Page 84 of Unbearable

“Hey, it could be worse.” Rawley laughs, his shoulders shaking. “You could be me.” I don’t agree with him; though he’s probably right.

When I don’t say anything, Rawley stares at me. “Did you call him after he left?”

If I text you, don’t answer.

I sigh because it’s all I can do. The thought of him breaks my heart and sends a sharp pain through my veins. “No. I let him leave. What would I even say?”

Rawley shrugs and though he’s making conversation with me, he doesn’t seem like himself tonight. His attention seeming to be on something else. “Tell him you love him and you want to be with him.”

I side-eye him. “Oh really? Well, maybe you should take your own advice here and tell Sophie that.”

His eyes narrow, the deepest hurt just below the surface. “It wouldn’t make a goddamn bit of difference if I did.”

In many ways, Tyler and Rawley are very similar, hurt in the same ways, which is why the two of them are at it so often. They’re both trying to get the attention off of them by taking out their frustrations on one another.

“Rawley, seriously, what’s going on with you?” The only reason I ask is because while he’s high, he might actually answer me truthfully. “You’re treating Sophie like shit and pushing everyone away from you.”

He’s quiet for about a minute and staring at his hands. He doesn’t look at me when he begins to speak. “Did you know the last conversation I had with Dad, I told him to fuck off and stop trying to make me into Red? Just before he died, I told him to fuck off. My last two words to our dad werefuck off.” He takes the joint from my hand when I open my window, attempting to push some of the haze out of my room. “My entire life I feel like he tried so fucking hard to make me like him,” he says, continuing but staring at his hands. “He didn’t do it on purpose, but deep down, he wanted his boys running his shop. I fuckin’ get it. I do. It makes sense. I’ve never wanted it though, but in his eyes, my career choice was the wrong choice. He didn’t come out and say it, but I could tell. So I stayed at the shop after he died. You know, make him happy when I couldn’t before. But shit, Raven, it’s fucking torture. Ihateworking on cars. Nothing gives me the feeling music does. The satisfaction and adrenaline I feel when I’m performing, that’s what makes me happy. That shop is Red’s. I’m not a part of it and I don’t want to be. All I want is music and a stage.”

I know there’s more. There always is with him. “And what about Sophie? That performance at the bar on New Year’s.” I whistle in a slow breath. “That was something else.”

He rolls his eyes, showing his annoyance. “IknowI’m fucking up. I don’t need a reminder.” He’s not making any excuses for his behavior; he usually doesn’t if you ask him, but then he sighs, his shoulders sagging. Knocking his hat off his head, he brings it down to his lap and groans. “I fucking love her so much but I can’t make myself take her back. Out of every girl I’m with, none compare to her. But I can’t. Every time I look at her, I think of her deliberately making that choice to break my heart.”

“So why keep putting her through it, Rawley. Just end it completely and walk away. Don’t keep playing this game of push and pull. It makes you look like an asshole who’s purposely trying to hurt her now. Your point was made a long time ago.”

“I know…. I don’t understand it myself.” His forehead creases in deep concentration. “I can’t end it with her. I would if I could but I can’t do it. I can’t get her out of my head. When I take a girl home, I only think about Sophie. It’s like every other girl is just trying to fill the aching void in my chest she created and it never works.” He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair and settling his hand on the back of his neck again. It’s a motion he does often, but it seems to ease his frustration. “Why’d she have to do it? Why?”

He wants an answer and I can’t give it to him, just like I can’t give myself one as to why Tyler and I can’t work.

“Rawley,” I begin, but then think about what I’m saying. “She made a mistake. Put yourself in her position if the tables were turned. You can’t constantly make her feel like you’re holding it over her head. People make mistakes and sometimes you have to forgive them. Holding a grudge over her makes you the weak one, which you’re finding out. It’s made you bitter and someone I barely recognize anymore. Forgive her or let her go.”

Well fuck, maybe I should be taking my own advice here.

He’s quiet, his gaze on the window and the smoke curling around the frame and then out the window with a breeze of crisp winter air. “Dad told me once that you can’t love someone until you’ve had to forgive them. Maybe he’s right.”

I think he says that to me because we both needed to hear it. My mom always told us the best relationships are the ones that made it through darkness. The ones where people look at one another and see hurt and say, you’re worth it.

Tyler’s face as he was leaving haunts me. Will we ever be at that point or did I ruin what we could have had?

The thought that I ruined it with him is the worst feeling, one that gnaws at me all morning. He tried and I turned him away. For what?

Well I know why but it still hurts to know he wants more and he can’t tell me why.

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