I’m not good enough for the likes of Andrew D. Callahan.
“I—I need to take a shower.” I suddenly do. The idea of scalding hot water washing away all of my tumultuous emotions has massive appeal and I need to get out of here.
“All right.” He clears his throat, and I wonder if he realizes how uncomfortable I am. He must. “Will you…will you come back to bed with me when you’re done?”
It took everything out of him to say that, I could tell, just by the tone of his voice. “Sure,” I lie, feeling terrible. I am the worst sort of person, lying to him. I hate liars. But I should hate me because I’m only lying to myself, thinking Drew can somehow, some way, feel something for me.
I escape his room and hide away in the bathroom, taking the hottest shower I can stand. I scrub at my skin until its red and raw, the steam billowing within the small room and the hot air making me dizzy. Tears are streaming down my face as I cry ugly, soundless sobs that wrack my body. I don’t understand why I’m so sad or why I need to get away from Drew. I don’t regret what I did for him, how I touched him and brought him relief. Release. If my touching him helped him erase even a little bit of what haunts him, I’m happy I could do that. It’s the least he deserves.
But my reaction to all of this is off the charts ridiculous. I’m falling apart. I don’t want to become dependent on Drew, yet it’s too late. I am. Slowly but surely I am and if I don’t stop it soon, my heart will become so entwined with his, I know I will literally bleed if we’re ever separated.
A shuddering breath escapes me as I step out of the shower and hurriedly dry myself off. I sneak back into my bedroom and slip on an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then dive beneath my cold as ice sheets and pull the covers over me, my still hot body shivering from the difference in temperature compared to the chilled in the room.
I’m totally exhausted and emotionally drained, but I don’t sleep well for the rest of the night, tossing and turning, thinking of Drew all alone in the next room. I abandoned him. I let him down.
I’m no better than my mother.
With that realization, I cry.
~* Chapter Eleven *~
Day 5 (Thanksgiving), 12:55 p.m.
The more I push you away, the more I want you to push back. – Drew Callahan
Fable
“Mom’s not making Thanksgiving dinner?” I ask incredulously, fighting the urge to rush outside and inhale a cigarette. My nerves are frazzled and my hands are literally shaking, but I only have two cigs left in my secret pack. The one that was full when I arrived here. I need to save them.
“Nope. She told me there was a frozen turkey dinner in the freezer from Marie Callender’s if I wanted that. Otherwise, I’m on my own.” Owen sounds disgusted and I don’t blame him. “I guess she went out of town with Larry. He has a daughter or something and they were going to have turkey dinner there.”
Unbelievable, that Mom wouldn’t bother taking Owen with her. He’s her son. Guilt eats at me for not being with Owen, but what else is new? I’m starting to think all the money in the world isn’t worth this turmoil. My heart is in tatters, my brain is sluggish and my brother has been virtually abandoned on a holiday that our mother usually loves and goes overboard in celebrating.
Even though it’s only been the three of us for so long, since my grandparents died within months of each other when I was eleven, my mom always makes a huge Thanksgiving dinner and invites everyone she can think of. Sometimes she’ll have her current boyfriend in attendance. Other times, friends from the bar where she likes to hang out, the lonely stragglers who have no family to spend the day with.
My mom may have her faults—and she has a shit ton of them—but she always brings in the strays for the holidays. Doesn’t like to see someone hurt and lonely.
Frowning, I shake my head. Yet she’ll abandon her son. Never contact her daughter. Sometimes I think she cares more about the people she drinks with than the people she created.
“I wish I was there.” I lower my voice since I’m in the main house and who knew if there are spies lurking about. I wouldn’t doubt it if there are. “You shouldn’t have to spend the holiday alone.”
“I’ll be all right.” His false bravado kills me. Owen tries to act so tough all the time. I wonder if it’s as exhausting for him as it is for me. “Wade’s mom invited me over. I think I’ll go to their house in an hour or so. Wade said they like to eat around three. Supposedly his mom makes a fucking awesome pumpkin pie.”
“Don’t curse.” My heart lightens and I plan on sending a thank you card, gift, whatever I can muster to Wade’s mom when I get back home. “I’m so glad you have somewhere to go.”