Page 136 of My Lovely Tragedy
I’m the only one allowed to feel disdain.
“When I say I’m fine, I mean it. And I am—fine. No need to speculate about me when you think I’m sleeping.” They all jump up with wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights looks. I roll my eyes, aggravated.
“Hey, B,” Cobain says, the only one not looking utterly sheepish.
“Again, I’m fine.”
“We weren’t—” Dexter tries, but Benji cuts him off.
“We were just trying to make sure you’re okay. Because we’re worried about you. Where have you been?”
Well, he certainly isn’t burying the lead anymore. Taking me at my word, which I guess I appreciate. More than the bullshit, anyway, and he knows that.
“Gone.” A single, sharp word.
“Gone?” he parrots. “What the fuck do you mean,gone?”
I lift a brow as I lean against the wall, arms crossed over my chest to contain the erratic flutters moving up from my gut. “I mean exactly what I said. I was gone, and now I’m back, and it’s over.”
Benji’s eyes narrow, pinned right on me. “What’s over?” I blanch hearing my words repeated back to me. I pick up the key still dangling from around my neck and glide it back and forth over the slinky chain.
“Everything. Tobias isn’t your concern because he didn’t do anything. I wasn’t missing, I just…” I glance upward, then puff out a breath of resolve. “It’s exactly like everyone thought. I was on a bender. I don’t remember a lot. Was drinking too much.”Anything but the truth.“Smoking too. And…” I wince. Maybe I can make this a little more believable because they’re all looking at me like I’ve grown several heads. “And other shit, too. I don’t know what you want me to say other than I fucked up, and I’m sorrier than I can even tell you.”
“DidTobiasdo something to you? Did he give you all the shit?” Benji takes a step forward, body radiating tension. Vibrating with anger. And fuck, I know it’sforme, not because of me, but I really can’t stand it.
“Tobias was only with me in the beginning, Benji, back the fuck off him. I was on my own mostly. Broke my phone right after my call to you and was in a place where I couldn’t call.”
“It’s the age of cell phones. And the internet, B, and you’re telling me you couldn’t fucking findsome wayto contact us? To at least let us know you weren’t dead in a fucking ditch somewhere?” He’s a foot away now, chest rising and falling so fast, it’s a mimicry of a hummingbird’s.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“That’sbullshit!” he shouts, shoving his finger in my face. I look at it, back to his face, twisted and red with outrage. “You’re lying through your teeth right now. And I don’t know why—or who you’re protecting…” His voice cuts off with a gasping gulp of air. Tears spill over glassy eyes, shimmering with the onslaught of more. His arm falls, catching my hand on the way down, and without thinking, I reach out and grab it, wrapping my fingers around his and squeezing.
He looks down between us. Salty tears splash over our skin, and it takes everything in me not to break at the sight, remembering the very same, but Tobias’s and my own. Hushed breaths and desperate pleas. Crimson and gold.
But dwelling on Tobias right now won’t get me through this.
After,I tell myself.Just get through this, then you can for as long as you need.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” I say. His head jerks up, flushed and wet. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up. And yeah, I almost died. Almost…” I swallow.Just fucking say it, Brooklyn. It isn’tentirelya lie, and they deservesomething.“I almost killed myself.” Gasps ring out around us, some high-pitched, most low and confused. Worried. “But I’m here now. I’m alive.” I tighten my grip, drawing his attention back to our clasped hands.
Bodies draw closer and I feel their intent before I see it, but I still don’t have enough time to prepare for their touch. Around my shoulders, my waist. Heads dropping, breaths billowing out. Whispers and apologies—and what they are apologizing for, I have no fucking idea, but I don’t say anything about it. Because in all honesty, I don’t care.
Let them be sorry.
I’m letting myself be sorry. Hemorrhaging sorrow and animosity.
Not for what I did—I don’t think I could ever bring myself to regret that—but for everything I’ve lost.Who I’ve lost.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
BROOKLYN
“You don’t haveto if… you know…” Benji clasps the back of his neck and rubs, looking away.
“It’s fine. I probably should, huh?” Even as I say it, I tug on my necklace, dragging the chain over my neck. The bruises still hurt, even as they’ve started to heal.
Two days.
