you’ve changed my life forever. I’m dealing with stuff I never would’ve. I would’ve run or turned to pills and liquid courage, but Rhett I don’t have to do that because of you. I’m sorry and please know I love you. I’m going to the news station to out my dad. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.
I catch a taxi to the news station and am not surprised when he never responds. Deep down, I needed his response to help me get through this, but I’ve hurt him. Hurt him bad and don’t deserve his support right now. I send him one final text before stepping into the news station.
Me: I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you, but Rhett I can’t teach my heart to unlove you. I’ll never unlove you.
Again my phone remains silent, and I tuck the piece of heartbreak deep down in my purse and inhale air giving me the last piece of confidence. Once this story hits the noon news, and then the six and ten news, I won’t have to worry if the detective decides to press charges because my mom and dad will have taken care of me.
My phone buzzes in my purse when the news crew is mic'ing me up. I try to reach for it, but they’re vultures on a mission wanting this story before it leaks anywhere else. For the first time, tears threaten. I need Rhett here with me. What in the hell was I thinking? He’s my other half, my base and foundation, he’s always there for me. The one person who can make me laugh like a lunatic while making love to me. He’s mine and I pushed him away.
For all I know he could’ve sent a nasty text back to me telling me he’s done with me. Yes, that’s what it is. I can’t let myself think anything else or I’ll never get through this interview. I’ve lost him. I swallow that jagged pill, feeling it slice open my throat as I steady my clammy palms on top of my jeans and forcing a fake smile to the gorgeous news broadcaster.
She’s so put together, from her designer heels to her perfect hair. She carries herself in the most fashionable way from her posture to her soothing voice. It helps the doubts beginning to creep up inside of me. I’ll never see Rhett again before my dad has his way. Why do I keep calling that bastard dad?
“Hi, Darby.” She extends her hand to me. “I’m Michelle Easton. I understand this will be very painful and I can’t even begin to comprehend it.”
She goes on about which camera to look into while speaking and reassures me to only answer the questions I feel comfortable with. I scanned the letter and all the other documents I wrangled up, and emailed it to them. It’s clear they’ve done some research of their own when I see pictures of my birth mother scattered on a table. In some she’s holding me, and others it’s her as a young and vibrant adult. She’s gorgeous. I see my honey hair, wide smile, and brown eyes reflecting back at me through her pictures.
The interview starts off simple enough with easy questions about my name and upbringing. Michelle holds up several perfect pictures of a perfect family. My mom, Dad, and me smiling for Christmas card pictures and even family pictures. It all looks so insanely perfect. I’m going to look like a spoiled rich kid calling victim.
“Michelle.”
“Yes, Darby.”
“May I speak openly right now?”
“Oh yes, honey, we will cut and edit the video.”
“I’m not lying.” My voice becomes shaky and I have to battle back the tears. “These pictures make everything look so damn simple.”
I break. Every fucking single guard I’ve built up tumbles, erupts, explodes in one second. The immensity of this whole shit show crashes down on me. My hands cover my face as the sobs erupt from me. All of it tears through my soul, leaving me crumbling to nothingness in front of the camera crew.
I hear a commotion in the background and then voices. It finally subsides and I fight to gain control of my feelings. It’s a losing battle and I’ve never felt more like ending it all forever.
“Let me to her.”
I don’t even react to the voice swirling away into nothingness.
“You’re not allowed in here, sir.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
The deep voice rips me from my vortex, and I blink through the steady stream of tears pouring out