Page 231 of Swallow Your Sorries

“You’re so sure she approached him first?”

“Yes, because there’s something about Jarett. Not to Jaime. Not to you, but to her. Once I find out what it is, it will finally make sense.”

I’m not so sure. It’s hard to imagine Jarett having anything at all.

“Did you take some psychology courses?” At his confused look, I say, “You seem to be aware of people. When you came to my dorm in the shower, you said a lot of things about me.”

“So you’re admitting they’re true.”

“I admit nothing. I’m just pointing out that you read people. Even yourself. You’re unapologetically aware of how selfish and entitled you are.”

“Only if I’m using my selfishness to get what I want and what I know I deserve.”

“And delusional.” I nod. “But I think you may be right. Or at least you may have a point about Mum.”

“And you.”

I ignore him. “So that’s the hold Jarett has over her…a hold she put over herself?”

“That’s why she can’t get over him. He can’t fix her problems. She created them,” he says, still stroking my hair. “And no level one psych classes either. I’ve just been to dozens of therapists.”

“You say my mother subjected me to a lot via Jarett. It sounds like your mother did too, so why can’t you give my mother grace?”

“They aren’t justifiable, but my mother stuck with the Auclairs because she knew it’d give me an infinite future that even she, a prima ballerina, couldn’t. In comparison to my father, my mother was destitute.”

“Which is to say not at all.”

“Me being an Auclair gives me an inordinate amount of possibilities. She put up with Bart for the name. For my future, she tried to justify it by sheltering me. By keeping me away from him and his opinions. It’s why I danced ballet despite his wishes. To be fair, he didn’t know. I saw my father maybe three times a year. Your mother kept you around Jarett year-round and offered you a future as a deli worker.”

“At least it’s an honourable job.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But it’s only one possibility isn’t it?”

I quiet. Could I fault my mother, if at the very least I was a blueblood from her poor decisions?

I’d rather be miserable and rich than miserable and poor.

But then again, why do we have to be miserable at all? And both Gant and I are miserable.

“And some things are just obvious to read, Elle. Like your growing anxiety. What’s wrong?”

I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want Gant’s intervention. I don’t want his net. If I fall, it’ll be into his arms and who is he exactly?

I still feel like we’re in some surreal limbo despite the new titles. Until we find the driver. Until we graduate. None of it feels real. But why does it have to be real for us to enjoy it?

“My lack of possibilities,” I mutter.

“You can have them with me.”

No, I can’t.

Maybe I could have them adjacent to him. But not with him.

“If you’d just accept me. I’ve accepted you. I’ve accepted why I’m thoroughly obsessed with you.”

“Because we’re bonded over a traumatic event? Since you’re so attuned, I’m sure that explanation has run across your mind.”

“You didn’t cause my trauma, Elle. The driver did. The tape did. My mother did. Your father did. But you didn’t. You’ve been my therapy.”

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