Page 127 of Carry On
“Okay,” I repeated. I didn’t know what else to say, but he smiled so easily that I believed him. It was okay that I couldn’t vocalize it. Maybe one day, when it’d be more than unexpected word vomit.
He fell silent as I went back to getting ready, my mind spiraling a mile a minute as I did. Thankfully, most of my shit was packed and ready to go already. I grabbed my briefcase and to-go coffee cup.
“I’ll see you later, Lucky,” I said.
“Goodbye, Lincoln,” Nash whispered.
CHAPTER 83
NASH
Iwastiredoffighting.
Fighting to be heard.
Fighting to be seen.
Fighting to get help.
Fighting to find my place.
Fighting to matter.
Fighting to carry a weight that no one else had to bear.
I was so fucking exhausted. It clung to every fiber of my being, dragging me down in a way I couldn’t stop.
I just couldn’t do it anymore.
This fight… it was mine. No one else’s. I couldn’t burden Lincoln with it. He was too good, too kind. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved a happy life. A full life. A life not burdened by my entire existence. A life where I didn’t use him to chase some kind of momentary peace.
You can change that,the voice whispered, echoing in every corner of my mind.
I knew I could.
I wanted to.
Had to.
Needed to.
I left my room organized, clothes folded, and my few things put together neatly on the bed. There was a letter for Peter along with my dog tag. Everything had a place with the effort to make the transition easier on Lincoln. I didn’t want to burden him any more than I already had.
Rubbing the heel of my hand over my cheek, I swiped away stray tears as the emotions continued to spill over. Wave after wave of chaos catastrophically collided inside me. Painful and relentless, floodgates opened in a way I could no longer hold shut.
I took a long swig of whiskey to numb the pain and relished the distracting bite as I swallowed. I chased it with a handful of pills.
Whiskey.
Pills.
Whiskey.
Pills.
Both went down easily until the two prescription bottles were empty. I could already feel the two sedatives I took earlier in the hour hitting, washing away the pain in a sense of calm. Maybe it was silly and unrealistic, but I wanted one real moment where I didn’t feel the pain anymore.
It’ll be okay,the voice soothed.You’ll be okay now.
