“Want to get out of here?” Matt asks.
“Please,” I say as he ushers me through the house and outside. Zeke follows us out and runs ahead of us while we head away from the party. Matt walks me towards the wooden fence at the opposite end of the property and helps me up so I can sit on top of it. He leans beside me. Zeke lays down at our feet.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” I say looking up at the stars.
“Are you okay? Zeke is on your ass,” Matt asks.
“He knows I am upset,” I say softly. I start to remember my last night looking up at these stars and suddenly I know what I need to do.
“Do you have bolt cutters?” I ask out of the blue.
“Yes, you’re not thinking about hurting Damian, are you?” he laughs.
“Not quite,” I say. I know what I need from him tonight. And I am going to get it. And yes, it’s going to kill both of us, but I have to.
I wait until everyone leaves and the house is just Donna, Matt, and me. Donna set up the guest bedroom for me and Zeke. So, after helping her clean up from the festivities—Damian being conveniently being MIA—I decide to go get a shower and think my plan through. I open my phone and Google the train routes, it would take me longer, but I could catch the first train if I start putting my plan into effect now.
I pack up my backpack, packing the bolt cutter that Matt gave me earlier with all of my stuff. I write a note to Donna and leave it on the bed, assuring her that I will always come when Damian wasn’t there, and that I loved her too. I’ll just need space from him for a while. I put the vest on Zeke and close the door behind us. The house is so quiet, but I just realized it should be. It is nearly 3am. The train leaves at six, I am cutting it close, but I think I can do this. I hope I can do this. He is going to hate me, but I need him to.
I wake Matt first.
“What the hell?” he says as I knock on his door.
“Will you do me a favor?” I ask him. He is groggy, answering the door in his boxers.
“This better be good,” he says leaning on the doorway.
“Will you take me to the Amtrak in a couple hours?”
“What time is your train?”
“Six.”
“Jesus, yea. Wake me up in an hour?”
“About that…” I say.
“Felicity…”
“I need you to pick me up at the bridge.”
“Why would you be at the bridge?”
“Please?” I say looking desperate. I must look pathetic enough for him to say yes, because he does. Without question.
“I’ll get dressed. Text me fifteen minutes before you want picked up,” he sighs.
“Thank you,” I say softly as I walk towards Damian’s door.
“Felicity?” Matt calls.
“Yea.”
“You owe me big time,” he practically growls.
“Coffee will be on me this week,” I say with a smile.
“You bet your ass,” he mutters as Zeke and I head down the hallway.
I hesitate before I knock—I have no clue where Damian has been most of the night and this wouldn’t work if he drank after our fight.
I take a deep breath and knock, lightly as to not wake up their mom.
He doesn’t open, so I let myself in. Damian is such a heavy sleeper; I figure I’ll do what I need to do first. Zeke whines and I hush him.
I have never been the girlfriend that touches her boyfriend’s phone. I think it is childish, dishonest, and slightly abusive—couples should respect each other’s privacy. But tonight I am making an exception. I take a deep breath and pray that Damian hasn’t changed the code in three months. He hasn’t.
I find my name.
I delete it.
If he wanted to, he could probably get it back from Donna or Matt—but I already had asked in my letter for her not to. I’ll tell Matt in the car. Hell, he might have my number memorized, but I need to do this. After deleting every trace of me—unfollowing me on social media, the works, I sit the phone down and just look at him.
Can I cut him off like this? I don’t know. But I am sure as hell going to try this time.
I sit on the bed and wake him.
“Damian,” I say in a harsh whisper. “Get up.”
“Fee?”
“Wake up,” I say softly. He looks groggier than his brother.
“Damian, please, get your ass out of bed,” I say trying not to show any emotion. He sits up and I immediately get off the bed. He looks offended, but I am protecting my own.
“Ready to talk about it?” he asks.
“Nope, get dressed,” I say, honestly.
“Felicity it is three in the morning,” he says opening his phone. I don’t know what I’ll do if he finds out that I took out my number before I leave him. I feel guilty as he holds it. Is this the right thing? Yes, it is. Just do it.
“Yep, get dressed,” I say walking out to wait on you.
Five minutes later he walks out and looks at me expectantly.
“What are we doing?”
“Walking,” I say leading him out of the house.
“Where are we going?”
“Just come on,” I say. My stomach is in knots. The bridge is a twenty-minute walk at least. I lead us out to the main road and start walking towards the town. Zeke follows, his mind on his job.
“You’re making Zeke work for a walk?” he asks. He has to notice that I am packed up. Where does he think we are walking to? The bus?
“Not exactly feeling well,” I say softly. That isn’t a lie.
“Then we should go back. Are you okay?” He cares. He always has. I just don’t know why. It makes no sense. Why did he care so much, yet refuse to let me be happy with him? Am I that bad at sex? Is that it?
“Far from it. Keep walking.”
“We really shouldn’t be out here in dark clothes at night,” he says looking around. I ignore him and keep walking. I grip the strap on my bag and Zeke’s lead and take a few deep breaths.
“Seriously, what are we doing?” he says pulling on the bag after five minutes.
“You want to talk, talk. But we are walking,” I say pushing forward. Now he is beside me.
“You are saying that so you can avoid eye contact,” he says, he is right. I ignore him. He lets the conversation slip, choosing to walk beside me wordlessly as I guide us to the bridge. I know exactly where the lock is—despite the number of them. I pull out my phone and tell Matt I would be ready in twenty minutes. This won’t take that long. Even though I will beg for a different answer, I know how this is going to end.
I stop right in front of our lock, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I just look out on the water and wait for him to spit whatever he wants out. This is his chance.
“Are we stopping here?”
“Yea, I need a second,” I lie. This is our final destination.
“Felicity, you are not a warm body to me and you know that,” he says, turning me to face him.
“Do I?” I say honestly. I feel dirty and gross.
“You should by now,” he says sincerely. I hear the hurt in his voice. He doesn’t get to be mad at me for being upset by the fact that he doesn’t want me.
“You know how I feel, Damian. You knew that before you kissed me. You knew that before you had sex with me. You also knew that you didn’t feel the same way before we went to your room. So, don’t feed me the lines, okay? You went back to your old ways. That was using my body, not cherishing it,” I say harshly.
“Who says I don’t feel the same way?”
“Stop that! Just stop it! Stop it with the mixed signals, Damian. You either want me or you don’t.”
“I never said I didn’t want you.” I don’t want you in that way, Fee. I hear his voice in my head, and now I finally believe the words.
“Bullshit. Just stop. If you want in my life the door is open, but you can’t just stand in the doorway and block traffic. You’re making it impossible to move o
n. You constantly snap me, message me to see how I am doing. You need to decide if you want me—all in. Or you don’t.”
“I can’t be your boyfriend, Fee. It is better off that way.” It isn’t better. I am miserable. Why can’t he see that?
“Then you can’t be my friend either, Damian. It is just not fair. You keep calling. You keep texting. I can’t move on with you as a presence in my life. I just can’t. I don’t need someone who feels guilty that I am hurt.”
“That’s not fair, Fee. We were best friends first, please just hear me out,” he says but I don’t listen, I interrupt him.
“Best friends don’t fuck one another, last time I checked.”
“Don’t call it that.”
“What? Fucking? That’s what we did, Damian. We fucked. What do you want to call it? Making love? Is that it? You love me?” I yell back. He looks down.
“Don’t answer that,” I yell. “Today is on me too, I knew I shouldn’t have gone into that room with you and I did it anyway. It’s my own fault, but you had this planned, Damian.”
“I did not plan this,” he says adamantly. He is lying.
“Your room is always that clean? You always carry a condom in your pocket to go to family celebrations?” I ask. His face turns red, I see it even in the darkness.
“You wanted a break-up fuck, and you got it. You convinced me, kudos. But it has a price—I can’t talk to you anymore, not feeling the way I do.”
“You’re mad. Please don’t make decisions like this when you’re mad.”
“Damn right I am mad! What did you want from this Damian? What did you expect?”
“I just missed you,” he says softly.
“Then be with me. Love me. Don’t walk away again,” I beg.
“Fee, please. I can’t.”
I just nod.
“I love you, Damian. But I don’t want to love you anymore. Not when you obviously can’t love me. I deserve better than this. I can’t wait on you anymore. Don’t you see how entirely unfair this is?”
“Felicity…”
“Remember the last time we were here?” I ask. “You promised that no matter what happened, that the lock meant forever. You made me promise, too.”
“Yea,” he says. He is crying now, but I try not to focus on it.
“Since August, I have been desperately and pathetically waiting for you. I have been trying to survive with just half of you. I have been waiting for you to stop hurting us both, but I can’t wait for you to keep your promises anymore, Damian. I just can’t.”
“I’m not breaking my promise, Felicity. I am here. I want to be there for you.”
“Not in the way I need or want you.”
I put my backpack down, unzip it, and pull out the cutters. He is only keeping the line open because he knows I need someone. And I refuse to be a burden on him anymore. If he wants other girls—so be it.
“Don’t,” he whispers.
“I can’t keep that promise anymore, Damian. I can’t have hope for us any longer,” I say handing him the cutters.
“Felicity, you’re just mad. Please.”
“Cut it, Damian. It’s the second one to the right.”
“No,” he says throwing the cutters on the road. “I know this is unfair. I get it. I’ll leave you alone for a while. I get it, okay?” he sobs. I go over and grab the cutters. I see Matt’s headlights coming down the road.
“This,” I say pointing to the lock, “this is hope that one day you will want me just as much as I want you, and I can’t move on while there is hope. Do you want me?” I ask. Maybe this isn’t fair of me. But there was symbolism here. I need to be cut lose. Especially if he is going to make me sit on the sidelines of his life.
“Yes,” he says.
“As your girlfriend?” I ask, knowing the answer is no. He shakes his head.
“Then I have to cut you off. I deserve more than someone who wants to be there for me out of guilt,” I say, using all my strength to cut the lock myself. I take it off the bridge and hand it to him.
Matt’s truck is on the road heading towards the bridge.
“I want you to remember that I came here. I begged. I gave it my all, losing every last shred of dignity I have. So, I can be done now. This, this pain you’re feeling? It’s all on you,” I say sobbing and picking up my bag.
“Stop talking to me. Stop calling me. Stop hurting me,” I say as Matt pulls up.
“Felicity…please,” he says grabbing my hand. I pull away and open the door to let Zeke in the car. I get in the passenger side of the truck and shut it before he could get in. Before he could stop me.
“Take me to the station, Mattie,” I say in tears as Damian hits the side of the truck.
“You sure?” he says concerned.
“I am positive.”
Break Down
I called off at work. I have been in my room all day, sleeping and wallowing in my own self-pity. He meant it. And I became a burden, just like Daniel always said.
No one loves an invalid, Felicity.
I start to get up to get more ice cream, but when I wake up to beeping and hushed voices, I groan.
“She’s awake. Oh my God,” I hear Natalie say and nurses come in.
“Hi, Felicity, can you tell me your birthday?”
“June 15th, 1998,” I say.
“And what month is it?”
“I am guessing November, still.”
“Good, we are going to get the doctor to come in, Felicity.”
I look over at Natalie wanting some answers.
She tells me that I seized more than once and by the amount of pain I am in, she is right. Natalie is freaking out, crying. She has been taking care of Zeke.
“How long have I been out of it?” I ask her.
“It is Wednesday, Fee. You’ve been here since Sunday morning. They told us the medicines would knock you out and that we will know more when you wake up about brain function…God, all of us were scared.”
“Who is all of us?” I say wanting to know whether Mattie was a man of his word.
“I come when I can, but Matt, Mere, and Melody have been here too. Donna came once. No one has told Damian, Matt said you wouldn’t want us to and that Damian didn’t need this on his conscience. He’s not doing well with this, Fee.”
“Good,” I say, thankful for Matt.
The doctor comes in and checks my neurofunction. He orders a CT and says that I am lucky. I was status epilepticus for twenty minutes. They used my epilepsy care plan and got me straightened out—but there was concern over brain damage. I had none.
Melody comes and relieves a tired Natalie after a while. I tell her to take Zeke with her, I was safe here.
“Hi,” Mel says.
“Hi,” I say.
“You ever scare me like that again and I swear to God…” she starts as she comes over and hugs me. The move stuns me—we don’t hug. And normally she is yelling by now. I notice Daniel isn’t with her.
“Um…okay,” I say. I am surprised she even showed, it pisses me off actually.
She stays with me until Dr. Mason comes and checks on me in the morning, never yelling once. It puts me more on edge really.
“You’ve scared us, Felicity,” he says checking my chart.
“It looks like I have scared a lot of people,” I say.
“Felicity were you taking your meds?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say looking at him.
“Okay,” he says taking out his stethoscope and listening. I take deep breaths and let him listen.
“Well, it looks like you skipped a dose,” he says.
“I don’t think I did, but I don’t remember. I have been under a lot of stress this past weekend and I…” I say trying to think. Did I take it Saturday night? I don’t know. I can’t remember.
“Felicity…don’t panic,” he says. I have known Dr. Mason a long time. He knows I don’t just skip doses.
“We will start you on a new regimen. But I am prescr
ibing emergency medicine. We can’t have you going status epilepticus again. From now on, you will have something on hand so that when seizures last longer than five minutes or when they happen twice in a row, the person with you can treat you.”
“Okay,” I say. “But what if I am alone?” I say and he just looks at me.
“Felicity, I think we are getting to a point where it is not a good idea for you to be alone.”
“Dr. Mason, we have talked about this. I refuse to be a burden. On anyone.”
“You have roommates, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will train one of them to do the medicine. And then afterwards we will train someone else. I am just saying it is not a good idea for you to live alone. We don’t have to cross that bridge until then.”
“But my roommates can’t leave me alone. You’re saying I need a babysitter in the mornings,” I say angrily.
“I am saying that you being alone in the mornings is not in your best interest, yes. Status epilepticus is very uncommon with JME, but it happens, Felicity. And we have been struggling with your meds for a while now. We just need to make sure it gets controlled.”
“I didn’t have any myoclonics. None. I normally have them before a TC,” I say.
“The Keppra must be working on them. We will need to up the Lamictal.”
“Won’t that increase the possibility of jerking? You just upped it,” I ask.
“We can cross that bridge when we get to it,” he says.
“I’ll have my nurse come in and explain the emergency buccal midazolam. We will set up appointments to get the people who are around you trained, and you and I will go over your protocol together.”
“Am I just supposed to stay here until then?” I say.
“No, we will set everything up. We took you off the IV meds, you’ll take your new regimen and if you don’t seize, we will get you out of here in a few days. But you’ll need to have someone with you until we get the emergency meds worked out.”
“At all times?”
“At all times. So, they can call for emergency help. You are to call an ambulance for any TC until you have the meds.”
“Great,” I say rolling my eyes and Mel gives me a look.
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