She stands up and slams her coffee on the tray hard enough that some of it splashes out. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have done something. You promised me you always would. You swore!”
I clear my throat, and when she looks at me, her eyes are glassy. I hate that I keep hurting everyone I love. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you would understand.”
“What?” she shouts.
“Dad’s so different with you. I didn’t want you to know how he really is, at least with me.”
“I see a lot more than you give me credit for. I should have done something sooner. I just hoped . . . You’re not dealing with this alone. We’ll go back to Washington together. We’ll—”
“I can’t go back there, Grayson.” I hesitate, searching for the words. “Whatever’s wrong with me, Mom and Dad both make it so much worse.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“There is.”
She sits back down and grabs my hand. “It’s different, harder maybe, I don’t know. But it’s not wrong, okay? So don’t say that.”
I shrug, because I want to believe her so much, but I don’t.
“I was already looking at apartments in Boston. I’ll get a two-bedroom; you can stay with me.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I squeeze my eyes shut, because I know, I know that’s not enough. And I don’t want to screw up anybody else’s life.
“I want to.”
“I think I need help, Gray. Like more than you can give.”
“Okay,” she says, her voice sort of quiet and love soaked. “You’ll get it, Ridley, whatever you need. We’re going to work on this together, you and me. I don’t even want to see Dad after some of the things he said, and Mom didn’t even fly out.”
“What did he—” I start to say, and then catch myself. “I don’t want to know.”
“Just, don’t ever pull this again, okay? I’ll—I’ll teach you to drive myself. I’ll buy us a car. Whatever you need. I’m gonna be there. Just don’t make me see you banged up like this again.”
“Promise?” I ask through my tears.
She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Promise.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
PEAK: I’m glad you’re okay and I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.
BATS: I know.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Jubilee
“CAN I TALK to her?”
Jayla is at the door, blocking the entrance, but his voice still cuts through me, making me ache in places that I wish it didn’t.
I am sitting on the couch, staring at the TV, trying not to think. Jayla’s parents let her stay home with me today since my parents reluctantly had to go to work and I’m only two days post-op. They both wanted to stay home, but they’ve missed so much already and will miss more with all the specialist visits. Ironically, instead of going out to audition Monday, I have a surgical follow-up.
I glance down at the bandage around my arm, wondering what it’s going to look like after this is all done. And then I think about how it used to look playing cello, something I won’t be able to do for weeks.
“You have serious balls,” Jayla says, and I sigh. I could just sit here and let her handle it, but I know I need to see him. I need to talk to him. It’s been almost a week since the accident, three days since I texted him, and it still feels like I can’t breathe without him. We both know this doesn’t work anymore, though. And if we don’t, at least I do.
I know it was my decision to leave that night, and my decision to get in the car and stay there, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice, and I think a part of me will always resent him for that. No matter how much I love him and want him, I just can’t anymore.
“Let him in.”
Jayla looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles but steps back and opens the door wider anyway. Ridley walks in and I look up, fighting