Page 68 of F*ck You

“I’m surprised you aren’t comforting her right now in the bedroom.”

The air around us turned frigid as he pondered his response. “She doesn’t know if she’s going to stay. She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell she doesn’t want to stay if we’re not all together. She said something odd earlier, and it became clear she’d rather disappear than come between us.”

I snorted. “She might disappear again, that’s right. If she does, then I guess that means once a runner, always a runner.”

The words barely finished escaping my mouth when something hard slammed into my jaw, and I went flying off the couch and onto the floor. I reached up to touch my lip and pulled it away, revealing a drop of newly spilled blood. Once the ringing in my ears subsided, I looked up to Larsen, the fire in my eyes high enough to take on his.

“What the fuck, man?”

He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, glaring at me. He was obviously upset with something. “Stop acting like you don’t care. I know you care about her, and I know you care about what happens to all of us. You’re not ready to give up on life yet, because if you were, you wouldn’t have made it this far. You wouldn’t have continued to find a reason to fight every day. You’re just like her, shattered but still stronger than you’re willing to admit. You both need to get over your fucking selves and your fucking pity parties, because it’s too exhausting to carry the pieces for someone who won’t bother to try and even lift one up.”

Without another word, he stepped over me and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, not bothering to even look at me. “Take the time you need to in order to deal with your shit, but you better come back around. It doesn’t matter how long you’re gone for, as long as you come back. Preferably with a better attitude.”

At that, he left and shut the door behind him with a calmness to rival the torment inside of me.

---