Page 120 of Becoming Selfish

Eli drapes his tattooed arm over my waist as he lays his head on my chest, needing me to hold him. I listen as his breathing slows and steadies until he’s fast asleep. Keeping my eyes closed, I try to join him, but my mind doesn’t want to shut off. It’s swirling around, taunting me by reminding me that people always leave me. That I don’t belong anywhere. That this will all be snatched away when Eli gets called up to play professionally. My insecurities continue to play on repeat as my stomach drops with the thought of what it will feel like when Eli does actually leave me, not just threaten it.

Chapter 63

Eli

I’m not surprised in the least when I open my eyes the next morning and find that the spot next to me in bed is empty. I fucked up yesterday, I really did, and I could sense how off Logan was afterward. Even though she tried to make me feel better and bring me peace when I was struggling, I could tell that I drained her.

My only real fear about being in a relationship with Logan is the possibility of adding anything negative to her life. She’s had it rough and deserves nothing but ease for once. After that day at the pond, I promised myself that I would stop with all the bullshit, that I would go above and beyond to make her feel special and taken care of. I can honestly say that up until yesterday, I’ve done just that. But with a few hateful words, I may have thrown everything down the drain.

As I lie in bed with my eyes glued to the ceiling, I replay our argument in my head for what feels like the hundredth time. Why the fuck would I speak to her that way? Why the fuck would I tell her to leave me alone? She’s the only person I ever want to be around. Why on earth would I ever threaten to break up with her? I would never, and could never break up with her. I love her. I need her. And I just planted doubts her in her head about whether or not I actually wanted to be with her. I’ve spent the last month trying to get her to trust me, and just like that, I may have broken it.

Even though Logan is tough on the outside, there are parts of her that are fragile on the inside.

I felt like absolute shit yesterday, but that’s still no excuse for saying the things I did. After playing like garbage at Penn State on Thursday, combined with the embarrassment I felt after needing to hear my girlfriend’s voice just to calm myself down, I felt the worst I have in a long time. So, in true Eli fashion, I decided to try to make the people around me feel as terrible as I did.

I spoke to Logan like she was my punching bag and would just bounce back after every hit I threw. Except, she surprised me by threatening not to come back at all if I continued. As much as I hated hearing those words leave her mouth, I needed them. They brought me back to reality and reminded me that she could leave at any moment. That she’s independent and doesn’t need me, but instead, she chooses me.

I was pretty embarrassed after my breakdown in the shower yesterday, but after my panic attack the night before, and the lack of sleep all week, I just couldn’t control my emotions.

Finally, after wallowing for long enough, I decide to peel my sorry ass out of bed, needing to go find my girl and hoping that she still is. I apologized countless times last night, but the words don’t mean much if I can’t prove them.

It’s early, and the house is dead silent. Marc and Ali must still be asleep, and Logan, I don’t know where she is. I’m hoping she didn’t feel the need to go find another bed after I fell asleep. It broke my heart when she came in to grab her bag and leave last night, not realizing that I wanted her with me. Of course, my selfish ass was blessed with a restful night of sleep because I had my girl by my side, but I don’t know if Logan got any rest after I drained her with my attitude.

Scanning the living room, I find the couches are empty. I make my way to the kitchen, but Logan is nowhere to be found. As I turn to head back upstairs to search the guest rooms, I spot Logan’s pretty red hair out in the distance through the back window.

She’s out on the edge of my parents’ dock, leaning on the railing, exactly where I was drinking away my sorrows yesterday. She has on a pair of cozy sweats and what looks to be one of my sweatshirts, judging by the number thirteen on the hood, and her ears are snugly tucked into a beanie. I would take her picture right now because she looks fucking perfect, standing in front of the scenic lake as the fog begins to lift, wearing my clothes, but I think I would always remember this picture as the morning after I threatened to break up with her. Maybe though, I need a reminder of how terrible I feel right now, so I decide to snap the image on my phone through the large glass window.

I snag a blanket from the couch after pouring a couple of cups of coffee, making sure to add a little creamer to Logan’s. I also made sure hers was extra hot because I’m sure that my California girl is freezing outside right now.

As I cautiously make my way down the dock to her, I catch Logan swiping a hand at her cheek with her back towards me.

Fuck.

I’ve made her cry twice before, but those were good tears. I can almost guarantee that these are not.

Sliding her mug of coffee in front of her, I leave it on the railing between her elbows. I kiss the back of her head while she keeps her gaze forward on the lake.

“Hi, baby,” I say in a cautious tone behind her.

“Hi,” she says without turning around. “Thank you,” she adds in reference to the coffee as she tries to stifle her sniffling. She wraps her bare hands tightly around her mug, confirming my suspicions that she’s freezing right now.

Unfolding the blanket in my hands, I wrap it tightly around her. Crossing my arms around the front of her shoulders, I pull her back into my chest.

A small wave of relief washes over me when I feel her melt into my touch.

I lean my forehead on the back of her beanie. “Thank you for taking care of me last night,” I tell her. “And the night before.”

She doesn’t use words but instead nods her head in acknowledgment as she tries to sneakily wipe away a fallen tear.

“Logan—”

“I’m fine. I’m just really tired,” she says, cutting me off.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” I tighten my arms and tilt my head around to look at her. Her nose and eyes are red from the lack of sleep and this morning’s tears.

Again, she doesn’t respond.

I sigh against her as my forehand falls to her shoulder. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, Logan, I really am. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking yesterday.”

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