Page 56 of Hate Wrecked

“I know,” she whispers. “And you shouldn’t have had to.”

“I was close to doing it, though, in the end. When you chose him, I almost begged you to choose me instead. I practiced speeches in my little apartment. I imagined what it would be like to have you walk away from him. Maybe that’s when I fell in love with writing stories, because I was telling myself a fictional one starring you and me. Because I got reality wrong.”

“You didn’t, though,” she says, her voice a hush over the water.

“It serves no one to tell yourself lies, to tellmelies.”

“I was in love with you,” she admits, and at this, I grow angry.

I push off the ground, leaving the warmth of our fire drawing us closer. I hear Riley behind me. “Rowan…” she starts…but I don’t let her finish.

“You don’t pick someone else when you love someone. You don’t do that, Riley. That’s what my dad did. Or maybe not. Maybe he loved her more than my mother. I don’t know. I’ll never know. But you can be honest with yourself right now.”

“Iambeing honest,” she yells, reaching for me. I dance away, walking to the other side of the fire.

“Try again,” I say, crossing my arms. The firelight illuminates her anger and hurt.

We can’t escape each other here. Even in our waking life before this, we couldn’t escape each other. Despite the miles and the time, I felt her.

Riley looks up at the sky, her hands clenched at her side. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Rowan.”

“Then tell me,” I dare her.

“I couldn’t stop. Every little meeting, every time I saw him, I fell deeper and deeper into it,” she seethes, and maybe I don’t want to fucking hear it.

I shake my head, and she says my name like a warning. “No, Rowan, you’re going to listen. This is what you wanted.”

I clench my jaw, letting her go on.

“It’s like you said. All the girls he dated were on the verge of eighteen. And look at the girls after me—the drugs and the drinking. The way they wanted to die after him. Do you think they fell for him because he felt safe? Or because the thought of not having him felt like withdrawal? He’s so fucking good at it. Feeding us just enough and befriending someone we love so he can get closer. Your pride wants to make you angry at me for choosing him, but I don’t care. I won’t take it. Maybe that’s not why you’re mad, anyway,” she seethes, hitting me in my chest with the truth.

I close my eyes, willing the tears away; but it’s in vain. I turn back to her, tears on my cheeks and my breath ragged. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” she asks, defiance in her eyes. Waiting for another lie.

“I regret it all, Riley. Okay? I should have protected you. It’s what I was trained to do. I should have made sure you were never alone with him. I should have made sure you never became his friend, fell into more. It’s not jealousy; it’s fucking regret, okay? I know what he does, and I’ve seen the aftermath. We all have. The fucking world has, and you’re the one to blame in their eyes.”

“And you let yourself do it, too!” Riley cries out. “I can handle the fucking tabloids and the gossip magazines, but I couldn’t bear you blaming me too. I needed someone, and I had no one. No one except my sisters and my warnings. That’s why I’ve watched them like a hawk all these years. I don’t want it to happen to them, too. I can’t let that happen.”

I rush around the fire, pulling her into my arms. I could have watched her talk like that forever, rapt, a captive audience after days of coldness. I want to put my mouth to hers, to be drawn into her lifeforce. “You took care of them,” I say.

“I tried. Maybe I’m not always good at taking care of myself. But I take care of them. I miss it.”

“You have him here,” I say, pulling away, jerking my chin at the cat in the sand, batting the vine around.

“And you?”

“Okay,” I say, softly.

“Okay?”

“You can take care of me.” I can think of a million ways, and I can see in her eyes that she can, too.

“Starting when?”

“Starting now,” I admit, my body humming in anticipation.

I think of the water, when she wrapped her bare body around me, when I let myself go. And the way I retreated, ashamed and angry at myself. I let my guard down and let myself feel okay for a moment, and it made me feel weak.

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