Chapter 38
Griffin
“Fuck!”
I slam my fist into the back alley dumpster right as the door slams shut behind Eleanor. I regret it instantly, because I’m pretty sure that I now have some broken fingers to go with a broken heart.
How many times can a Goddamn heart break?
“Fuck,” I swear again under my breath, running my fingers through my hair wildly. What the fuck just happened? How did we go from laughing in the rose gardens to screaming at each other in a parking lot?
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I head back inside to find Jack and David. When I wrench the door open we nearly collide–they must have been coming to look for me. I shake my head at them, then close out at the bar and storm out, blood still roaring in my ears.
“Griffin, wait up,” Jack yells, jogging to catch up to me. “Let’s go back to your place and talk this out.”
“Can’t,” I say bitterly. “Told Madison I’d be over at hers by midnight.”
“No offense dude, but do you really think you should be going to your girlfriend’s house after a public fight with your ex?” David asks breathlessly, coming to a halt next to Jack.
“No offense dude, but it’s none of your damn business.”
“Cut the shit, Griffin.” Jack’s teeth are gritted, words sharp enough to cut glass. “It is our damn business, and you need to cool off before you go anywhere. Let’s just go to the house, and you can rage at us all you want.”
“He’s right.” David’s voice has gone soft and reassuring, and all it does is piss me off more. “We all know that things are over with Madison, and probably have been since Ellie came back. But she deserves better than whatever you’re going to say in this state.”
Well fuck. He is right. I think I’ve always been one foot out the door with Madison–no matter how hard I tried. “I feel like a jackass,” I spit out harshly. “I wasted a year of her life, just like I’ve wasted nearly fifteen years of mine.”
“Nothing about your time with Ellie was a waste,” Jack says, voice rising. “I get that you’re pissed, but I’m not going to let you talk about her like that. Ellie is the best thing that’s happened to any of us, don’t you minimize that.”
Glaring at him, I wrench the truck door open, turning the key and barely giving them time to get in before peeling out of the gravel lot.
I slam every door from the car to the basement, Jack and David following behind in grim silence.
Madison: Are you on your way?
Shit. I forgot to text her. Not only was I a complete dick at the bonfire, but now I’m standing her up.
Griffin: Sorry, not gonna make it. Gonna hang with the guys at my house.
Gonna hang out with the guys and brainstorm how to end things with you without being the world’s biggest asshole.
Madison: Ok. We should talk tomorrow though.
Griffin: Yeah I know. I’ll call you in the morning.
Throwing my phone into the chair with way too much force, I sink onto the floor and drop my head into my hands.
Five years. I’ve spent five years getting my shit together, putting myself back together piece by piece until I finally felt like a functional human being again.
All it took was two weeks for all that work to go up in flames.
I’m twenty eight years old and already feel like I’ve got nothing left to give.
I gave everything, heart, body and soul, to a girl who didn’t want it and still managed to walk away with it.
Eleanor Turner is my only chance at happiness, and the singular source of all my agony.
“You gonna tell us what happened now?” David demands, crossing his arms. “Things looked good, and then y’all were just gone.”
“Eleanor did what Eleanor does,” I laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “She builds a bridge then sets it on fire, and leaves me with the ashes.”
“Give us more than that,” Jack urges. Heaving a deep sigh, I stand and pace, forcing myself to share every miserable detail from the bathroom to the fight.
“Jesus, Griffin, that was a bit cruel, don't you think? Throwing it in her face like that?”
“Me? What about her? No one made you wait for me, Griffin.” I say, mimicking the words that felt like a dagger in my chest. “That’s fucking cruel. As if I had a choice? Does she think I wanted to spend the last five years pining after her?”
“I think you both said some things you didn’t really mean.”
“Oh I meant every word of it,” I snap. “Stop being diplomatic for once in your life, Jack.”
“I will not,” he snaps back. “I don’t think you’ve ever said a mean word to her, and you’re going to regret it like hell once the alcohol and temper have worn off.” That sobers me up real quick.
Little does he know the regret is already climbing up my insides like a demon from hell.
“Even if I do, she sure as hell won’t,” I say, sliding back down to the ground.
“You didn’t see her face. Everything she said came straight from the heart.
” Heaving a sigh, I continue, “Why is she even mad? She doesn’t want me.
She should have just brought whatever guy she’s dating back in Boston with her. ”
And I should never have asked her to dance.
“What do you mean? Is she dating someone?” David looks accusingly at Jack. Jack shakes his head no.
David continues on slowly, clearly scared of setting me off again. “That’s what I thought. I didn’t think she was seeing anybody. And from what I’ve heard, life hasn’t exactly been sunshine and daisies for her.”
“What do you mean?”
“The past five years didn’t just happen to you, Griffin,” Jack says. “She’s been through a lot. I think we saw glimpses of it in high school, but she’s been battling her own brain for a long time. She never wanted to run, but she didn’t know how to stay.”
“She told you that?”
“In her own way. I guarantee she carries a lot of regret and shame around, and she does it on her own.” His face darkens, and it once again catches me off guard that I’m not the only one who’s spent years caring for Eleanor.
“I watched for years while she shut herself away. Depression is a different kind of beast. Abby and I have given her space where she needed it, and support when she finally started asking for it. She’s starting to come back to herself, with a little help and a lot of grace. ”
“Why haven’t you told me any of this?”
“You needed to come back to yourself too, man,” David interjects, sitting next to me and gripping my shoulder. “You got the Big Sad. You wanted to help her so bad that you neglected yourself. That didn’t do either of you one bit of good.”
“When did you get so touchy-feely?” I say with a watery laugh. “Those are some big therapy words you got going there.”
“Bro, I have three sisters studying psychology,” he says. “You think I haven’t absorbed some emotional intelligence through osmosis?”
Jack takes a seat on my other side and pats me on the leg. “It’s okay to have big feelings, Griff.”
“Alright, pack it up, Mr. Rogers,” I mutter, knocking his foot with mine. “That’s enough psychoanalysis for one night.”
Groaning, I pull my knees up and rest my forearms on them. “What do I do about Eleanor now?”
“With peace and love dude,” David says, getting to his feet and offering his hand.
The phrase catapults me back to high school.
I can picture it crystal clear–Abby attempting to soften the blow of whatever harsh words are about to leave her mouth.
“You have some more pressing matters at the moment.”
“Like what?” I ask, frowning.
“Like breaking up with your girlfriend.”
Fuck me.
“You’re right,” I sigh. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to her in the morning.”
“You know what else you need to do?”
“Damn David, do you just keep a running list of things you think I should be doing?”
“No, but speaking from personal experience,” he says pointedly. “You have got to stop mixing alcohol and Ellie.”