Page 66 of Unraveled

I’d diagnosed myself months ago. I just sucked at handling it.

“You want to tell us what we walked in on this morning?” Uncle Blake eventually started.

“And why Jet was here before the sun was up.” Mom narrowed her gaze.

I just rolled my eyes. She was already throwing punches. “You walked in on me after a nightmare, andJet was herebecause I needed him.”

“Your brother is right across the hall, Annie. He doesn’t need to see your boyfriend here when it’s practically still nighttime. I don’t want him to start to think it’s okay.”

“And it’s different from Tucker basically living here how?” I snapped back. “You saw how Izzy was without him, and you got over it. Now that you see what a wreckIam and some of the shitI’mdealing with, you want to just ignore whatIneed?”

“I just think it’s really convenient that as soon as I give Tucker permission to stay over, you think you need Jet to stay here, too.”

“Argh!” My fingers dug into the arms of the chair as I growled. “Do you freaking hear yourself? Like I’m exaggerating just to get my way? Like I’m suddenly this bad influence on my brother?”

“That’s not what I said, Annie.”

“It’s what you meant.”

“Okay, you both need to take a breath,” Uncle Blake cut in. “Jet being here is a separate issue. Which she has a point with, Bridge. If you’re going to allow Tucker–”

“I didn’twantto allow Tucker. I wasforcedto allow Tucker.”

Izzy stiffened beside me, and Uncle Blake stilled. “Even so,” he continued. “You saw the same thing I did up there. If Annie needs help–”

“Ofcourse, she needs help, Blake.”

“And that’s what we’re trying to do now, but we need information. Now, stop interrupting,” he ordered, and Mom snapped her mouth shut with a glare.

“Y’all done? Cuz I’m kind of over this now.” I moved to stand, and Izzy pushed down on my shoulder.

“Don’t deflect, sis. Please. Don’t be like I was.”

I winced, hating the reference. She was right.

I met their stares and took a deep breath, steeling everything I could inside. I was so close to breaking.

“Y’all want to know about the nightmares? What’s so bad that I wake up in that seizing, all-encompassing panic?” I watched Mom cringe like she already knew what was coming and zeroed in on her, my voice becoming cold and harsh. Detached.

“It’s called I have PTSD. Ever since that night. And while you lived, and I’m so relieved and thankful you lived, Mom, every terrifying second of it is like a reel in my head, playing through what happened when I came home last New Year’s. That night that you stuffed too many pills down your throat–whether you meant to or not–I don’t even fucking care at this point. Either way, you left me to find you collapsed on the kitchen floor covered in bloodand surrounded by thousands of shards of glass from the stove that shattered when you fell.

“The way my lungs twisted inside me as I gasped for breath, just trying to say your name to see if you were alive. How your pulse was barely there. How your blood covered my hands. How I was desperate to find where all of the blood was coming from because I knew it was too much. How I found the giant shard of glass sticking out from your ribs.

“How every minute of that terrifying torture could have been avoided if you had just paid more fucking attention to what medicine you were taking. Because you weren’t the only one terrified about Izzy taking off that night, but you were the only one of us that relied on fucking pills to try to get through it. You were the one who was too fuckingselfishto think about what it would do to us to lose you, too. To think what it would do to whichever one of us found you.

“And thankGodit was me. Because Izzy was already going through enough. Sheneededyou.Weneeded you, and you didn’t fucking care. Even since you’ve come back, it’s only been about whatyouwant and howyouthink things should be. It’s not fucking like that anymore. I don’tneedyou anymore.”

At some point I had stood, and the calm, cold voice I had started with had turned into angry screams. I found my fist clenched to my chest, tears streaming down my face.

Mom was crying, too, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

“I don’t fuckingneedyou!” I screamed again and crouched to rest on my heels, my face dropping into my hands. “I don’twantto need you,” I cried.

“Oh, baby,” Mom choked out, and when she reached for me, I broke, my body falling into deep, gut wrenching sobs.

Mom scooted from the couch to land on the floor in front of me, and she pulled me in. “My sweet, sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Her sobs broke with mine, and we sat there on the living room floor, clutching each other. My emotions in shambles. The tension finally cut. I felt it release, everything I’d been holding back unraveling around me.

Chapter 21

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