"We want different things, things that impact our future. I think ending it now is better than waiting until we are both in too deep."
I take a step back, my eyes going wide. Waiting until we’re in too deep? I thought he was in too deep months ago, and then he convinced me to fall just as hard. I truly thought he was different.
I was wrong. Way, way, way wrong.
“You can go now,” I say in a calm voice. “You’re excused, but first you need to know one thing.” I pause, choking back the sobs. No way am I letting this asshole see one of my tears for him. I swallow hard. “You’re taking the last piece of my heart with you when you walk out that door.” I see him flinch, but I keep going. “My dad took a piece when he left. My brother took another piece. Jack took a little when he left, and my baby boy took some too. But you, you took the final piece, knowing damn well that if you left me, it’d be the last time I’d ever trust a guy.”
That’s the last thing I want him to hear from me. The one thing that replays in his mind all night tonight and all day tomorrow. Hopefully, this will be the one thing he remembers ten years from now when someone says my name and he thinks of me.
I take my ring off and throw it at him, then spin and rush out of his room, out of his apartment, and out of his life.
Chapter 65
Throw Yourself A Pity Party
The next couple days are worse than any time before when I've been left behind. The way Adrian always looked at me, the way he kissed me, and his extreme jealousy led me to believe he’d never leave. That's why this hurts so much. Every relationship I've been in since Jack, I've gone into it knowing that the guy was not interested in long-term. It was predictable, meaning there were no surprises in the end.
On day three, after Adrian left, Shyanne comes to visit me in my padded room, or my bedroom, whatever you want to call it. When she finds me, I'm finishing off the last of a carton of ice cream. My hair has not been combed in several days, and I'm pretty sure I smell worse than her horse.
Shy comes to sit on the bed but has to move a couple bags of Cheetos, and a half package of Oreos.
"Wow, it's like a five-year-old was given a shopping spree and brought it all back here to eat."
I try to smile, but the effort hurts, so I probably look like I’ve been smacked with a frying pan.
”Look,” she begins. “I know I'm not the best person to be giving advice on how to gain emotional stability, but I do have one suggestion that might help."
I'm thinking she's going to offer something along the means of a bottle of tequila, more ice cream, or possibly even suggest a shower, but she surprises me with a stupid mature suggestion on life.
"One thing Ryder said to me, around the time I met you, was that it's okay to have a pity party for yourself, but you can't allow the party to last forever. So, I've taken that little nugget of advice and created my own coping strategy."
She stares at me for a minute with her super sweet smile, the kind that makes me want to throw up the ice cream I just ate. I motion for her to go on. "Are you going to share this advice or you going to keep it tucked away selfishly in your own pocket?"
Shyanne smiles. "Leave it to you to still be a smart-ass even in the depths of your worst depression.”
I sit up and point a finger at her. "I am not depressed, and don't you dare go around spreading that horrible rumor.” I point at myself. “Keegan Hughes does not get depressed over a boy. I outgrew that issue several years ago.”
Shyanne presses her lips into a firm line and nods, but I can see the smile she's trying to hide. We both know I’m full of shit.
"Okay, I'm sorry." She clears her throat. "Anyway, so when something happens that’s upsetting or frustrating, or I feel like it sets me back either in my relationship with Kade, or something with the horses, I allow myself a pity party. I decide, depending on the severity of the problem or stress, how long I’m allowed to feel sorry for myself. For example, right now I'm struggling with funding to rescue a couple of new horses. The funding I thought I had in place fell through after I’d put a ton of work into it. I had myself all worked up to go to the auction and save two horses, and now it's going to be a while before that can happen. What I wanted to do was yell, cry, cuss, scream, and stop trying to move forward with this business. It’s incredibly stressful to have the lives of horses, and the mental health of children dependent on me. But, instead of giving up and going to rock in a corner somewhere, I allowed myself to be miserable and mope around for two days. I spent that time doing absolutely nothing with the business, not thinking about the horses or the program. I spent my time with my horses and enjoyed them. Then at the end of my pity party I had to put my big girl boots on and get back to work.
I tilt my head, pondering. “How long should I get for the worst heartbreak, in the history of all heartbreaks?”
Poised to stand, she shrugs. “That’s for you to decide, but you start med school in two months so maybe before that.”
She’s sweet and all, but she musta hit her head a few times falling off her horse. Two months is about how long it’ll take me to decide how long my pity party should last.
Chapter 66
My Vagina Is Not Broken
“You’re not fun anymore,” Robert says with a rather sad expression.
"Oh is this compliment sharing time?” I ask. “I had no idea, give me a second while I think of one for you."
We’re in Robert’s apartment, and I’m still in my Pj’s from two days ago. It’s been four weeks since Adrian left and I’ve not yet gotten back on my regular sleep or shower schedule.
I found out from Gemma that Adrian left for Texas that day. That’s why he was packing. I’ve thought of many reasons why he would be going back to Texas. I even used a white board and forced Robert and Gemma help.
The best logical explanation for his trip to Texas and sudden desire for a family is that he found out an old girlfriend had their secret love child. The kid’s five now, and his mom doesn’t want him anymore. So, Adrian is going to get the boy and bring him back to his aunt’s. That’s why he asked me about adoption.
I’m just spitballing ideas.
Robert pouts. “I’m only saying, you used to be mean and I was mean, and we would say mean things to each other and then we would laugh, or not laugh either way you used to be funny, but now you’re just all sad and mopey. You cry so much I was thinking about starting to collect your tears to water the plants. It would help save on the water bill."
"Shut up, I don't cry. Well, I cried once last week and that was because I stubbed my toe on the coffee table."
“We don't have a coffee table,” he says, coming to sit next to me on the couch. “I can't believe you're still trying to pretend like Adrian leaving didn't break your heart. It's okay, how can you not know that? You're human you're allowed to have a broken heart, and hurt feelings." Robert wrinkles his nose. "Well, I'm pretty sure you’re human. Your arms are really short in proportion with those long ass legs of yours. Sometimes you kind of look like a T. rex."
I leap onto the couch knocking him backward while swinging my tiny T. rex arms and smacking him in the face. "My arms are not too short. How dare you say something hurtful to me when I'm in such a bad place. You're a horrible friend.”
Robert grabs my hands and stops my smacking with little force. When he opens his eyes to look at me, a huge smile spreads across his face. "That's the most fun I've had with you in weeks. You can't blame a guy for making you laugh. Oh and by the way you just admitted it to be being brokenhearted."
"I hate him, Robert,” I confess, dropping back on the couch. “I hate him more than I hated any of the others when they left. None of them knew how bad it would hurt me when they left, but Adrian always knew."
Robert sighs, leaning in and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"He emails you every day sweetie, that has to mean something to you. It's been four weeks and you've not answered his calls or responded to any of his emails.
As far as he knows you're back here shacking up with some hot tattooed motorcycle guy, but he continues to write to you every day. But you don't even give him the respect of reading any of the emails.”
I don’t read them because I’m terrified he’s going to say something to make me want to forgive him. I can’t forgive him. I’m four weeks into my recovery and I refuse to go back. I’m also afraid the emails are him apologizing, not telling me he made a mistake, just more apologies. If I see he’s okay with his decision, it’ll break me more.
I scrub my face with both hands. “Maybe I should go find a hot tattooed motorcycle guy. That would certainly help with mending part of my broken something."
Releasing me, Robert scoffs. ”It's not your vagina that's broken, sweetheart. And besides, if you so much as look at another guy like you were thinking of screwing him I would probably break your vagina. I know you still love Adrian and if you were with someone else that would ruin any chance of you two ever getting back together."
Getting back together is off the table, and we both know that.
Because I need to end this depressing conversation, I make a joke. “Who are you kidding? I know how severely allergic you are to the female parts. Just thinking about how to break a vagina would probably cause a major asthmatic episode."
Robert nods and gives me a sad smile. “I know there’s a good chance I would die during that mission, but it's a risk I would take."
Chapter 67
I Need My Mommy
I might be the kind of girl that doesn't take shit, who likes to beat up on boys, and who collects hordes of weapons, but I still need my mom.
I make the drive home the next day. Generally I enjoy a long drive, as it gives me time to think, but right now is not the time I want to be in my own head. Unfortunately, I can't make my brain stop working so by the time I make it to my mom’s, I’m a jittery ball of emotion. I'm not surprised that as soon as my mom wraps her arms around me I begin to sob.
I hate myself at that moment because I swore to never be this girl again. Everyone always says making mistakes is part of life but learning from them is what makes us who we are. How is it that I’ve not learned from my mistakes? How is it that this one boy has the ability to tear down the foundation of the person I've become?
I didn't plan to jump right in to the topic of my wounded soul as soon as I got here, but my blubbering state doesn't allow for any other topic.
Mom and I curl up on the couch for the next hour as I catch her up on everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. Like always, she offers no advice and makes no judgments. She simply listens and sometimes cries when I begin my girly weeping again.
Once I've gotten through the story, and I no longer have the energy to cry, my mom asks her first question.
"What do you think happened that weekend? Do you believe he went home?” She's referring to his trip to his aunt’s that sent this all to shit.
"I do,” I say. "Of all the negative things I can say about Adrian right now, I don't believe he's a liar."
"Okay if you believe he didn't lie, then let's look at what he did say. Maybe he only gave you portions of the truth, and we can attempt to find the real parts and piece it all together."
I pull my knees up onto the couch and against my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I drop my forehead onto my knees as I try to remember what he actually said versus what I meant. I look up when I've got it.
"Okay, he said it was something regarding the boys."
"What else," she prods.
We ran through everything he said, and I tried to recall it as close as I could to the exact words he used. My mom had gotten up, and came back with a notepad at one point, and she’s been writing this all down. I feel like Scooby and the gang trying to solve a mystery.
Mom begins to list off all the important pieces. "Okay, so it had something to do with the boys. When he came back, all of a sudden he was talking about wanting a family." She finishes with her nose scrunched like something smells bad.
"Yes, but that's the part doesn't make sense," I say, as I stand and begin pacing the room. I'm feeling all jittery again. "From the very beginning I told him I didn't want kids. Over the past nine months, we've talked about traveling and how I want to be in the Doctors Without Borders program. So why, all of a sudden, did he decide that he wants kids?"
"No, wait a minute," she says, holding up one finger. "Did he say he wants to have kids? Is that exactly what he said?"
I shake my head. "No, he said he wants a family. Those were his exact words."
"Okay, a family can be a lot of things. I mean some people never get married and have six cats, and they consider that their family. If he didn't say he wants to have children, we have to interpret it the way that he said it."
That brings me back to the idea of him finding out he got some girl knocked up in high school, and he found out he has a kid. If that’s the case, why wouldn’t he just tell me? Fuck, whatever the situation is, why didn’t he tell me?
I press the heel of my hands into my eyes, rubbing. “I just want answers,” I say, thinking how shitty it is that I shortly after I got answers from Jack, about why he left, I’m right back here again—looking for clues to solve some damn mystery of the disappearing man.
Mom tugs at my wrists, pulling my hands from my eye sockets. With a small smile, she says, “Then go get your answers.”
What? Go find him and beat the answers out of him? Huh, why the hell didn’t I think of that?
Chapter 68
Time For Answers
I pull up in front of his aunt’s house and feel slightly nauseated when I see his car. I know I need to get answers, but I also know I may not like those answers. I’m glad to see he’s here, and not in Texas with his asshole dad. Adrian may be a heart-breaking piece of shit, but the idea of him taking any type of abuse from his dad hurts my heart a little more.
I knock on the front door, and it feels odd. I’ve been coming to this house for months, but I was always with Adrian. Now I feel like an unwanted guest.
A girl I’ve never met answers the door and my heart pauses for a few beats. She looks about my age and is very pretty with long dark hair, and curves everywhere.
“Can I help you?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
I clear my throat. “Is Adrian here?”
She gives me a sad smile then opens the door further, gesturing for me to come in.
I nod once and step past her, having no clue what to say. As I turn the corner into the living room, I’m shocked at what I see. Adrian's aunt is lying in a hospital bed, against one wall. Adrian is sitting next to the bed holding her hand. She looks up and tries to smile, but all I can see are the tubes running from her arm to the IV bags hanging above her.
"What's wrong?" I croak out, past the sobs stuck in my throat.
Adrian stands and leans over, kissing her on the forehead. “I’ll be right back."
He directs the strange girl, which I’m now guessing is a nurse, to watch over Diane while he's away.
When we’re outside, I spin on my heels. "What is going on Adrian? What's wrong with her?"
Adrian is staring at the ground, grasping the back of his neck with one hand, the other stuffed in his pocket. When he answers, he doesn't look at me. "She has a brain tumor that's growing every day. She only has a couple weeks… if that."
I can't reconcile what I just saw, and what he's telling me, with the woman I’ve come to love over the past several months. I begin piecing everything together. Her headaches at Christmas, and several times I’ve known about since then. Adrian has been on her about talking to her doctor. She didn't make it to graduation, having told Adrian that she had a terrible migraine that day too. Adrian went and picked up the boys so that they could come, and none of them mentioned her being sick. I have a hard time believing that she became ill within a matter of weeks.
"When did you find out?" I ask.
Adrian releases the back of his neck
then walks to the steps of the porch to sit. I follow behind him, sitting next to him.
"I've known she's been sick for a while but didn't know that it was a terminal tumor until a few weeks ago."
A few weeks ago. About the time he got that call and everything changed between us.
"You knew she'd been having headaches. I told her she needed to see someone about it, but I wasn't here all the time to see how bad she was getting, and to make sure she was seeing doctors. Apparently, she's known for a few months but wanted to wait until after my graduation because she knew that I’d rush here to take care of her. So, she spent the last few months getting everything in order," he laughs, but there's no humor. "She's been planning her own death, and arranging her own funeral all while getting everything in place so that the boys and I will have everything we need when she's gone."
I can't imagine the stress that Diane has been coping with, not only because of her own illness but mostly for her worry of what will happen to the boys. Holy shit, what will happen to the boys?
Before I can think through those options, Adrian goes on.
"The boys are racked with guilt, thinking they should have told me sooner how about how sick she was getting. But they're teenage boys, their lives revolve around them, they're not programmed to worry about people around them. I tried to tell them it wouldn't have mattered either way. The diagnosis was a death sentence from the beginning."
“Does Brandon know?" My stomach turns thinking about him sitting alone, in another country, surrounded by a bunch of men who have no idea how to support each other. My heart breaks a little more.
Adrian’s voice catches in his throat. "Yeah, he's on his way home. But it can sometimes take a couple of weeks from the approved leave until he actually arrives stateside.”
Chapter 69
My Future Changed In One Day
"I don't know what to think right now, Adrian,” I tell him honestly, as I stand, giving him my back.
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