14. Indie
INDIE
JULY
I’ve always prided myself on my independence.
The ability to pick up and leave whenever I needed. Never beholden to any person, never relying on any person.
And then two years ago, a man named Teddy walked into my life, and bit by bit, he chipped away at that independence.
Maybe the worst part is that he made me believe he deserved my trust. I usually listen to my instincts—and at first, with Teddy, those instincts, along with the fact that he was Ellie’s grandson, had me convinced I could finally let my guard down.
I thought he’d keep my heart safe, that I’d be secure with him, so I could relinquish some control, and that was a rare feeling for me.
When I was raw and exposed, he allowed his mother to take a wrecking ball to me over and over again. Because she was going to be the only woman in her son’s life. She didn’t want to share him.
Teddy allowed it to happen, and then today he finished the job.
“And it’s easy to say, but you don’t exactly have a family to test that theory!”
Those words completely flattened me. I am nothing but rubble.
The day started badly and ended terribly.
It’s Dawn’s birthday, which apparently requires a week of celebration. She asked Teddy to stay over to help set up the party tomorrow. Since I’ve already vacated my apartment for the move and have been staying with Teddy in his condo, I decided to stay with him here too.
I wanted to keep an eye on Teddy because it seems that every time he’s alone with his mother, he comes back worse for it.
I don’t know why I was still holding on.
Maybe I hoped that he would change his mind, that he would want to come to Europe, that he would want to come to Cape May.
That something would solidify in his mind, and he would finally choose me.
Today, Dawn said she wanted to go to this theme park outside of Chicago that Teddy loved as a kid. Lily was joining, the aunts and uncles and cousins were going. I was supposed to go too, but then I got the call about Andrea and fell apart.
"You're around death every day, Indie. Why is this affecting you so much?"
Teddy still went with his family, and it felt like he finally drew the line in the sand.
I’ll never measure up to his mother, and that’s fine because I don’t need to measure up to her. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. And I sure as fuck don’t need to stay here and take this treatment over and over and over again.
Especially now, because in the end, it was for nothing.
Teddy’s not coming with me to Cape May.
He made that decision.
And you know what? I’ve made some decisions too.
All I’ve been doing for the past two hours is think while I watch him sleep, still in his arms where he hasn’t let me go since he spat those words at me and instantly regretted them.
He held me close, murmuring apologies for hours, begging me to forgive him, swearing he had no idea where those words even came from because he didn’t think that about me.
I do.
His mother.
I think that might be what hurts the most. How easily his mother’s poison could drip from his mouth. How her cruelty could drip through to him, and how my love wasn’t enough to fight for. I felt a brief hope last month, after the gluten incident, that Teddy was waking up and changing.
He was absolutely incredible, the perfect partner for the weeks I recovered. Anytime his mother called, he ignored it. Or when he did pick it up, he would ask her if she was ready to apologize to me, and when I heard her shrill voice down the line, he just hung up on her.
Then, a week ago, he came here because his mother said she wanted to apologize, and when he came back to the condo, he was different.
Distant and distracted. Every time I asked him what was wrong, he shook his head and said everything was fine.
I should have pushed, but I think I knew I lost him then.
It hurts. It fucking burns. It feels like someone is slicing open my chest. I love Teddy. I think I always will. I think he’s buried himself in my heart so deeply that there will always be a Teddy-shaped hole there.
But so fucking what?
Love isn’t enough to sustain this.
I’ve worked too hard, I’ve sacrificed too much, to let one person ruin me.
Slipping from his arms, I cross to my backpack and shoes, sliding my feet into my sneakers.
I pull my Northwestern hoodie over my head, checking to make sure I have all of my things.
Then I allow myself one last look at a sleeping Teddy, his big body almost comical in the queen-sized bed and affection punches me right in the throat.
Pathetically, I almost stop right there, especially seeing his face twisted in discomfort in his sleep, his arms stretched out like he’s reaching for me.
I walk out of the bedroom.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, I just make it to the front door and click the deadbolt open when I hear her voice behind me.
“You were never good for him. I’m just glad you finally see that now.”
My back tenses, and I turn, seeing Dawn standing in the doorway of the dining room in her robe, her chin tilted, her face victorious. It is infuriating that even now, all she cares about is winning some imaginary competition against me.
I sigh. “Dawn…”
“Yes, Cindy?”
I can’t help it—I snort.
Even now, even in her victory, she still can’t resist a cheap shot. My reaction clearly isn’t the one she wants, because her smile slips a fraction.
I look at this woman, whose life is measured in things, in fancy plates and dresses and a perfect appearance. She lives off compliments from her friends and sisters, as if that is the only thing that nourishes her.
Married to a man who doesn’t love her, barely even tolerates her. Two amazing daughters who moved as far away from her as possible.
A son she uses for all her emotional needs.
I look around at this house, with its expensive and lifeless decorations, perfect family pictures lining the walls, not a molecule of dust or chipped paint in sight, and I realize how fucking empty her life is.
How empty she is.
How this is all just a veneer, because from the outside looking in, you wouldn’t see the truth—that Dawn Williams is a shell who shrank herself down to nothing and called it victory. She has nothing but this, and she’ll only ever have this.
“I feel sorry for you,” I tell her, my voice dripping with pity.
The smile drops from Dawn’s face in an instant.
I don’t need to hear another word. I don’t need anything from her or this family ever again.
Turning, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and walk out of the house without another word. I toss my bag into the passenger seat of my car, my eyes finding the window of Teddy’s bedroom, knowing he’s still sound asleep.
I briefly wonder when he’ll find out that I’m gone, and then I realize I don’t care.
Starting my car, I try to think of where to go first. The condo, I guess, to grab my suitcases. The rest of my things are already en route to New Jersey, where they’ll stay in storage until I’m back from Europe.
Ellie’s things are in there for the house, and I’m keeping them. She gave them to me for Cape May. That was the deal.
Where the hell am I going to stay until my flight to London? A hotel, I guess. Or maybe I can move my ticket up and fly out sooner, but then what do I do about the hotels? They’re already booked and nonrefundable.
The questions make my head spin, so I force myself to focus on one thing at a time.
Get my suitcases from Teddy’s condo, untangle myself from him for good, and then go from there. I have plenty of money in my bank account, and the whole world is at my fingertips. I’m not beholden to anyone anymore.
It’s terrifying.
And freeing.
As I pull onto the road, my hand turns up the volume on the radio, and my body goes still at the song playing.
Dancing Queen by ABBA.
A wide smile spreads across my face even as tears sting my eyes.
“Alright, Ellie…” I murmur.
As I pull onto the main highway, I find myself singing along loudly, obnoxiously, and full of growing joy. I scream the lyrics at the top of my lungs.
The farther I get from the Williams house, the lighter I feel. The easier I can breathe, and it feels like Ellie is sitting next to me in the passenger seat, singing along with me.
It’s a sign. I choose to believe that.
Ellie’s telling me I’ll be okay.
My heart cracks the farther I get from Teddy, but I’m a fucking doctor.
Healing is what I’m good at.
And Europe seems like a good place to do it.