Page 125 of Reconciling With the Rival

“What?”

“You just dropped like twenty bombs on us in the span of half an hour, and you're acting like it’s nothing!” Hads tells me.

“And?”

Paige grabs my hand, squeezing it softly. “You might be a superhero, because I don’t know how you’ve been carrying all of this for the past few months on your shoulders.”

“It didn't seem difficult. It’s what I’ve always done, but lately, I’ve been tired. Exhausted. I don’t think I can handle one more bad thing happening.” I mightactuallyhit rock bottom if anything else were to happen. “I’m not good at sharing my feelings, and I’ve always dealt with things myself.”

“You don’t have to anymore, Ells,” Hads says, her hand coming around to my shoulder. “You have us.”

“No, I know—”

Grant cuts me off. “Ells, I know we’ve always joked about you being the mom friend of the group, but that doesn't mean you always have to put everyone before yourself.”

“Guys, I—”

Oliver, of all people, cuts me off. “What you’ve been going through is some serious shit, Ella. Just because you’re always taking care of us doesn't mean when you’re going through some shit, we don't want to hear about it, because we do.”

I know that. Deep down, I do, but it’s still hard for me to rely on people, especially when I’m always afraid that in a few weeks or months, they’ll leave like my mom did. “It’s my fatal flaw. I care way too much about everyone else and not enough about myself.”

“We know, Ella.” Paige smiles at me. “But we love you anyway. We just want you to know if you need a shoulder to lean on, someone to rant with, or advice, we’re here.”

“And we’re not going anywhere,” Hads says, a flicker of disappointment on her face because one of us did leave and not come back.

“Damn right.” Grant reaches back and puts his hand on my knee. “Ella, we want to take care of you as much as you take care of us all the time. You just have to let us in.”

Tears start to fall from my eyes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear, deep down. That I'm not too much. That I’m worth the extra effort of people wanting to do what I do for them. My whole life, I’ve been searching for someone who would do that for me, and now, I’ve found four people who want to.

Not because I asked them to, but because they love me.

“Thank you,” I say as Paige wipes my tears. “Can I start now?”

“Go for it, babe,” Hads says.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Oliver says as he turns his signal on. He’s the last person I thought would want to listen to all my shit, but he’s full of surprises. Paige must really be doing a number on him.

“Okay, one thing at a time,” I say as I take a deep breath. “What the hell do I do about my mom?”

“P,” Grant says, throwing the conversion to her.

“Well, it sounds like you finally got to tell her everything you’ve wanted to for years. How did it feel?”

“Freeing.” That’s the first and only word that came to mind. I know whatever I said isn't going to change her mind and undo all the shit she put us through, but I feel better knowing she understands how her actions hurt me.

“And do you want to have a relationship with her going forward?”

That’s the question I’ve been struggling with the past week, because I have no idea. I can only shrug my shoulders.

“It sounds like she didn't apologize for the past,” Oliver says.

“She didn't, and I hated how my dad and sister ambushed me with her on Thanksgiving, of all days.” It was supposed to be a normal holiday like it has been my whole life, but of course, that day of all days was when they decided to do it. “I don’t think I need her anymore.”

That’s what happens when you grow up: you stop needing or relying on your parents and you become an adult who can stand on your own two feet. I’ve had my dad there for me, but have I? He was working so much, he barely raised me. It’s pretty much been Lizzie and I since I could remember, I basically raised myself.

Did I ever really need them? Yes. It would have been nice to experience my childhood and live without all those responsibilities hanging over my head, but I also don’t need her now. I don’t need my mother, even though I’ve always secretly hoped she’d come back my whole life.

“What do I do about my family? They haven't spoken to me since I stormed out on Thanksgiving.”

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