Page 98 of Never To Suffer

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You. Deserve. Better.

Theo’s words play in my head, but I never expected I’d use them against Dani. This isn’t who she is. This is—I stop my excuses before they can form. She holds everything in until she explodes, and when that happens, I become her verbal punching bag. She spits her venom, and I’ve built an immunity, but she’s found the weak spot in my armor. I’ll always fight for her, always. But I’m tired of fighting against her. Against who she’s always been.

“Dani, this isn’t about the kitchen, the furniture, or some fabric you didn’t sew together with your own hands. You’re scared about Skylar, and probably still pissed off that he left when he got addicted, that we weren’t there for him. You think we failed him? I’m struggling with that, too. But that’s the past.Are you upset about Theo, or stressed about your sister? If that’s the case, we should talk, not scream.” I shake my head, hoping this isn’t falling on deaf ears, but I’m already seeing that it is. “Don’t take it out on me! Don’t hide your fake rage behind the money I earned in?—”

“You expect me to believe that you went to Japan, told your dad where to shove his promotion, and they still paid you? That’s bullshit, Xander. How stupid do you think I am? You don’t have a job, so you must have gotten the money somewhere. You’re screwing them again, aren’t you?”

I close my eyes and take a slow breath, repeating the mantra I’ve said for years in my mind.She’s not mad at you.She’s taking it out on you because you can take it. I can’t take it today, though.I should never, again.

“You don’t mean any of this.”

“Maybe I do! If you hadn’t?—”

“Please, I’m begging you, Beetle. Please don’t do this.”

She lets out something between a growl and a scream before she storms into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. I pull out my phone and send a text to her.

“Fine! I’ll go stay at Theo’s!”

“What good does that do? There’s a giant hole in our wall!” She yells through the door. “Besides, he’s in PARIS! With his DAUGHTER!”

“You know what? The hell with this, I’ll go to Paris.” I mumble, as I stand up and start grabbing my things. “Get as far away from you as I can, since that’s what you want!” I shove my laptop and my book into my backpack and yell back to the door, “I’m not doing this anymore, Dani, I’m not. I’m done. Figure your shit out and let me know if you want me to bother coming back, or if we’re done. Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep giving you this.”

“Giving me what?” She snaps, whipping the door open so she can stare at me.

“That safety net that says I’ll come back, because this time, I won’t. You’ll be adding me to that list I’ve tried so hard not to be part of. The long list of people who’ve walked out of your life because you pushed them out.”

I don’t wait for her to respond; I don’t want her to. I storm for the door, rip it open, and let it slam shut behind me. I stand there in the cold, dim hallway. This part never gets easier for me, and I don’t think it does for her either. She understands each time it happens, I’m pushed closer to the edge, closer to letting go of us. She tries to beat the system by pushing people out before they can walk out. Forcing them out of her life so she doesn’t need to face her own demons. But I’m always there, always willing to take one for the team, to let her work it out of her system knowing I’m a yo-yo and I’ll only go so far before I come spinning on back to her.

But I’ve brought scissors to this fight, and I’m cutting the string. It’s the worst possible time for this to happen, which makes it the best time for it, too. I wait in the stairwell for her to leave for a Skylar-less rehearsal before I head over to Theo’s empty apartment and pack up everything Baggy needs. She hates the carrier, but I coax her in there with salmon.

I hate doing this. The whole idea of not coming back to Dani rips my heart out, but a night alone may remind her that what she’s asking for might not be what she wants.

I sit in the bedroom under the window, stroking Baggy’s soft fur to help her relax in the carrier. The tears won’t stop as I force myself to picture life without Dani, trying to convince myself I could make it on my own. “I guess I wouldn’t be on my own, would I Baggy?” I say, wiping my face with my free hand. I glare at the wall. Knowing she’s right there on the other side isn’thelping matters. “But I couldn’t stay here. You think your dad would move?”

MEOW!

“Yeah, I don’t think so, either.”

Usually, when she throws me out, I set up a long-term hookup. Someone who will let me share their bed for a week or two. My friend’s list isn’t long, but friends who would willingly put me up for a few nights? I have even fewer options there. I have one I trust enough to know he won’t expect special favors or beat my ass when I try to leave. Small victories, I guess.

Baggy lets out a low mewling noise as I climb down the stairs with her and load her into Theo’s car, screaming her displeasure that I’m taking her. Or she’s pissed she’s out of salmon. I strap her carrier into the back seat, making sure she’s secure before I climb in and pull out of the garage. I’ll be back, but I’m unsure what or who I’ll be coming back to.

CHAPTER 41

PARIS

KATE NASH

Sylvie,Luca, and I closed the coffee shop that first night, and again the second night. On the third, I watched them both play in a production at their college, and I cried like a damn baby when Sylvie performed her solo. Marie sat next to me, holding my hand and crying with me. We went for dinner and drinks after, laughing and talking about music and art. It was the first time I broached the subject of her mother since I’d gotten there, not knowing how it would go over.

“Your mother, if you don’t mind me talking about her, would have been so proud to hear you tonight, Pixie. Absolutely beautiful and haunting, you’re a natural in that chair, becoming one with the cello and moving the audience the way you did. And you, Luca, Christ, man. How long have you been playing?”

“I started playing violin at five. My mother insisted I play something, anything. She thought piano, maybe. But I liked Sherlock Holmes, and when he played. I loved the sound of the music, haunting yet peaceful. It made my heart leap with joy one moment, and weep the next.”

I watched the pair squeeze each other’s hands, taking the compliments in stride with only a little blushing. Sylvie circledback to what I’d said earlier, “Do you really think Mama would have been proud? Of me, of all of this?”

“More than proud, sweetheart. I can see the three of you now, playing together at the house with?—”