Page 34 of Dare To Live

Eli

I wrap the sandwich up and put it back in the refrigerator. I’m not hungry, but it would be stupid to waste food. Topping up my glass, I move to the other room. She’s curled on one end of the couch, nibbling on a corner of the bread. I don’t have to look at her to know her eyes are following me as I cross the room and walk down the hallway, glass in one hand and bottle in the other.

I place the glass on the nightstand and flop down onto my bed, throwing a hand over my face.

How the fuck had we got to this point?

Let her think I’m an alcoholic. I don’t give a fuck.

The truth is, I rarely drink. I don’t like how it feels or the lack of control. But my choices are limited—either seek the numbness of alcohol or let her presence continue to rattle me.

Rattle me.

I snort. After ten years, she shouldn’t be able to get under my skin. Not like this. She made her choice when she walked away from me.

She said you were smothering her.

I roll onto my side. I wasn’t smothering her; I was protecting her. There was a risk that Evan would get away with everything he’d done.

The risk was low. There was too much evidence.

Like that mattered. A good lawyer could have spun it to look like he was the victim.

That’s not the real reason and you know it.

I twist again so I’m lying on my stomach.

You didn’t like how happy she always seemed to be around Miles and Garrett. That’s why you’re being so aggressive to her now. Just admit it.

Does it matter? She chose to leave. Chose to walk away. Chose to end our relationship. The one thing she didn’t choose was me.

And that’s what it comes down to.

I was never her choice.

You were both kids dealing with some seriously messed up shit. Do you really think either of you were going to react normally to anything after that? Processing everything you both went through was going to take years of therapy. And that’s not even touching the way you treated her to begin with.

I groan and bury my head into the pillow.

She still abandoned me.

She chose to heal.

She left me behind.

She needed to find her own strength.

She never came back once she did all that.

Didn’t she? She came to your dad’s funeral. What did you say to her, Eli?

I’d just lost my father. How did she expect me to react?

You reacted the same way when you opened the door to her here. What’s your excuse for that?

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

She nursed you, fed you, looked after you … have you thanked her?

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