Page 47 of B-ry
Which only proved to myself that I wasn’t good enough for him. If I couldn’t see that everything he had done had been because he really cared about me then I clearly didn’t deserve him.
I opened my clutch and fingered the edge of the note I had written weeks ago. I kept it with me because I thought that one day I might have the courage to tell him everything that I felt. I had hoped the constant reminder would eventually give me the little push that I needed.
The more I sat there and thought about it, the more I realized that we were both a mess. It would have never worked out anyway if we both kept hiding our true feelings like we had been. Still, it hurt to know that he had turned his back on me.
Bryan was that one person that I had come to really count on to be there for me. I supposed that was a crappy thing to say considering my sister and Chris were always calling and checking in on me, in a way.
But there was something about my time with Bryan that felt different. He never looked at me like he expected me to break at any moment. And maybe Chris didn’t do that so much, but there was still a certain air I felt I had to put on when I hung out with him. Maybe that was all my fault too. It could have been that I had been the one to put that idea there. That I had to still seem like I had it all together. That, though life had thrown me a curve ball, I was still walking tall and proud.
Not only hadn’t I given Bryan and me a chance, I hadn’t given anybody one. Maybe I didn’t deserve any of them. Not their friendships. Their kindness. Their concern. Or even, their love.
I walked out to the street. Chris and Cami probably already thought I had stumbled into my Uber and was on my way home. I didn’t bother stopping by the bar to let him know that I hadn’t, in fact, had a ride.
What little pride I had left took over and I told myself that I could walk home. I mean, I lived in the crappy part of town, I had dealt with the thugs and criminals and prostitutes on a daily basis. I was practically one of them. A walk back to the crappy box I called home was nothing.
I hadn’t even made it halfway there before an older model car pulled over, blocking my path. The door shoved open with a force that had my drunken self stumbling back. I turned and tried to run, losing a shoe in the process because the ground was so soft my heels dug in.
Then there was a man I didn’t know, taking me down to the ground. My clutch went flying and it was too dark for me to see where it landed. I couldn’t fight, and even if I somehow had control over my body, I knew any move I would have made would have been futile.
A hand covered my mouth. There was something there that didn’t feel like flesh. I couldn’t breathe and the more air I tried to suck in, the dizzier I felt. Then everything went dark as my body grew cold. I didn’t know how to fight it, so I didn’t even try.
