Page 186 of Crazy for this Girl

“Start?”

“With your truths and my bullshit.”

“Lord…” She begins rubbing at her temples. “Why do I do this with you?”

“Because I think you love me, Laynee.”

“I despise you, Cal,” she moans, careful not to meet my unyielding stare. Because if she does, she’s fucked. “You’ve been driving me insane for years upon end.”

“You want me to start?”

She waves a hand in the air. “Knock yourself out…literally.”

I ease down the smirk that wants to present itself and get down to the serious shit. “Were you going to get married to that asshole your mom talked about?” I hear her sigh, readying herself for a long conversation that’s going to be hard but needed.

“Unfortunately, if he would’ve asked…depends.”

“On?”

“If a song came on that reminded me of you that day.” She pulls her fingers up to rub at one of her temples and then heaves her blues to mine. “You ruined a lot of days for me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

I mean that, but I don’t.

I wanted Laynee happy, but I wanted it to be with me.

“Well, you did.”

“I thought of you every day,” I confess evenly. “Almost every second. It was borderline unhealthy how much.”

Her features soften, and I watch her shoulder slump into a comfortable position. “How long were you there?”

“Almost four years.” I can feel my muscles begin to bunch at the change of conversation. The reality of what’s made me up and the dark realness of what’s lived in my head.

“And…when you got home?”

“My dad was already dead to my utter disappointment…” I hold on to Laynee’s blue eyes because I can feel a surge of anger sprint to the forefront of my mind. “Because not only did I think of seeing you again, but wrapping my hands around his throat.”

She gives me a weak grin and I love that she understands me. That it doesn’t bother her that my first thought was to choose violence than a civil conversation. “Eh, kept you out of prison. How did he die?”

“Massive heart attack, so too easy.”

“Did they tell he died when you were...overseas?”

“Yep. Didn’t want to come home and fake feeling sorry that he had.”

“Does that bother you?”

I shake my head. “No. He ruined my whole life. When I got back, I grabbed my shit from the house while Mom acted like she didn’t rat me out to him, and I haven’t seen her since. I paid off her debt that she racked up, sent her an email to fuck off, and that was it. I rented out a small studio apartment and just mindlessly wasted away there. I couldn’t go outside, every time…it was like I was back in Iraq. Every sound set me on edge, a car backfiring or someone unlocking their door to their cars. I’ve seen my brothers and sisters killed. I’ve been under gunfire more times than I care to count. I’ve seen children and mothers bloody and…” I take a deep breath, feeling my anxiety reach a high that I have a hard time containing. “I’ve seen one of my friend’s brains blown out by a sniper. Right next to me. It could’ve been me…”

“Cal…please, we don’t have to talk about this,” Laynee soothes quietly. “Unless you need to...I’m here for you always, but—”

“I wish you were there, but you couldn’t be. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I couldn’t bare the thought of you realizing that I was so fucked up, I couldn’t pull myself out of my own head. I was like a scared little dog, Laynee. I had my dad’s inheritance, and I lived on delivery orders and thoughts of suicide.”

“No,” Laynee whispers. “You—”

“I was suicidal, baby.” I meet her blues and hold them because with her in my sights, I can move forward. The words are tight in my throat, but I forge on because that’s what I was trained to do. It’s what I’d always do for her. “I had a 9mm...and before I even thought of pulling that trigger, I needed to talk to you one more time. I needed you, but I couldn’t have you. I fucked up. I knew you hated me. I came back for God knows what reason alive just to live in Hell again because you weren’t mine, and I stayed away from you so that you didn’t have to deal with me.”

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