Page 246 of Swallow Your Sorries

“She’d freeze.”

“What would change for her if you froze alongside her, Elle? That she wouldn’t be alone? Don’t you get it? For her, you’re never really there. She doesn’t see you. Not like she sees Jarett.”

You see me…

“I know you hate her.”

“I can’t hate her.”

My eyes fly to his in shock.

“She doesn’t deserve you. But I’m so happy she was selfish and had you anyway. But now she needs to let you go. She can’t take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“We all do. I have unlimited resources and I still can’t stand entirely alone. I was cracking. Badly. Until I got my little doll. But I don’t want to just look to you for comfort and support. I want to be your little doll too.”

There’s too much emotion swirling in his eyes. I’m used to his hatred, his narcissism, his pain, his cockiness, his mirth, but his vulnerability, the pleading as he looks into my eyes feels like too much. I turn away, drawing in a breath in an attempt to calm my racing heart.

“And that’s the difference. You can’t be a doll for someone who doesn’t return the favour. They just use you, then set you aside on the shelf for later.”

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask, my voice cracking, but then I freeze as realisation dawns on me. “I’m just like her…desperate for her love and acceptance, just like she’s desperate for Jarett’s. But she won’t ever get it. I won’t get it. She’s shown me time and again that I don’t matter, but still, just like she chases Jarett, I keep chasing her. I keep trying…Why?”

“Because you’re a rag doll, Elle. You can’t help it. You want to love and get love. Sometimes you’re forgotten, discarded, or fallen under the bed, but you’re always there waiting to be picked up just as good as new. You bend but you don’t break. And she takes advantage of that.”

“That sounds fucking horrible,” I say, a snap in my tone. “Is it supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. But it’s the truth.”

“Then I don’t want to be a damn rag doll. I want to break into tiny little pieces that slice whoever tries to pick me up and piece me back together. I want to shatter.”

He cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Trust me, you don’t. But you can stop bending to other people’s will.”

“Says the puppet master.”

“I’ve cut the cords, haven’t I? Don’t let anyone else pick them up. Not even your mother.”

I watch his handsome face, tracing every feature. It’s the same face that once sneered down at me in the auditorium.

“I can’t believe you of all people are giving me a pep talk,” I whisper.

“At the start of the term, I wouldn’t have spit on you if you were on fire.”

“And now?”

“I’d burn trying. I told you, I want to be your net. Let me be the one the firefighters hold up to catch you. If you don’t need to jump, good. But if you have to, I’ll be right there waiting for you to fall into my arms. For you, they’ll always be open.”

“Why?” I rasp. “Why are you…”

“So desperate to take care of you? You took care of me too, Elle, and you were just as desperate to do so. Starting from that night, you stayed with me in the greenhouse. You went into the spring just for me despite how terrified of the water you were. There are a lot of whys and a lot of reasons, but the biggest one is that I love you.”

My heart squeezes and suddenly I believe those three little words just a little more.

“Five minutes!” a student, one of the dozens of stage managers, screams, whacking the door before peering her head in and moving on to the next room.

Five minutes isn’t enough time to tell him about Sylo’s father, right?

Isn’t it? Or are you just being influenced by your stepmother already?

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