fucking end this. Maybe the clean break would allow me to heal.
I doubted it, but it was the only hope I had right then.
“Okay, bro. Talk to me.”
“Nothing to talk about,” I answered before downing half my drink.
“Says the man clutching a beer like it’s the last one he’ll ever have, despite the case sitting next to him, while he stares at a blank TV screen.”
Like nails on a chalkboard, his depiction scraped along my solitude, forcing me to acknowledge him—to acknowledge everything when all I wanted to do was hide away. “What the fuck, King?” I snapped, slamming my bottle on the coffee table and unleashing the full swell of my emotions on the only available target. “What do you want me to say? That I fucked up? That you were right? That Rae didn’t want to be married to anyone, and now I’ve got fucking nothing? Huh? You wanna hear how you were right when you said she’d break me? Because I am. I’m mother-fucking-broken.”
My chest heaved like I’d run a marathon while King sat back with wide eyes under pinched brows. I waited for him to lash out, to shout back and tell me to fuck off with my misplaced anger. But he didn’t. He remained calm, despite my verbal assault, and his lack of reaction sucked all the fight out of me.
I dropped my head to my hands and fisted my hair, trying anything to relieve the headache that took up residence as soon as Rae left.
“For what it’s worth, I’m fucking sorry,” he finally said.
“Me, too.”
“Wanna tell me what happened?”
“Not really.”
“Wanna pass me a beer and tell me anyways?”
I pulled myself up and glared but grabbed a beer and passed it to him. We each took a sip, and then I laid it all out. All of it except the part about her past and Bodie. I knew how much Rae didn’t want anyone to know what she’d gone through. While I wanted her to shout it to the world, smear his name, and let everyone know she survived, it wasn’t my choice.