Page 90 of Tell Me Everything
“I'd like to go home. I need to think.”
The restlessness I'd felt the last few hours continued to take its toll. I needed to distance myself from Alex—I needed to put my thoughts in order. This evening had been so exhausting, I didn't know where to start. All traces of the alcohol clouding my mind had dissipated, giving way to a heart-breaking emptiness.
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” Alex sighed as he pulled up in front of my house. “You must have been scared.”
I'd been absolutely terrified when Alex had pounced on Vincent. But my fear had soon been replaced by something else: envy. Tonight, Alex had finally faced his ghost. Even though he'd been overwhelmed by anger and sadness, he'd managed to snap out of it. He had stood up to the person who had destroyed him just a few years earlier. Alex had won. It was time for me to face my own demon and stand up to him, too. But how?
“Elena, say something.”
My heart sank. What was I supposed to do? Now that Alex had faced his past, I could no longer be the shackle that kept him from moving forward. I had to make a choice. Either I chose to move forward and be with Alex or I could stay in a life where I would never feel safe. Which meant giving up on Alex and our future together. Either way, I had to face this internal war, even if I knew I wouldn't win. Unless luck was on my side.
“Why do you look so sad?”
“I love you, Alex.”
“This sounds like a goodbye.”
Instead of answering, I pressed my lips to his. As always, his mouth was soft and warm. If I could, I'd never stop kissing him.
“Don't go,” he pleaded.
I inhaled his scent one last time before getting out of the car.
“See you later.”
I entered the house. Without bothering to take off my shoes, I dropped onto my bed. Overcome by the silence of the night, new tears burned my eyes. I put onTo My Youthby BOL4 and cried my eyes out. What was I supposed to do? Despite having prepared myself mentally, I had arrived at one of the biggest turning points in my life, and I was scared. My phone screen lit up, displaying Alex's number.
“I'm sorry, Alex,” I murmured.
Feeling that the restlessness inside me increased, I stood up. I knew what I had to do if I still wanted to be able to watch myself in the mirror later.
For the first time in three years, I entered my brother's room. On his bedside table stood a picture of us as children. My father was carrying me on his shoulders, while my mother and Mick were holding hands. Those moments where my family had been happy seemed so distant, as if they were a dream instead of a reality. My tears welled up. I missed him.
“Wish me luck.”
I took a sweater from his wardrobe and slipped it on. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath. This night had taught me one thing: fate was fickle, but some things were inevitable. There was no way I was going to let my life depend on others. It was time to get rid of my handcuffs, like Alex had. I deserved better. My determination was ironclad. I plugged in the stereo and turned up Metallica'sFade to Black. Mick's favourite band, and right now, I needed all the support I could get. My thoughts turned to Alex.Please wait for me. I’m coming.I waited, listening. There was noise on the stairs, footsteps coming closer.This is it.Frank appeared in the doorway; my mother hot on his heels. Mom stared at me. She knew as well as I did what was about to happen.
“What's this?” my father asked, a nasty sneer on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The room, the music, the sweater... My father was unsettled when he saw all these links to his dead child. There was only one intruder amid all these memories: me. Mick was gone; I was still here. Frank came towards me. Mom rushed to stop him. It was too late, and I had no intention of stopping it.
“Frank, stop! This is a misunderstanding, right, Lena?”
Her eyes shot me a desperate look. I knew what I was doing, or at least I hoped I did. I knew the risks. It wouldn't be the first time.
“Take off that sweater immediately.”
His tone was chilling. I swallowed.
“No.”
“Take it off, or...”
“Or what? I'm not afraid of you anymore.”
I wasn’t afraid—I was terrified. But my determination was bigger. Or was it recklessness? Frank seemed taken aback by my attitude. For years, I'd kept my head down and taken the blows without flinching. This time, I would hold my head high. Tonight would be the last time. He headed for me, and Mom was stupid enough to try and stop him. We all know what happens next: a man hits his wife to get what he wants. Mom rolled to the floor, a trickle of blood running down her nose. Even though I felt guilty, I had to go on. I had to get us out. For her sake and for mine.
“Asshole!” I shouted. “This is between you and me.”
