Page 91 of Lost in the Current of You

I swallowed and turned my gaze to the quiet street, the street light glistening a dim glow on the sidewalk.

A moment passed before I answered. “I met him at the river before I even knew who he was. I was vulnerable and sad, and he knew how to cheer me up. It was like for the first time I didn’t feel as alone in the world, and it felt nice.”

I stared down the street in a daze as the memory played in my mind like a record track. Of our smiling faces and our laughter echoing across my mind. Pain shot through my chest before I shook my head out of the memory.

“But,” I shrugged. “I guess it wasn’t really true.”

Liam slid his gaze over to me, tracing over each feature of my face in my peripherals. “You’re in love with him,” he said, not as a question but a realisation he made by just looking at me.

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head in denial but knew deep down that I was. I mean, I knew I had been falling for him. That I was well on the way but I didn’t want to admit it after all that happened, knowing there was no us.

His smile was sad, and I hated myself more for putting it there. “I can tell. Because it’s how I looked when I knew I loved you, but you didn’t feel the same way.”

I clenched my teeth in hopes it would hold back the tears that suddenly blurred my vision, but after one slid down, the rest followed. I kept repeating over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” to Liam as I held my hands over my face, trying to hide or hold back my breakdown from him.

What the hell did I deserve to cry in front of him when this was all my fault?

I wiped my face of the tears and shook my head. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not,” Liam said softly before shrugging. “I mean, you could have done some things differently, but you’re not stupid for that.”

I looked at him, a crease between my brows. “Why are you being nice after I've hurt you so many times?”

His eyes softened. “Because I’m not going to knock you down more while you’re already hurting. Although I might feel betrayed and hurt and angry at you, it won’t fix it by confronting you. Not right now.”

A few tears trickle down my cheek as his words wash over me. I wished I could have loved him like he deserved because he would have been so good to me. He would have made me so happy. He would have never made me cry like this.

“You’re too good for this world, Liam.”

He reached for my hand, squeezing it in his. “So are you, Dakota.”

I smiled at him and squeezed his hand back before saying goodbye to him.

As soon as I headed back inside, the tears began to fall again, and I made my way straight to my room. The door closed behind me and I sank to the floor, curling my knees up to my chest while I wrapped my arms around them. I let myself cry and cry until there was physically nothing left in me.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night, my thoughts consumed by the what-ifs, what I should have done differently, and all the things I did or didn’t say.

The screwed-up thing was that I still had hope that he would come back and it would all be better.

I still hoped that he would love me the way I wanted him to.

37

I’d stayed in bed most of that next week, cocooned in the comfort of my blankets and the air conditioning on blast. My TV played random shows on Netflix but I wasn’t watching any of it. I couldn’t pay attention long enough to know what was happening. I’d start to try and watch, but five minutes in, I would zone out, my mind going a million miles an hour.

Why couldn’t he love me? Was I too needy? Did he not want me? Was he not attracted to me anymore? Did I do something to put him off? Was this one thing I said too much or not enough? Did I overshare with him? These were the questions replaying in my mind, along with overthinking everything I ever said to him, every conversation, every kiss, every time I was with him. It all echoed and bounced around, all too much to handle. But nothing I tried ever got my mind off it.

Maybe I had a thing for complications. Because I had thought I couldn’t love at all when I was with Liam. But with Reece, it seemed pretty effortless.

I had completely messed up my teenage years, and it just made me want to run away and hide while I licked my wounds.

Maybe I deserved that. Maybe this was his goal all along because of the way I treated his best friend. That thought had cut me deep, and I wrapped myself deeper into my pile of blankets.

Every morning, Dad had come in to check on me and deliver me meals after the first day I refused to come out. Every day he would ask if I was okay, and I would always reply with a simple ‘yeah’. I hated lying to him and pushing him away, but I just didn’t want to talk to anyone. My heart hurt too much, and I was so sick of crying. Every memory rocked through me and played like a record in my mind.

On day five, the house phone rang consistently, and I had to drag myself out of bed to answer it downstairs. Whoever it was was very persistent. On the third call, I answered with a groggy ‘hello?’.

“Dakota? What’s going on? Dad has called me worried about you locking yourself in your room and not coming out. I tried to call you, but it’s going straight to voicemail.” Nate’s voice filtered through the line and I slumped against the wall as I squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the tears forming.

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