Page 216 of Did They Break You

That momentary fantasy of her having my kids, helping me cook in my kitchen, giving her space and freedom and money to write whatever the hell she wants. I don’t read many books and I don’t think that’d ever change, but if she wanted to write ‘em, she could do just fucking that. It was a childish dream.

It’s time for me to grow up, and that means letting her do the same. Without me.

“Is it Mom?” Tristan asks quietly, looking at his plate, his shoulders hunched. Something like rage sweeps through my veins as I think about her yelling at him. Belittling him. All the ways she tried to break us down.

“Yeah,” I finally say, not giving a fuck if I shouldn’t give him another reason to hate her. “It’s Mom.” And Chase, his dad, Maya, fucking everyone. It’s not the money Mom has for me that I give a fuck about anymore.

It’s Remi’s safety.

Tristan’s.

Dad still hasn’t moved during all of this.

Finally, Tristan speaks again. “Don’t let her ruin everything for ya, Cort.” Then he grabs another piece of bacon and pops it in his mouth.

I stare at him, a smile curving my lips. He didn’t ask about Remi. About me wanting to be with her, or her wanting to be with me. He didn’t question how that could work. Why we might feel that way toward one another.

He just accepted it.

I look to my dad, and find him watching me, dipping his chin slightly. Almost as if to say,“Your move.”

CHAPTER

SIXTY

REMI

I pacein my dark room, trying to talk myself out of it. I’ve been huddled up in bed all weekend, attempting to avoid this very thing.

Don’t do it.

Don’t fucking do it, Remi.

You’re brave. Not stupid.

You’re brave.

But then I hear it again.

“No one understands, Remi, because it doesn’t make fucking sense.”

“We’re just living in this fantasy world where things work out between two people like us and they just... don’t.”

The memories burst forth all over again. Not fromthat night.From Friday night on Cortland’s porch. From the weeksafterthe assault. The emptiness. That rock thrown in the well that never touched the bottom.

I can’t go back there again.

I look at the blade between my fingers.

It’s like an itch that needs scratching. The only way I know how to deal with the pain of losing him.

But you never ever had him,a voice inside my head says.He was just feeling guilty.Just like Van said.

And maybe I was just feeling lonely.

I stop moving. Stop pacing.

And it’s an itch, yeah, but it feels like it might be controllable this time. Like I could resist.

---