Page 111 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

She ripped the blanket and sheets off me—a move my mom used on me in middle school when I was going through puberty and could never get enough sleep.

“I’m not a child,” I growled.

“Good, then you can shower yourself,” she said.

Knowing Liv would never back down and she could get her other brothers to do whatever she wanted, I got out of bed and stumbled in my boxers to the bathroom. I needed to piss anyway.

Outside of the bathroom door, Gage said, “He’s been like this for two weeks. Just leaves the room to get food, and then it’s back to lying around. He must sleep fourteen hours a day. At least.”

“I can hear you,” I yelled, feeling like absolute shit from all the time spent in bed. But he was right. Sleeping was easier than being awake with the pain of what I lost. At least sleep was black. In my waking hours, all I could see was her face.

Her face.

Telling me it could never work.

Her face.

Pushing me away no matter how much I begged her to let me stay.

Cohen, Jonas, and Steve had texted me, saying they were sorry about the split, telling me to give Hen some time, but I hadn’t replied. Hen had spoken. And I’d heard her. The gaping hole in my chest was proof enough of that.

Liv yelled, “I don’t hear the shower going!”

I shook my head and got off the pot, flicking the shower handle. Water poured from the rainfall showerhead, and I stepped in. Cold water pricked at my skin, but it quickly warmed. I felt just as tired, just as hollow in the shower as I’d felt outside of it, but now that I was in, I might as well make use of it.

I finished showering and used the disposable razor and travel-size shaving cream to shave my face. When I was done, there was a fresh pair of gray sweats on the bed, which had been completely stripped of sheets, along with new underwear and a white T-shirt.

My siblings weren’t going away. Not until we talked.

So I got dressed and walked out of the room into Gage’s open-space living area that had a view of the entire city. The three of them sat at his glass table, looking right at me.

“Join us,” Gage said, and Rhett shoved a Styrofoam box and plastic silverware toward the open seat.

“Eat,” he ordered.

“You’re just as bad as Liv,” I muttered, dropping into the seat and opening the box. Inside was some of my favorite food—a pulled pork sandwich and coleslaw. I forced myself to take a bite, but it tasted like mushy cardboard.

They watched me stomach three mouthfuls before Gage said, “Tyler, you can’t live like this.”

I looked up to him, the hollow ache in my chest bigger than ever. “I don’t know how to live without her anymore. It’s like the second I met her, she became my air. Every morning, I woke up, waiting for the second I’d see her at work, hear her voice. And now that she’s gone, I don’t know how to look forward to the next day or how to even have the motivation to get up anymore.”

“It’s fucking hard,” Rhett said, pain ghosting in his eyes. “But you get your ass up and you do it anyway because she’s not the only person you love.” He tapped at the windmill tattoo on his inner bicep. “We’re here too, and it hurts like hell to see our brother like this.”

I pushed the box of food away and scored my fingers through my hair. “Shit, guys. I’m sorry.”

Liv reached over, putting her hand on my forearm. “We know you’re hurting like hell, but you’re not alone. Whatever you need to get back on your feet again, we’re here.”

I didn’t have a plan, not even close. But I would find a way to get up and go. If not for me, if not for Hen, then for them.

68

Henrietta

Confession: I miss him.

They saytime heals all wounds, but it had been two months, and I missed Tyler more than ever before.

Instead of seeing him every day, Janessa made her rounds in the office, watching everything I did and pointing out everything she thought I was doing wrong. It was exhausting. And miserable.

---