Chapter 159
Tilda
The screen door slams shut behind me as I carry my coffee to my chair.
I want to ignore it. The screen door.
The way it reminds me of Ethan.
I want to rip the screen out.
Want to turn it back to the way it was before.
But I don’t.
If he can use me, I can use him.
I can keep the things he did for me.
I…
A tear slips free.
“I hate this,” I whisper to the trees.
There’s a rustle, then Quackers flaps up from below the deck and perches herself on the railing.
The edge of my mouth pulls up into a sad smile. “Morning.”
She does her little shoulder shimmy.
“You know what I hate most of all?” I ask my best friend. “I hate feeling stupid. It’s… it’s such a bad feeling. The worst.”
Quackers hops down from the railing onto the deck.
“You get it. Don’t you?”
She waddles over to me, stopping at my feet.
I hold my mug out of the way and pat my lap. “If you want—”
There’s a flapping of wings, and I close my eyes on instinct. Then I feel a gentle weight resting on my thigh.
I slide my eyes open.
And I find Quackers sitting on my lap.
I sniff.
Then I sniff again as more tears fall.
“You’re such a good duck.” I move my hand so very slowly before stroking it down her back.
Quackers makes a soft sound and stretches her head out.
“Does that mean you like this?” I do it again.
This time she scrunches her neck up so her chin… beak… is resting on her chest.
I keep petting her, keep soaking in the comfort she’s giving me.
And then I tell her the truth of it all.
“I don’t want to love him.”