Chapter 24 Dillan #2
“Dillan, what’s wrong?” Lilah waddles her way into the chair next to mine and takes my hand in hers, which only makes the stupid tears sting the backs of my lids as I try to force them to stay put but lose the battle.
Can I do this?
I look from my mother to my sister, choking on my insecurities and decide to just fuck it. They’re my family. They have to love me. Right?
“Tink, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“How proud I am of you and every single thing you’ve accomplished?
The way you’ve handled yourself in this insane fishbowl you live in?
You always made it look so easy, like you were checking things off a list. Beauty.
Brains. Talent. Confidence. The love of a million fans.
The accolades and awards. You have it all .
. .” I swallow down the emotions threatening to drown me. “Even the perfect husband.”
Now that I’ve started, I don’t think I can stop. It’s like I’m speeding downhill and the brakes aren’t working, and everything comes rushing to the surface.
Years of trauma.
“It’s a lot to live up to.”
“Dillan,” Mom whispers, horrified, as Lilah looks at me in confusion. “You never needed to live up to anything or anyone.”
“In theory, maybe not. But honestly, Mom, how could I not feel like I did? You and Dad never made me feel that way—”
Lilah sucks in a breath. “But I did?”
“Never,” I answer her truthfully. “This was a me problem. I saw you and Noah living your dream, and Mom, you and Dad aren’t exactly slackers.
My God. Even Asher has known what he wants to do for-freaking-ever.
And then there was me. I had no idea what I wanted to do.
What I would ever be good at. Everyone always compared me to Lilah, and they always found me lacking. ”
“Who found you lacking?” Lilah asks as she wipes her own tears. “You’re perfect exactly how you are.”
“The world did, Tink. Trolls on social media. Classmates. Boys. They were cruel, and I let them get to me. I gave them permission. The therapist I saw in high school helped me work through that. Taught me to compartmentalize it. But it always messed with me when I let my guard down,” I admit, hesitantly.
“And it’s not the easiest thing in the world to keep your guard up for as long as I have. ”
“Oh, sweetheart, why didn’t you ever say anything?” Mom asks, brushing my hair back over my shoulders, her eyes welling with matching tears.
“I tried to once. But . . .” I struggle to find the right words. “You all thought I was flaking out again, so I stopped.”
“What?” Mom asks through her tears.
Guess we’re all a mess.
“I lied to you,” I tell the two of them. “I said I didn’t like working for Lilah because the hours were rough and we were better off not working together.”
My sister leans back in her chair, a look of horror on her face. “I swear to God, if you tell me someone hurt you, I will kill them and blame the hormones. No jury in the world will convict me.”
“No one but me. Your world wasn’t a safe place for me.
So I removed myself from that space. I recognized the trigger and eliminated it.
” I think back to those dark days. “There were constant comments on social media tearing me down. I was too thin. Too fat. Too blonde. Too stupid. The comments were endless. Every time they caught me in a picture with you, there were these horrible comparisons, and they broke me down, day by day, bit by bit, until I started to believe them.”
“I never knew,” Lilah sobs quietly.
“Because I never told you. Lilah, you haven’t looked at social media in a decade. Another thing you’ve proven you’re better at. You don’t care what they say about you. I haven’t mastered that yet. But I’m working on it.”
“But I would have cared what they said about you,” Lilah insists as I reach for Mom’s hand.
“I know,” I tell my sister, then focus on Mom. “Like I said, being in that world was triggering, so I removed myself from it. You guys thought I was flaking out, but I was actually protecting myself.”
“By yourself,” Mom says solemnly, and I know I just ripped her heart out of her chest. Nattie Ryan loves with her whole soul. “Dillan, I would have never—”
“I know,” I reassure her. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it back then.
It took me nearly a year of serious therapy .
. .”—I think back to those days and then that one voice—aside from my therapists—that I heard and hold my head a little higher—“and maybe a really great friend and a really amazing conversation to basically find myself again.”
“What do you mean?” Lilah asks as she wipes her cheeks.
“There’s something else I need to tell you . . .” I look between the two of them and search for the words I know are hiding behind the fear before focusing on my sister. “You know the book we’re reading in book club?”
“What?” Mom asks, confused.
“A Crown of Stars And Ruin?” Lilah asks, and Mom watches as I nod, my stomach roiling, threatening to bring up my ice cream.
“I wrote it.”