Chapter Sixteen
Basil
Challenge: Have a deep, authentic conversation with a total stranger you’d be dtf friend
Chelsea emerged from her bedroom, and I knew something was terribly wrong by the way Elizabeth hovered, watching her friend like a hawk. I started forward when I saw the tears staining Chelsea’s cheeks, her red nose, the look of wide-eyed panic. Elizabeth shot a glance my way with a subtle shake of her head, like I was expected to act like everything was cool.
Chelsea stared blankly around and started to gather the wineglasses from the table and carry them to the kitchen.
I was completely lost as to what was going on. “Are you okay? Did something happen to your mom?”
She faced the cabinets, both hands on the counter, like she was on the verge of crying again. “My dad is home.”
“What?” The same guy who’d ripped a necklace off her mom? When she’d told me that story, I wanted to find the man and kill him. I pictured a scared girl trying to learn karate from the internet to protect herself. I remembered how she’d pulled her arms in front of her when I’d lost my temper, how she’d flinched when Evan kicked the coffee table, and I couldn’t begin to imagine the depths of her sorrow.
When she turned around, she looked so lost. “My mom let him come back.”
I wanted nothing more than to comfort her, so I stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush a tear-damp strand of hair off her cheek. She jerked away from me, like she couldn’t even trust me anymore. I drew back. “Shit, I’m sorry, Chelsea.”
“No, I am.” She stared at her feet. “I’m a complete disaster of a human being.”
“You’re not a disaster.” I wanted to wrap her in a hug, but she clearly needed space. “You’ve survived a horrific situation, and you’re still kind and funny and loving.”
“You don’t even know me, Bas.” She sniffled. “I’ve only shown you what I wanted you to see.”
“We all put forward a public image, but I think you’ve let me see past that. I think I’m getting know you.”
“You don’t understand.” She shook her head, finally looking up at me. “I haven’t been real with you. I’ve been pretending to be someone I’m not, testing out a version of myself who could handle a romantic relationship. But I failed the test. And I think the experiment has come to an end.”
“What do you mean?” I took in her defeated body language and realized she was trying to push me away. “Are you giving up?”
“I warned you on day one that I’m incapable of a real relationship.” She gestured at herself. “This is why.”
“You also told me you aren’t worthy of love and can’t trust anyone who wants to be with you.” I leaned in to drive home the point. “You are, and you can.”
“Maybe one day, but not right now.” Her tears started to fall again. “I’m sorry, Bas. I never meant to hurt you.”
The room spun, and spots appeared in the corners of my eyes. “But everything has been so good between us.”
She shook her head. “This whole thing between you and me? It’s been make-believe. Playing house.”
That was bullshit. I raked a hand through my hair. I’d been there when she’d capitulated every step of the way. The only pretense were these walls she built. “It’s as real as you want it to be, Chelsea.”
She swallowed, like she was gathering courage to say something I wouldn’t want to hear. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my drama. I really am sorry.”
I stepped in and grasped her wrist as I’d done so many times before, barking, “What are you so afraid of?”
She stared down at my hand in wide-eyed horror, and I suddenly saw the scene from her point of view. The white marks where my fingers pressed into her skin, how my angry tone had transformed my desperation into sheer menace. I let go and raked a hand through my hair. “Oh my God. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Fuck. Who ever means to?
I needed to remove myself from this situation before I made everything worse for her. I grabbed my coat and bolted from the kitchen, turning back once to see the stricken look on her face. “I’m so sorry, Chelsea.”
The door rang out a finality when it slammed, and I ran all the way home, leaving my car behind, buried under a layer of snow.