Page 103 of Beyond the Bright Lights

Pain, guilt, defeat.

He doesn’t believe in himself. He doesn’t believe he can get better to earn my forgiveness. He’s giving up, and if I don’t tell him now, I’ll lose him.

“When Tyler died, I’d have moments in my life where something great would happen and my first thought was to tell him. Then I remembered he was gone. I had a lot of those moments because Tyler was supposed to be my forever. He was supposed to be there for graduation. He was supposed to be there when I opened the bar that I’d been talking about opening since I understood alcohol claimed my parents’ lives.

“Now? Mylan, now that person is you. You are the one I want to tell these things to. You’re the one I want to experience once-in-a-lifetime spectacular moments with, because I love you.”

I hear a gasp to my right, probably Ginger.

Mylan wraps his fingers around my wrist to pull my hand away from his cheek. He drops it and takes a step back.

Shit.

It didn’t work. He’s shutting down. Building walls. It’s almost as if something clicked into place inside his head. As if my words triggered . . . something.

“I can never be Tyler Taylor.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “I’m . . . I’m not asking you to be.”

“I can never give you the love you had with him.”

“But I want your love.”

“You don’t deserve this. Me. You don’t deserve this disease.”

“Mylan, how can you—”

“I need to go.” He turns his head to Eloise. “Call my accountant. Have him send Lana the money for the sign and tell him to pay the car company for the damage.”

I step to Mylan and grab his arm. A flash of weakness crosses his face before he puts on a mask of defiance.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m letting you go.”

“Like hell you are.”

His clenched jaw loosens, his bottom lip shakes. “Lana, can’t you see? Can’t you see I’m in denial about my alcoholism and my addiction? You love me and I love you, but I realize now how much I rely on you. I drank because you weren’t there to stop me.”

“But I’m here now. I want to help. I want to support you. I’m here and I’ll stop you.”

“That’s not your responsibility. I should be able to stop myself.” He rubs his hands over his face, swaying slightly on his feet. “You are both my weakness and my strength. I do want to get better but in order for me to do that, I need a clean break because what I’m doing now . . . it’s not working. I have to do this on my own.”

“You don’t. We’re here for you.”

“Please,” he whispers. “If it doesn’t work this time . . . If I . . .”

He can’t say the words.

If I die.

I drop my hand and Mylan backs away slowly before turning around to head towards Ginger’s car.

“You’re wrong, Mylan Andrews. I do deserve you, disease and all. Don’t you think for one minute that you’re letting me go forever. I gave you my heart and you know how hard that was for me. So, it’s yours. It’ll be yours when you’re better. When you’re ready. Understand?”

He pauses at the passenger side door and nods, then he gets inside the car.

I watch as Bruno whispers to Ginger and she answers whatever he said with a hug and kiss on the cheek. With Bruno behind the wheel of Ginger's Camry, Mylan in the front seat, and Eloise in back, I watch as they drive away.

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