Page 105 of For the Win

“He’s in prison now,” I assure him.“But it was an awful time.And...it was hard to get over.”

“You’re not over it.”

“No,” I agree softly.“I probably never will be, entirely.After the trial, which was short, mercifully, since he pled guilty, I thought I’d feel closure.Feel safe.But I didn’t.That’s when I decided to move here.I wanted to get away from where it all happened and start over.”

He nods.

“I’m working on it,” I tell him.“I went for counselling.Practicing yoga has helped.”

“I can’t...”He stops, sounding strangled.“I can’t believe the things I said to you.And did.Showing up at your class.Christ.”He shakes his head and lifts me away from him.Bowing his head, he leans forward, elbows on his knees.“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay.”I rub his shoulder, his back.“I’mokay.I’m working on being stronger.I have to live.Take chances.Learn to trust people again.”

He stands abruptly.Shakes his head.“Jesus.I must have scared the shit out of you.Over and over.Fuck.”

He faces me, standing there, fingers curled into his palms, tension making the veins of his arms stand out.My mouth falls open as we stare at each other.

“I’m sorry, Arya.So, so sorry.I’m so fucking pissed at myself.I can’t...”He shakes his head again.“I better go.”

22

HARRISON

I’mthe stupidest fuck in the world.

I can’t even deal with the rage that’s boiling up inside me.I need to punch something, preferably my own face.

I drive home.The house is dark.Looks like Ash is out somewhere.

In my own room, I kick off my shoes violently and fall onto the bed.Hands curled into fists, I stare at the ceiling.

I relive every stupid moment where I screwed up, things that seemed harmless and innocent.Well, theywereinnocent.I may be an asshole, but I’m not as much of a psycho as that Lucas fuckhead.The idea of her being threatened...afraid...attacked and hurt...Jesus.My chest feels like a blade is twisting inside it.I almost can’t breathe with the pain.

I can’t fuckingbearthe fact that I scared her like that too.Even though I meant her no harm, it still scared her.I also can’t stomach the fact that, all along, I was so oblivious to her distress.I just ignored it, telling myself I just had to try harder.

You don’t get what you wish for, you get what you work for.

I thought I was being determined.Working for what I wanted.In reality, I was being a fucking stalker.

Who the fuck gave me that advice?Oh yeah, Coach.Thanks a lot, man.

Unable to lie still, I roll off the bed and march into the kitchen.I open the booze cupboard and pull out a bottle of scotch.Leaning against the counter, I pour a generous amount into a glass and down half of it.

I know this is a bad idea, but I have a feeling alcohol will ease the twisted knot in my gut.I swallow another mouthful.

I pestered her, stalked her, told her we were meant to be.I remember her rushing out of that restaurant and then telling me she was triggered.Iknewthat meant something bad, but I just kept going, insisting on taking her back in there and seeing her again.I want to beat myself with a hockey stick for being such a nutwaffle.

I pace the house, walking from room to room, staring out the front window, then through the back-door window into the small yard.I remember sitting out there with Arya, drinking mojitos and making out.Taking her into my room.

I drop my forehead against the cool glass.

I really did believe we were meant to be together.Everything just fit.Except I’m an asshole and she deserves better.

I fill my glass again and wander into my bedroom.I sit on the bed.I’ve tried to keep the room neater since Arya first came here.I close my eyes and my shoulders slump.Nothing fucking matters.

I fall asleep with my clothes on.When I wake up at about five in the morning, my mouth feels like someone stuffed it with a dirty sock and my brain is pulsing in my skull.

I roll over and bury my face in the pillow.My neck is stiff.

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