Page 161 of Deceit

Maddy is almost terrified of me now because I can’t and haven’t kept myself from snapping at her. I can’t hold in the violent need to break, burn, or smash something and I need help.

I need Emmy.

I was aware that she was the glue that kept me whole, and with her being gone, I’m falling at the wayside. I’m disintegrating and crumbling into nothing.

I can’t get over her.

I can’t get her out of my head and how soft her lips felt against mine.

How holding her was heaven and I never wanted to come out from the clouds. It was the most peace I have ever felt in my life, and I tossed her right into hell.

With me, she was safe. She may not have been given what she needed, but, as I’ve said, in time, I would have. I just needed that.

Time.

Now, it doesn’t matter. I can’t change it. I can’t harp on the fact that my girl will never know how much I loved her.

She’ll never know.

And if she does, she’s in the ground. She can’t talk back to me.

At Emmy’s funeral, Alexander wasnothis usual and pleasant self. I realize that we all handle grief differently, but that man wore a scowl that almost matched mine.

Marty clued me in that Mills, and he had an argument outside, but he didn’t know what for. I didn’t ask and seek the reason. Mills is probably losing his entire shit, too, because that was his best friend.

Meanwhile, I’m failing and murdering every relationship I’ve ever had.

I’m pushing everyone away.

Scarlett doesn’t try reasoning or consoling me anymore. It’s a lost cause. Nothing that leaves her lips will ever make this okay.

“Nothing right now,” Kyson conveys to my brother, giving him a pat on the back of his shoulder. “Just time.”

I scoff inwardly.

Time will do nothing but make it worse. I’ll recall how many years have passed and how each day fucking blows. That it’s just another increased measurement of not being with her.

That I neglected and should’ve fought harder to keep her where she belonged.

Hardy finally leaves the room, probably feeling the same sort of hopelessness of setting shit right. The door softly clicks behind him while I remain on the cold hardwoods with defeat tightly wrapped around me.

“You’re getting louder.” My best friend sits in front of me, crossing his legs Indian style, and pulls out a pack of Marlboros.

He’d know because he’s been babysitting me for the last two weeks. He won’t leave. I can’t convince him that I’m just grieving, and it’s temporary because it’s not.

I’ll live with this for the rest of my life.

I’ve had a funny feeling that his existence in my space is because my sister called him. Not only ratting me out but also worried about my not wanting to consume anything but another fifth of whiskey.

I don’t come home sometimes.

I’ve dropped every red flag there is to drop right in her lap, and it has gotten me the redhead in front of me now.

Kyson hands me over a cigarette then flicks his Zippo to light the end for me. “You wanna come with me tomorrow?”

“No.” I don’t even know what tomorrow is, but the answer is still no.

“Her kids are getting out of the hospital.” My eyes slice up to him while my stomach immediately drops into the depths of some hollowed-out place with no sustenances. “It’s time to say goodbye, Bish.”

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