“Never. But you’re no longer the only parent who gets to make decisions. Get used to it.”
I shake my head. “You’re not saying this to me.”
He shrugs as if he hasn’t just stabbed me in the heart. “I guess deep down, I was protecting myself too. How’s that for a one-eighty? In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve realized I. Can’t. Fucking. Trust. You.”
“You’ve made your point.” My voice cracks, as my heart shatters. “Go.”
“I’ll pick up Dante in the morning,” and with that, he shuts the door.
Troy
“Hey, man, good to have you back,” Kevin says, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Good to be back,” I lie, scanning the party. Nothing about being here appeals to me. Everything feels fucked personally and everything seems to be going right for me professionally.
Inside I’m a shell. Outside I’m still the man I’ve always been, a free agent in every sense of the word. Business as usual.
And I hate every fucking minute of it.
She’s with him.
The same thought eats me from the inside out and has been for hours as I sip my beer to try and numb up. But I’m deluding myself. Nothing is working. Nothing.
Dante senses the separation between his mother and me, but he’s none the wiser about our relationship or lack thereof. We were right to keep it hidden. It’s been weeks since I handed back her key. The consistent stab I feel every time I open my eyes in the morning is enough to end me. The ache worsens when I turn over in my bed to see Clarissa readying Dante for another day, another day without me.
Aside from being close to my son, I hate my living situation and can’t wait until the semester is over. I want no part of existing in this house the way things are. Theo’s head is in the fucking clouds, hence why he agreed to let me throw this get together, and Lance already has one foot out the door.
I’m about to get drafted, graduate with my degree, and live my dream.
Inside this full circle, I’m empty.
And it’s pure fucking torture.
She’s with him.
Finishing school and snatching my diploma feels like a sentence, much like loving a woman who can’t give me the whole of herself. But I refuse to pay any more for crimes I didn’t commit. And every day, I battle with the guilt of just how much I hurt her with my threats and the way I left things.
When I confronted her, I was unreasonably angry and rightfully so.
It was all take and no give with her, and I’d hit my fucking limit.
And the feeling of seeing her now is both dose and withdrawal, either side of a prison I can’t seem to escape.
This unrequited love shit is for the birds.
But wasn’t it love we had? What we felt?
Wanting this woman is torture. Loving this woman is fucking humiliating.
This shit has to end, but lately, I can’t seem to breathe without the air scraping the rawness in my chest. The hurt only fuels my anger. I’m drowning in resentment, teetering on the brink of love and hate for her. All of that effort, everything I did to earn my family, was for nothing.
Because she’s with him.
And right now, I’d give anything, do anything, to make this ache in my chest cease.
We haven’t spoken. No words, just texts, and all of them about Dante. She’s working her ass off. I know that much by the absence of her SUV in the late hours of the night. She hasn’t once looked my way when we’ve crossed paths, and I know it has everything to do with my threats. It’s as if I took the knife from my own heart and drove it straight into her back. I went there, to a place she’s not likely to forgive me for. And I did it purposefully, eradicating our chances because, without trust, we have nothing. And with that decision, that’s exactly what we are, nothing. But today she threw the dagger back the second she got into that BMW. The proverbial nail in our coffin.
With the work done and the start of my future mere weeks away, I can’t seem to take a step forward or in any direction.