Page 94 of Choosing a Forever
I’ll need Lizzie’s help again.
Chapter 33
Mackenzie
17 years old…
The bed dips as Lizzie lies down, and the simple fact she’s here makes the tears that stopped only two hours ago come back full force.
I didn’t know I had anything left to cry, but I guess the body does what it wants.
Her arms wrap around me, but she doesn't say anything as sobs wrack through my body.
I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of the pain. I’m tired of feeling like a burden to everyone around me. I’m tired of being here.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper into the darkness. “I don’t want to be alive, Lizzie. It hurts too much.”
Lizzie’s arms band around me tighter. “You’ve been through so much, and I know you’re tired. I know nothing I say can change your mind, but know that I’d miss you. You’re my twin, Mack. My sister in all the ways that count. It’d be devastating to lose you. Your parents would miss you, too. And the twins.”
I sniff. “The twins wouldn’t even realize I was gone.”
“They would.” She strokes my hair. “If you’ll let me, I’ll be strong for you until you can be strong for yourself. Just… please stay. At least until graduation. Don’t let him win. Don’t let him take any more from you.”
Screw school.
I don’t want to see my classmates or hear people whisper about me and listen to the rumors spread.
“He already won. He didn’t have to be rushed to the hospital. He didn't have to be poked and prodded and told he might not be able to have kids. I’m seventeen, Lizzie. No man is going to want me when I’m this—thisbroken.”
“You’re not broken, Mackenzie. You went through something fucking traumatizing, and you got dealt a really shitty hand. Some day, a man will come along and love you for everything you are.”
“What if I want kids, though?”
“Then you adopt. Or have a surrogate. Pregnancy isn’t the only way to have kids.”
“You’re right.” I sigh. I’m only seventeen. I don’t need to worry about it now.
Lizzie changes topics—bless her—and I try to focus on what she’s saying, but my mind keeps straying to blue eyes and golden hair.
There’s no chance of a happily ever after for us.
Especially not now.
I should have known something was up when Lizzie asked me to come shopping with her.
First, neither of us like shopping on Saturdays. Everyone else is out, and the crowds are terrible.
Second, there are only two stores in the Orem mall with plus size clothing, and neither of them are her style. She usually shops online or thrifts, so the fact she drove us all the way to the mall is suspicious as hell.
At least it gave me a chance to find something more…appropriateto wear to Tal’s parents’ tomorrow for dinner. Something that says “meeting the in-laws” and not “I’m going through my teenage goth phase at twenty-nine.”
Once I found a dress, she insisted on taking me to lunch. Whichisn’tabnormal. Lizzie’s a giver, always has been. She likes to spoil the people she loves, and usually I don’t feel like there’s an ulterior motive.
Today, I feel like she’s fishing for something. She kept pointing out things she thought Tal would like and making comments about how we can double date if she finally finds a partner she can stand for more than two weeks.
I keep reminding her Tal and I are temporary—even if it feels more and more like a lie—but she keeps brushing it off.
Halfway through our lunch, she gives me a scrutinizing look, making my skin pebble. It’s the look she gets before she reads you like an open book.
