Page 302 of Ruin Me Gently

And I was supposed to drop everything and clean up her mess like I always did.

I told myself I didn’t care. But my fingers were already pulling my earbuds out, my legs already moving.

I stopped outside her door. For a second, I almost walked away. Almost turned back, crawled under my blankets, and pretended I hadn’t heard a thing.

But then I pushed the door open.

She was sprawled halfway off the bed, one arm clawing weakly at the sheets like she was trying to pull herself back up. Her face was twisted, pale and sweaty, dark bruises blooming across her cheek and jaw—ugly, swollen smears of purple and yellow. Her mouth was streaked with vomit, thin trails of it smeared across her chin and down her neck. Her chest rose and fell in these awful, shallow little gasps that barely seemed to be keeping her alive.

The thumping was her kicking at the wall, trying to get my attention.

Scratching. Hitching. Struggling.

White pills scattered across the floor like spilled teeth. Some still whole, others half-melted into grimy puddles of spit. The empty bottles lay on their sides, labels peeled halfway off, the warnings printed on them barely readable.

Her eyes found me.

Wide. Bloodshot. Begging.

Her fingers jerked toward me in a desperate, twitching motion like she thought I could fix this. Like I was supposed to come running, like I was supposed to save her.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

“No,” I said, my voice flat and sharp.

Her hand twitched again, and something cold slithered down my spine.

I stepped back.

“I’m not saving you,” I said. “You hear me?” My voice wobbled, but I forced it out. “I’m done. I’m done pulling you out of this.”

Her body jerked, and a ragged, wet gag tore from her throat, her knuckles smearing vomit across the sheets as her fingers clawed for something to hold on to.

Gasping. Choking. Fading.

I felt nothing.

No panic, no guilt, no instinct screaming at me to drop to my knees and help.

Just… anger.

I was just a kid. I needed you. And you chose him.

Her whole body shook, thin and frail like her bones were trying to rattle out of her skin.

“I begged you,” I said, voice quieter now, colder. “I begged you for years.” My throat tightened, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. “You don’t get to reach for me anymore.”

Her chest bucked suddenly, whole body lurching like something inside her was about to snap.

I clenched my fists at my sides, nails digging tiny crescents into my palms.

I should’ve moved. Should’ve grabbed her. Should’ve done something.

But I didn’t.

Because in some cold, ugly corner of my mind, I knew what this meant.

If I just stood here… if I just let this happen… it would be over.

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