Forever Love

by Chelsea Landon

  “What did I tell you?” He’s in my face again, demanding, refusing to let up. “I told you to stay away from Jay. He’s the one guy I asked you to stay away from. I fucking begged you.” Cash turns and I brace myself for what he might throw next but he doesn’t.

  “Colton knows too.” He paces the floor, his feet crunching in the broken glass and he bites his nails, a nervous habit he’s had since he was a nine-year-old boy sending me check yes or no notes. “He’s probably told everyone by now.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” I tell him, staring at the floor.

  “Yes, he would, Madison. YES, HE WOULD! You are so fucking blind to everything around you.” He pants, the rage is consuming him but he’s trying to calm down. I can see him struggling with it, wanting it, but resisting.

  I’ve never seen Cash like this.

  Ever.

  I’ve seen him happy, consumed with lust, soaring, sad, carrying a casket with his best friend in it, crying, but never like this. He’s never shown much emotion around me but this, he’s breaking.

  Piece by piece he’s breaking.

  He’s not just angry with me. No, there’s more to this than just me cheating on him. That night is giving him rage too. Feeding him in ways he can never imagine. It’s all coming back and he’s finally placing the blame.

  “Why? Why wasn’t I enough?” He asks slowly, rough with unsteady anger. “I gave you everything you wanted. Why couldn’t I be enough to save you? Why couldn’t you have waited until we got there?”

  I catch the meaning behind that question before he does. He’s so angry he doesn’t even see his slip up.

  “I don’t need saving.” I shake my head and wrap my arms around myself, cold, shivering from the ice emanating off him.

  “You’re right. You’re fucking broken. And I’m done.” He swallowed, tears flowing over his red cheeks. “The way I loved you was consuming.” He spit, clouded, rage filled eyes stabbing me with his past tense words that rip my skin wide open. “I can’t fucking do it anymore. The best thing that has ever happened to me was seeing that missing condom, and hearing it from Colton that you fucked Jay.”

  No. The best thing that could have happened to him was leaving me years ago before I had a chance to destroy him like this.

  I deserve everything he’s saying.

  I deserve so much more.

  I’m a horrible person not only for what I did that night, but everything I’ve done since then.

  To Cash.

  To Macy.

  Everyone.

  Just when I think he might leave, he doesn’t and lets out a strangled breath. “I can’t,” he crashes finally and braces himself against the wall. His legs give way, his feet sliding against shards of glass. “I can’t do this anymore.” He sobs into his hands.

  There it is.

  I destroyed the last piece of my life that was giving me light. It’s gone, and probably forever. My chest constricts, every muscle tight waiting for him to say something.

  He doesn’t.

  It hurts more.

  This isn’t love.

  This right here is hate.

  He finally hates me.

  There’s so much pain, hatred and sadness pouring from him that his words rip open wounds I didn’t know were there. Screams I’ve let die inside me release and I cry next to him, not just any cry, it’s the kind of crying you think might never stop. It hurts more to look at him, burns even worse and kills me just as much. There’s no relief from crying, it only hurts more.

  Minutes pass. Could be three. Could be three years.

  Cash won’t look at me now. I should say something, anything. I should tell him he’s right and it’s better this way. He’s finally doing the right thing. I want to. The words are there, they burn as badly as the tears that keep falling from both of our eyes. Instead, my words are trapped where my heart was left, buried six feet deep.

  His feet slide and he attempts to stand, trying to brace himself but he can’t. Instead his head falls to his hands. “I don’t want you. I don’t want to want you. It’s destroying my fucking life. Eventually there’s going to be nothing left of me. Nothing.” His head shakes but he still doesn’t raise it to look at me. “It’s all you, and me trying to save you. I can’t do it anymore because it’s killing me.” And then he stands, strong and tall, hands that have held me for years shove deep in the pockets of his jeans and he steps toward the door. “I’m tired. I’m fucking tired of your shit and Landon’s. You two might as well have died in that crash too. You know that? To me, to Macy, it’s like we lost three friends that day.”

  When he’s at the door, I ask, “So this is it? We’re breaking up?”

  I know he’s done but I have to hear it. I have to.

  “Breaking up?” He laughs. “We haven’t been together since you tried to fuck my best friend. I should have left then and never looked back.”

  He should have. He’s absolutely right on that.

  “We’re toxic, Madison. We’re a disease with no cure. We kill each other inside.”

  My turn to laugh. And it’s just as bitter as his was. “You don’t think I know that? You think I want to feel this shit?”

  “Yes, I do. We did this, Madison. We did. We broke each other. That’s how much control you have over me because I let you. I LET YOU!”

  His anger shakes the room, one last crash and my hands fly to my ears when my bookshelf collides with the ground.

  “And you control me!” I scream, because he does and he has to know.

  “No. I don’t.” He shook his head violently. “I love you. That’s the tragic part!”

  “Then stop loving me.” I drop my hands and let them fall to my sides. “You shouldn’t.”

  “I can’t.” Cash takes a deep breath, as if he’s been dying to take that breath since he came in here. “That’s my problem.”

  He’s heading for the door, stepping over everything he’s destroyed in the room when there’s a knock at the door. It’s the campus police checking on me.

  Cash sighs and backs against the wall where the bookshelf once sat. His eyes are deep and hurt.

  “We received a noise complaint, ma’am.” The officer looks past me and to Cash. “Do we have a problem here, Bryant?”

  Cash looks at the ground, and then me out of the corner of his eye. “Nope.”

  “Did you do this?”

  “Yep.” He’s not hiding anything. Cash never does. He doesn’t need to.

  “Why?” The officer leans into the door frame, relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t seem too concerned, but he’s also not letting Cash leave.

  By the way he’s shaking, he wants to leave. He’s had enough and can’t even look at me without breaking. His tears are still present but not falling, just there pooling.

  Cash starts to speak and it’s clear he wants to be anywhere but here as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “She fucked my friends, fucked her drug dealer, and broke my heart. That’s why.”

  I let the words sink in as he spoke them. The impact of his words almost make me feel like I am being tortured.

  I think campus security sees there’s no harm, Cash wouldn’t hurt me. They leave a minute later and Cash is lingering by the door, tears slowly falling. He’s all messed up but he can’t leave.

  “You don’t think I know that? I know what I’ve done to us.”

  “Know what?” he’s refusing to even look at me now.

  “Broke your heart.”

  “Don’t you see… I do love you. But you’re constantly leaving me hanging.” He tells me, his voice softer now. “You basically walk away when you want, and expect me to be there when you come back. If you don’t want me, end it. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t end it. You have to do it.”

  I say nothing.

  I can’t do it either.

  “Now I’m asking nicely,” he says, his voice even and soft but still holding tension. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

&nb
sp; It’s my turn to be hurt. And I am. I know exactly what I need to say to him. “We were never together, remember?”

  He stares at me for the longest time, like he’s watching the final seconds of a game count down.

  “Yeah…” he pauses, as if he can’t believe I just said those words, his chin shakes as tears fall from both our eyes. It takes him a second to get around his breaking words. He swallows and drops his eyes to the floor. “You’re right.” As he passes by me, he pauses and leans in so that I feel his warmth and I know I’m going to miss it. I feel the beat in his chest, his breath on my face. “If I text you… don’t answer it.”

  And then he’s gone.

  Forever.

  I stare at the door at it closes and then springs back from where he broke it.

  I fucking stare because there goes the rest of my heart.

  November 27, 2013

  Pain makes you do stupid shit.

  “What do you need?”

  My eyes are barely open, my skin ice cold and aching. “I need something.”

  I want this pain gone. It’s what I’ve tried to destroy for years and I never succeed and now it seems I’ve made the pain so much worse.

  “I didn’t know you had a twin sister.”

  It’s not a question.

  Jay’s referring to when he gave Macy the pills he promised me a few weeks back. Without looking at me, he hands me another bag of Vicodin and Oxycodone.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  He raises an eyebrow at my tone and pushes me back against the bed. “I don’t need to know a goddamn thing.” He says unbuckling his belt.

  Pain makes you believe you’re not worth it. Makes you feel like you’re not worth it.

  November 28, 2013

  I’m a wreck.

  All I can do is cry.

  Then I get high. And when that doesn’t work, I call Landon because my misery needs company and maybe he can talk me down, because I’m feeling hopeless and thinking crazy.

  It’s Thanksgiving and I’m alone staring at the destruction of my room I haven’t bothered to clean up. While most students go home with their families, I stay on campus.

  “What did you expect him to do?” Landon asks taking the bong from me and hands me a turkey sandwich.

  “Do you think we should have Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “Listen,” he takes a hit and then reaches for the sandwich. “We’re having a turkey sandwich with cranberries on it. That’s the same.”

  Landon plays with his phone for a half a second and then turns to me smiling and bobbing his head. He thinks he’s being funny.

  “What kind of bastard would play that song right now?” I shake my head when “Single Ladies” comes on.

  “Me.” Landon smiles and I kind of hate him for it. Raising his hand, he scratches the back of his head. “I would play that song right now.”

  It’s funny.

  I refuse to admit that it is though and don’t even crack a smile.

  “I’m glad you find my misery so fucking entertaining, Landon.” I don’t laugh. I can’t. Because hearing that song makes me think of that night and then pain takes over.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to make you laugh.” He bumps my shoulder when he passes the bong. “It’s what friends are for?”

  “Does Macy know you’re here?”

  Landon sighs, smoke rising between us as he takes a hit and inhales, slow and relaxed. On the exhale, he speaks. “No. She’s back in Canby probably. I don’t really know.”

  I take the bong next and do the same. “I screwed up, Landon. I really screwed up this time.”

  “Hey, it could be worse. You could be me.”

  I finish the sandwich and it’s actually good. Landon takes that moment to look at me.

  “Did you call him?”

  I sigh because it’s all I can do. The thought of him breaks my heart and sends a sharp pain through my veins. “What am I going to say?”

  Landon shrugs. “Tell him the truth.”

  “I don’t even know what that is anymore.” I say, because I don’t.

  Cash had every right to say those things to me. I intentionally hurt him and now I felt like an ass because he was right.

  If I could have taken back everything I’d done to him, I would have. There’s just some things you can’t take back. You can’t undo them.

  I stare at the clock when Landon leaves around one the following morning.

  3:03 AM.

  I check my phone.

  Nothing.

  “If I text you, don’t answer.”

  November 29, 2013

  Civil War Game Day

  Autzen Stadium Eugene, Oregon

  I don’t want to think about Madison but I do. For minutes, then hours, then days. It’s all that’s on my mind.

  The morning of the game when I should be one hundred percent in the zone, my mind is on that girl and those lifeless eyes I never could save.

  I toss and turn and stare at the clock.

  1:13 AM.

  2:13 AM.

  2:28 AM.

  2:49 AM.

  3:03 AM.

  My heart pounds. Is she thinking of me?

  I get up around five when sleep doesn’t come and get into the shower. Then work on my paper before heading to the field.

  It’s not easy to go on with school and football after the last few days. Nothing’s easy.

  Before the Civil War game tonight, I have to finish up my paper on the influence on architecture during the Renaissance. The subject ordinarily fascinates me because during the Renaissance time period people lived their life for the church. Devoted everything to it.

  Sound familiar?

  Art was designed around religion, paintings were painted about religious subjects.

  Hell, even buildings were designed to reflect that devotion with architectural ornamentation and structures like flying buttresses that soared to the heavens. Every aspect of a building reflected God and how spiritual people were.

  They believed so strong in God, though they’d never seen Him, they worshipped him enough to live their life for Him. Their faith, love and devotion to the unknown was all-encompassing.

  I felt like in a way, I understood that feeling.

  What would these people do if they realized all that was a lie?

  I felt like that now.

  I felt like everything I knew was a lie. One I saw all along but avoided.

  As I get ready for the game, I look in the mirror, the man there is not someone I know. Red welts cover my face, my lip is swollen and cracked, a visible gash present. My eye is swollen with a deep purple mark lining in the crease. I run my fingertip over the gash on my lip and it stings. Burns. Much like my heart.

  “Who fucked you up?” Jet asks, amused with himself.

  I turn my head toward him, raising an eyebrow. As I absently grind my teeth, I can barely keep myself from knocking his fucking teeth in knowing he slept with Madison at some point. Every guy on my team, when I look at them now, I imagine they’ve fucked her and it makes me sick.

  I think Jet knows I’m not going to answer him and turns around and looks back at his locker.

  I throw my pads around and reach for my Gatorade. After finishing the last of it, I toss the container in the garbage and sit down on the bench staring at my hands with my elbows rested on my knees.

  Landon stops before me. I see the question dancing in his eyes. He wants to ask me something, anything, but he doesn’t have the fucking balls to do it right then.

  He walks away.

  I finish getting on my uniform and head into the dark tunnel with the music blaring around us, slap my hand against the “Win The Day” sign as we exit the tunnel and are greeted by nearly sixty-thousand screaming fans awaiting the toughest match-up we’ll see all season long. Oregon State Beavers. Finally my mind fades a little and I play football. The one place I can get her out of my mind even if it is just for one play at a time.


  The game is close and it isn’t until the second half when we finally wake up. Our turnovers are ridiculous so I make the call to run the ball. I get 21 yards and the safety comes up on me, hesitating knowing who I am and then goes for my feet. He makes a good solid tackle and I can’t fault him for that.

  Next quarter, Landon is held up off the line of scrimmage so I lob it in the air where I think he’ll be. He catches it in his lap for the touchdown. He stands and tosses the ball to the ref, no reaction at all as the guys pat his back. I give him a nod, a congratulations, he does the same.

  With twenty-nine seconds to play, we make one final drive with a final 12-yard pass to Landon in the end zone to win 36-35.

  It was a bad throw but Landon deserved credit for that one. He scored every touchdown that game for us. Best performance I’ve seen out of him all year. The team and fans rush the field after the game.

  I walk off.

  Everyone is celebrating as we change, as they should be. For eight years the Ducks have defended this rivalry with the Beavers and we didn’t disappoint. It was a nice change after that loss on the road to the Wildcats.

  Standing at my locker, I wanted to be happy. I should be. That win got us a possible chance at the bowl game.

  Only I’m not happy. I can’t be.

  For so long all I’ve wanted was this. Be who I am but it doesn’t feel right without her.

  I’ve given everything to make her see and I got nothing in turn.

  Nothing.

  I can’t take this pain. I can’t take this void and the fucking reality that she’s gone and what I said to her. Fuck her. Fuck her for making me say that shit. Fuck her for destroying me.

  The guys are talking about the game, living it up on the high of the win against our biggest rival and I’m pissed. Not only at the game, there was a point when I didn’t think we would win it, and my mind isn’t here right now. I do pick up on Landon’s mood. There’s something off with him too and I don’t actually care what it is.

  He looks over at me but doesn’t smile. “Good game. Best throw you made all year.”

  I should acknowledge him. I should say thank you but I can’t make myself do it.

  Maybe I’m an asshole.