A Broken Soul(75)

       
         
       
        

He looked down at the dark, cracked asphalt of the church parking lot as he rocked back and forth on his heels. I didn't have to see his eyes to know the shutters had dropped back into place. It felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a handful of seconds before he responded, "I don't want to talk about it," he stated with finality. "This …  today, isn't about me, it's about you. Let's not discuss-"

"Don't," I snipped, unable to control my turbulent emotions. "I'm not trying to get you to open up, Quinn. It's like beating my head against a brick wall. I know trying to get you to talk to me is a lost cause, believe me," I added sarcastically, because I was mad. No, that wasn't right, I was pissed. The past few months had been full of darkness, sadness, and heartache. Quinn had given me a few brief glimpses of light during that time, only to snatch them away from me. Yeah, I was pissed, and standing in the middle of a church parking lot, after saying my final good-bye to my father, the best man I'd ever known, I snapped.

"You made it perfectly clear that I'm not enough to help you get past your loss, and I've accepted that. I'm not pushing you right now. Honestly, I've given up. You make trying to help you impossible. But I lost someone I loved with all of my heart today, and I know you've experienced the same thing, and for that I'm sorry. And I'm thankful that you pushed the pain aside long enough to be here for me when I needed someone. So this, right now, it's not me trying to understand what makes you tick. I'm just acknowledging what you've done for me."

"Lilly." When he took a step in my direction, I held my hand up to stop him.

"I'm cold. I should probably go back inside." His mouth opened, but I continued, not letting him get a word in. "And you should probably get back to Pembrooke. You've got your job and Sophia to see to."

I knew he'd argue, and I was proven right when his jaw clenched and he declared, "I'm not leaving you."

Fortunately, I'd reached my limit on pain for the day, so saying what I knew would make him leave couldn't cause me to hurt any more than I already did. "I don't want you here, anymore," I stated flatly. "You've provided what I needed, and it's time for you to go. I want you to go, Quinn."

"You don't mean that."

Why? Why did he have to make this so fucking hard? "I do!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the snow-covered trees. "I do mean it! I want you to go. Thank you for all you've done for me, and I'll never be able to repay you, but it's done. We. Are. Done. In every single way possible. I'm staying with my mom for a few more days, and I don't want you there. Please, Quinn, please. Don't make this any harder than it already is. Just leave." 

"I want to help you." His ravaged voice cut me to the bone.

"Funny," I laughed without an ounce of humor. "That was all I wanted to do for you. Now maybe you'll understand what I felt every time you gave me a piece of you, only to rip it away again."

I hadn't even noticed I'd been crying until just then. I turned and headed back toward the church, but not before issuing my parting shot. "Go home, Quinn. You would have walked away from me eventually. That's all you're capable of. So do us both a favor and walk away now."

I didn't stick around for a reply. Instead, I let the door between us close for good.

It was the only way I'd survive.





Quinn



I RIPPED ANOTHER board up and hurled it across the back yard. The fact that I was sweating my ass off even with the light dusting of snow on the ground was a testament to how hard I was pushing myself. After I'd dropped Sophia off at school that morning, I'd come out on my back deck to have a cup of coffee and try to calm my mind by staring out at the amazing view of the mountains that surrounded me.

That hadn't worked.

Three feet out from my back door I stepped on a spot that was starting to rot through. What had started as a simple task of replacing the rotted board had quickly turned into me taking my aggression out and ripping the entire goddamned deck up.

In the middle of fucking winter.

I'd caught a brief glimpse of my neighbor - an old lady who'd lived in the house next door all her life - and didn't miss the look on her face. She thought I was crazy. And as I ripped another piece of wood up, oblivious to the nails that jabbed into my work gloves, I couldn't help but agree with her. I was so hot from working that I'd discarded my jacket twenty minutes ago, leaving me in just my jeans and a long sleeved thermal.