Chapter 31
Drew
I
feel a sense of relief knowing Emmett is just out in my living room. I know we have some unfinished business between as right now, but it means a lot that he was willing to stay with me after everything that just happened.
He said he had to run down to his place to grab his phone and take care of some things, explaining that he dropped everything and ran up here when he heard the yelling between Reed and me.
By the time I undressed and turned on the water, I heard my door open and close just loud enough to announce he was back without saying he was here.
In the shower, I wash my skin, scrubbing until it’s raw. Scrubbing away Reed, wanting any and all remnants of him to circle down the drain.
The Reed I knew, the Reed I thought I knew, gone.
Left in his place is the Reed he truly was all along. The one that Lacey, and even Emmett, could see, but I was too na?ve to accept.
My brain floods with memories from the past few years, and I’m struck with the realization that, over time, I became more and more wrapped around Reed’s finger, allowing him to take what he wanted, receiving nothing in return yet always asking him to come back.
Damn.
Reed was right; I am stupid, but not for the reasons he thinks, but for letting myself get strung along for so many years.
How could I have been so stupid?
How long has he been this person I didn’t even recognize? Playing with the part of me that felt guilty for ending things between us all those years ago, tricking me into thinking I owed him, taking advantage of the love I had for him those years ago.
I begin to find other times lost in my memories where he forced himself on me, subtly enough to see it as lust at the time but enough for me to now understand as I recall the events that just unfolded. I feel myself get even more pissed the more I think about the nights where I wanted companionship or someone to talk to but ended up taking off my clothes and telling myself that this is what I wanted. The mornings where I convinced myself that I was content, no longer lonely or empty, even if I still had the feeling that there was something more I needed to feel complete or satisfied.
The tears that stream down my face blend in with the drops of water falling from above, and I let them, feeling like I was not only washing away the lingering feeling Reed left on my skin but releasing the Reed I tried so hard to hold on to, unwrapping myself from around his finger.
I’ve always been one to hold in my anger. I tend to avoid conflict until everything inside of my boils over into literal form, tears streaming out of my eyes, out of my control.
I turn off the water, immediately freezing without the warmth of the water around me, and quickly grab my towel to dry off.
I slip on an oversized A Day to Remember t-shirt with the Homesick album cover and a pair of black leggings. I brush through my wet hair before clipping it back and look at myself in the mirror.
I think to myself, how did I get here?
Because, the person staring back at me looks tired and worn out. The person before me looks like she’s been through hell, yet she is still alive. The person in my reflection has the slightest hint of the person who looked in this same mirror the day her life changed forever.
That day, I was proud of myself because I was happy and exactly where I wanted to be. And that is the person I want staring back at me. Not this fragile, sad girl who let one guy determine her self-worth her the past seven years and another kick her out of his apartment.
Knowing that light within me was trying like hell to stay lit tonight, I took a deep inhale and closed my eyes. I let my lungs fill with air, telling myself that I need to set that small little flame ablaze.
Even if it means being alone.
Emmett is sitting on the couch and turns to greet me as he hears the bathroom door behind him open, and I know what I have to do.
“Hey,” he says to me, a plastic bag on his lap with a logo I’d recognize anywhere. I walk over and take a seat next to him. My eyes sting from how hard I was crying, sure that they’re red-ringed and puffy, but trying to ignore it.
“What do you have there?” I ask, gesturing to the bag, delaying the inevitable.
“I bought you something.”
I’m caught off guard. “What?”
He hands me the bag, and I pull out the two books that complete the series I’ve been eager but too distracted to finish. The books I’ve had pictures of on my phone for weeks. The books I’ve been meaning to order but haven’t yet.
The matching black covers with dark floral patterns lining the outside cause water to well up in my eyes against my will, making them sting even more. This is a gesture so thoughtful and so kind.
I’m beginning to doubt myself. I feel like I’m high up in the clouds, never wanting to come down, and I want to let myself feel like this.
I look at Emmett, a reassuring smile on my face to tell him I’m happy, not sad, even if my tears deceive me.
“I wasn’t sure if you ever got to order them, and I wanted to do something that would make you smile because, well…” he pauses, knowing what he wants to say next but unsure if he should. “I love seeing you smile.”
I set the books down on the coffee table, and grab one of his hands with the both of mine. My eyes want to find his, but my vision is blurry from the tears I don’t want to let fall.
“I don’t know how to thank you for this, and for being there for me these past few weeks, but—”
“You don’t have to thank me, Drew.” He brings his other hand to place on top of mine. “Especially not after the last time I saw you. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave.”
I look down, the gravity making the tears escape and stream down my cheek. I take my hands back and interlace my fingers, resting my hands on my lap.
I need to create distance between us.
“Look, I really appreciate what you did tonight. Coming up here to help,” I pause, trying to formulate the words to end something that never even officially started. “But, I need some space.” His face twists, and I know that’s not what he was expecting me to say. Before he can ask for clarification, I continue, “You can’t keep barging in here to save me. I know I’m your loud and inconsiderate upstairs neighbor, but—“
“Neighbor?” He throw back at me. “Drew, you’re not just a neighbor.”
“Yes. That’s all I am to you, and you were very clear about that last time we saw each other.” I stand up needing to create even more distance. “And, this,” I gesture between him and I. “This isn’t what normal neighbors do, so you should probably just go.” I turn to head to my bedroom, knowing that if I turn back, I’ll take back everything I just said. I stop in the door way, hoping he doesn’t make this harder and just walks the other direction and back downstairs.
But I her subtle creaks in my floor, footsteps approaching me, and I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me to turn around.
“You are not just a neighbor,” he says carefully.
I turn, pulling my eyes up to find his. “Then who was she?”