Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WEAKNESS OR CLARITY?
LOLA
My headache has its own personality when I wake up the next morning. I groan while my eyes are squeezed shut, and when I open them, I hurriedly clamp my hand over my lids.
“What was I thinking?” I moan.
I shuffle to the bathroom and take a pain reliever.
It’s a good thing I’m off today. I never would have had that much to drink otherwise, but this has never been the norm for me, whether I have work the next day or not.
I got drunk once in college and didn’t like how out of control it made me feel, so I made sure to never let that happen again.
I wish I’d remembered that lesson.
The pills are already dissolving in my bloodstream when it hits me. I’m halfway back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling fan as it turns in slow, lazy circles, when I remember Tully’s words. What happened, Lola? Why did you leave me?
My stomach tightens.
Tully said that last night. Didn’t he?
I frown at the ceiling. Wait. Last night?
The room feels soft around the edges, cottony from the pain meds. My head throbs in dull pulses. I squeeze my eyes shut. When would I have talked to Tully? Did I dream that? Did I—
My breath catches.
Oh God.
I grab my phone off the nightstand so fast I almost drop it on the hardwood. My hands are clumsy, but Face ID blinks open when I hold the phone in front of my face. Tully’s name is right there at the top of my messages.
And this is why I never get drunk.
Of course drunk me went looking for him.
My thumb hovers over the thread. Don’t open it. Open it. I tap, and the screen floods with blue and gray bubbles, and for a second, I can’t even process what I’m looking at. There are so many words. So many from me. And him.
He started the conversation.
My eyes want to greedily take in all he said, but I can vaguely remember both giddiness and devastation when I read his texts last night. And then I see how emphatically I said I’d never stop loving him, and my chest caves in on itself.
God, why did I think I could text him back and not spill my entire soul onto the screen?
As if vodka doesn’t pry open every locked door inside me.
And Tully is the one person who still knows exactly where to press—it’s why I blocked him in the first place.
I knew I’d eventually cave if I saw messages like this from him.
I keep scrolling, horrified.
I told him I didn’t leave because I stopped loving him. But then I just sound pathetic and too broken. Which isn’t untrue. But why the hell did I open my mouth?
My pulse pounds in my ears as I read his last text again, asking why I left him, and the phone vibrates in my hand. I drop it onto my chest like it burned me. When I see it’s a new text from him, at first I’m worried that I accidentally sent him something just now while I was panic-scrolling.
But no.
Tully
I’m not letting you off the hook this time, Lola. Please tell me why.
My throat closes.
I’m back in bed, sheets tangled around my legs like they’re trying to hold me here.
The phone screen lights up my face in the dim room, too bright, too early.
I stare at the words until they blur. My thumb hovers over the keyboard.
I type You wouldn’t understand and delete it, then type I’m sorry and delete that too.
The little typing bubble appears, disappears, and appears again. He’s waiting.
Then the screen shifts, and there’s an incoming FaceTime from Tully. Holy shit.
My stomach drops. I look like absolute garbage. My hair is matted to one side, my eyes are swollen from crying half the night, and my skin is splotchy. My mascara has smudged into faint raccoon rings. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.
There’s no universe in which I should answer this call.
But maybe that’s exactly why I should.
Maybe if I let him see me like this, the wreck that I’ve become, he’ll realize he dodged a bullet and that I’m not the girl he keeps remembering. Maybe then he’ll be free to let me go.
I swipe to accept.
The screen fills with his face, and my breath stops.
He looks worse than I do.
One eye is almost swollen shut, the skin around it a deep purple, fading to yellow at the edges. His lip is split, dried blood lining the cut, and his nose is a little more crooked than it was. He’s pale beneath the bruises.
“Tully—” My voice cracks. I sit up so fast the room tilts. “You look awful.”
“Hey,” he says. His voice is rough, like he can’t breathe through his nose.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He shifts the phone. “I didn’t call to talk about my face.”
I swallow hard. Even through the bruises, the gold specks in his brown eyes stand out and draw me in. I’m nervous, but he still manages to make me feel safe, even when I suspect we’re about to say goodbye forever.
“Please,” he says quietly. “Just answer the question. Why, Lola? None of it adds up to me. Help it make sense to me, please.”
I pull my knees to my chest under the covers. My mouth opens, and nothing comes out at first, but he’s not going to let this go, not this time. I have to say something.
“You had this huge future. I thought I was letting you go. Daniel—” I freeze and feel my face heat. “I didn’t want to be a distraction. You carry your emotions out on the ice, and I didn’t want to stand in your way.”
“What were you going to say about Daniel?”
“I…nothing. I was just…I don’t know.”
His brows furrow. “So you walked away because you didn’t want to be a distraction. Instead of talking it through and letting me know your concerns, you just chose for me?”
“I didn’t want to ruin things, Tully.”
He makes a frustrated sound. “That’s not an answer. That’s a deflection. Try again.”
I force myself to meet his eyes on the screen. They’re bloodshot, the good one rimmed red, but still so steady it hurts. I remember those eyes looking at me like I was something worth keeping, back when I still believed I was.
“You had this whole future, and I had…tattoo shop dreams. I thought if I let you go first, it would hurt less. It didn’t. But I was willing to hurt if it meant you thrived.”
His mouth parts, and I wait, thinking he’s going to say something, but he just waits.
“And Nantucket…” My voice cracks again. I hate it. “It was perfect, just like we’ve always been. But I thought we were on the same page with that…”
“You didn’t give me the chance to decide anything,” he says finally. Quiet. “You’ve decided for both of us. Twice now.”
“You’re right.”
“So why text me back last night?” He leans closer to the camera, bruises shifting in the light. “If you’re so sure you ruin everything, why tell me you still love me? Why say you always will?”
My eyes burn. I blink hard. “Because it’s true. And because I was drunk enough to forget I’m supposed to protect you from me.”
He exhales, long and shaky. “I don’t need protecting from you, Lola.
I need you to stop running. I need you to let me choose.
And I need to know what fucking happened.
” His breath hitches. “What happened to that girl who had more confidence in her pinkie than I did in my whole body? And I wasn’t lacking.
” He lets out a laugh that sounds anguished, and tears stream down my face.
“What happened to the girl who knew what she wanted and went after it? That’s why I’m having a hard time reconciling who I thought you were with what you’re saying now, because the Lola I knew never would’ve thought she was unworthy of anyone. ”
I laugh, and it sounds more like a sob. “Life happened, Tully.”
He sits up straighter. “Okay. I can believe that. What did life do to you, Lola? What did it do to us?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together.
“You said you’ll never stop loving me. You said that last night. Did you mean that?” His eyes drill into mine.
My heart is pounding too hard, too fast.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Because I love you too. And I’ll never stop.
I’ve tried.” He smiles sadly and then winces when his lip breaks open and a fresh line of blood forms. “I’m tired of half-answers.
I want the truth, and I want to know what happened to you.
Because whether you and I are together or not, I can’t stand the thought of you feeling unworthy…
of anyone.” His voice cracks. “It’s like your spirit has been crushed, and you’re just accepting it.
” He shakes his head. “When all is said and done, you can walk away from me again, but I need you to tell me where you went. Who knocked you down so far that you believe you don’t deserve my kindness?
I know I said all that about not being your fuckboy anymore, but…
the truth is, no matter what we do to hurt one another, we still deserve each other’s kindness. ”
I’m crying silently, tears sliding hot down my cheeks.
“I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I saw you in Nantucket, I just couldn’t stay away. Even though I knew I should.”
He closes his eyes for a second, like the words physically hurt.
“Then stop,” he says. “Stop hurting me. Stop staying away.”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
He brings the phone closer. “I have a game in New York next weekend. Come to the game. We can talk afterward?”
“I don’t know, Tully. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“We won’t…I’m not up for sex and you disappearing again, as much as I might physically want to. We need to talk and only talk,” he says.
I don’t know what I’m going to tell him, if anything, but I find myself shaking my head.
“Okay,” I finally say.
I regret it almost immediately.
There’s no way I can tell him everything.