Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,69

of all of this is that I have no clue what is real or fake anymore. I want to believe that Rig leaving is what’s best for me, but I don’t think it really is. I don’t know how I let my heart get so invested in this. This was only supposed to be about me leaving, getting away and being safe.

I remain at the table until the front door slaps shut. His truck roars to life, crunching down the driveway, my heart being dragged with it. I’m not sure how all of this happened. Things were so good, I was living, and my heart was finally starting to beat again. I thought that this was something that could’ve lasted.

Not having the energy to change, I crawl into bed, bury my head in the pillow, and pull the blankets over my head.

Like a ton of bricks, it hits me: I just let the best thing I had go, and it hurts deeper than I could’ve ever imagined. The first sob takes over, and before I know it, I’m a full-on crying mess. Regretting the whole night and how stupid I was. How unsupportive I was, how he was reaching out to me, telling me everything, and I shut him out. I freaked out and pushed him so far away that I left no path open to coming back.

I’m so disappointed in myself, thinking I was stronger and could handle it, I cry myself to sleep.

The days get longer, lonely, full of regret, and they never end. Waking up alone on Christmas day is never something I thought would happen. The only reason I’m getting out of bed is because the coffee pot is in the kitchen.

Getting out of bed takes every bit of effort I have. I throw on my robe and slippers and make my way to the kitchen. I pass the Christmas tree Rig brought home, but after he left, I never had the want to decorate it. It’s bare and looks just as sad as I feel inside. The tree serves as a reminder of how much I messed up. Rig hasn’t tried to get in touch with me once, and I haven’t tried to call him, either, fearful that he won’t want to talk to me after I kicked him out. I’ve had this whole speech planned out in my head of the things I would say to him if I got the chance. How sorry I would tell him I was.

Something catches my eyes in the branches. A small silver wrapped box sits perched among the needles. I grab the package and sit down on the floor in front of the tree, flipping it over and over in my hands. Curiosity gets the best of me and I finally start to slowly peel back the sparkly paper. I’m careful not to rip it, wanting to keep it perfect for reasons unknown.

When I finally get the box open, I’m stunned into silence at what’s inside. A tiny silver chain with a heart pendent sits neatly inside. I take it out, holding onto the cool, metal heart, and turn it over in my hand, admiring this gift. I go to put it back inside the box when I see a little note inside:

You already have a heart of gold,

so I thought you might like to have one in silver.

Stay strong, Parker, you will make it.

Rig.

Just when I think I can’t get any sadder, it turns out I can. It leads me to think of all the stupid things that came out of my mouth, and how I could ever possibly fix this situation. Knowing I need to talk to him, but not having it in me to call him, I decide on calling Andrew to check in with him.

I grab my phone, scroll through the only three numbers I actually have, and hit call on Andrew’s name.

“Parker, is everything alright?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m ok. Merry Christmas, how is everything going over there?” I ask, hoping he will tell me something about Rig.

“Good. We’ve been watching out for any sign of movement and nothing seems to be going on anywhere. How’s the new job?”

“It’s good, not very exciting, and definitely not something I would’ve picked with my background. But it works.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find something else later on. For now though, I think this is a step in the right direction.”

“Maybe. Have you heard from Rig? Because I haven’t and . . . I don’t know.”

“Yes, he’s here.