Page 52 of Be With Me

Chapter 17

Tyler

My therapist thought I was fucking crazy.

Or on the verge of a major breakthrough. She couldn’t quite decide.

But there was just no way in hell I was giving Ailee up, not if she would stay. At this moment, however, as I stared at her stricken face, I hated myself. In this moment, I fucking hated myself.

But it wasn’t going to stop me. “You know, if I wasn’t such a selfish asshole, I would let you go. Maybe not tell you any of this and just let you think you were right all along about me. I’m too young, you’re not ready, and whatever the hell else was going through your head when I first let you know how I felt about you. But I’m not that guy, ‘lee. I’m not a good guy. And I don’t…I can’t…picture the rest of my fucking life without you in it. So, if you’ll let me, I’m all for dragging you right into this shit with me.” I cupped her face and touched my forehead to hers. The sweet scent of her surrounded me, my hands blocked out the rest of the world, and there was only the two of us. “Stay with me, Ailee. Please. Stay.”

She leaned toward me, and my heart soared as the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. I could do this. With her. With my sister. I could learn to live with this fucked up hand life had dealt me.

It all came crashing down around me when she pulled away. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “I can’t, Tyler. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I can’t.”

I sat back in my chair. This wasn’t fucking happening. I reached for her again. “Ailee—”

She stood up fast, putting the table between us. “No, Tyler. Don’t.”

“Ailee—”

But she held up her hand, cutting off whatever the hell I was about to say.

I shut my mouth.

She was leaving me.

Leaving us.

“SHUT. UP.” I punched the sides of my head with both fists, wishing I could crush my own skull.

“Who are you talking to?”

It was part question, part accusation. Disgust filled me, leaving an acidic taste in my mouth. I had to get out of there. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

Broken.

Tangled up in my own head.

Unable to stand being in my own skin.

Without another word, I got up and walked around, gathering up the rest of my clothes. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth so hard. When I was dressed, I picked my coat up off the floor and shrugged it on.

“Tyler.”

I couldn’t look at her. “Take care of yourself, ‘lee.” At the door, I stopped and took a deep breath, looked back over my shoulder one last time.

She was stunningly gorgeous standing there with her horror-stricken face and lush body, the table protecting her from the monster in her kitchen. “This isn’t on you,” I told her. “It’s okay. I really do get it.” With one last look, I burned her into my mind.

And then I let myself out of the apartment.

* * *

I didthe only thing I could do. Went home. Went back to school. To therapy. Went on with my life.

My therapist, Dr. Bord, was worried about me. Hell, I was worried about me. But maybe this was a good thing, in a way. As she so liked to remind me, Ailee may be the light of my dark life—or was—but I’m the one who had to keep that light burning. I had to want to get better for me, not for anyone else.

I didn’t care if I got better.

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