“He just left me,” I tell her.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.” I can feel the utter despair in her voice. “He’s stealing from me, and I’m pretty sure he’s using. And he’s hardly home.”
I’m lost for words because this is something I should be dealing with. But when I moved out of their place, they asked for space—Brody specifically asked me to give him some leeway, so I did just that. I like having my own life, a new life that doesn’t involve looking after someone else for a change. The only person I have to look after now is me, and I haven’t done that before—ook after just me.
“I’m sorry.” And I am. I’m sorry she has to deal with this. I’m sorry he is using.
“What do I do?” I can hear her biting her nails through the phone, the sound of someone who is at their wit's end.
“I can’t answer that for you, Merci.”
“Will you hate me if I break his heart? Because after my nana’s passing, I just don’t know how much more I can take.”
“If there is one thing I’ve learned, no one will look out for you better than yourself,” I say.
Yes, I will feel the hurt for Brody, but I will never tell her that. And to be truthfully honest, I don’t know if I want Brody to live with me, especially the way he is. The problem is that he will only have one place to go, and that’s to me.
“You used to look out for him so well,” she states.
“That’s all I knew. To protect him. Maybe I didn’t do a good enough job.” I pull out and drive to the airfield.
“You did, Chanel. Never doubt that. You would have cut off your left arm for him.”
“It just sucks…” I swallow my emotion and don’t continue, but my shaky hands grip the steering wheel tighter, knowing what the outcome of this is going to be.
“I know. Imagine being in love with someone who isn’t right for you.” This time, it’s me who sucks in a deep, stuttering breath. “Gosh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I said those words.”
“It’s okay… it wasn’t love.” I tell myself that, and sometimes I believe it. Sometimes…
“Okay…” she finally replies, her tone not convinced by my words.
“You may want to call him. He was mad that I didn’t have enough money,” I tell her.
“Does he know I know yet?” Merci asks.
“No, but maybe it’s time he does.”
“I know you’re right. I do. But sometimes it’s better to live in denial,” she says because that’s what I do.
Denial.
It’s better for me that way.
“It’s not, trust me. Tell him you know. Maybe it’s the wake-up call Lucas needs,” I say.
“I love you, Chanel.”
“Love you too, Merci.”
I haven’t seen Lucas since that day. He never came to find me, and I never went looking for him. Never have I seen him in passing, nor have I gone out of my way to see him.
Not that he didn’t plague my thoughts.
My every waking moment.
He has.
He had.