Page 60 of What Lies Within

He doesn’t understand.Nobody ever does.

I shrug. “I guess…” WhydoI hate myself so deeply? My ass hits the cushion as I collapse, searching the recesses of my mind for why the fuck I do this—over and over—even though I know it's wrong. "I want so damn bad to be perfect, to be flawless so people have no reason to be disappointed in me, that when I am flawed, I hate myself on their behalf. I get angry at myself for letting them down. For failing them." I frown, burying my face in my hands as Digger shifts to sit on his ass. "I feel like if I show that I hate myself for it first, they'll forgive me. Understand." I swallow hard and lift my face to look at them both. "When I haven’t acknowledged what I've done in the past before others pointed it out, I was called careless. Thoughtless. As though Ichoseto ignore my flaws."

“You self-sabotage your happiness,” Digger whispers. “You see that, right?”

I nod. “Because you do it too.”

He mimics my movement.

“Nobody thinks you’re careless,” Tyke says carefully, settling on the seat beside me. “Fuck. Nobody can blame you for being scared. For wanting reassurance. Safety,” he says, hands rubbing his knees as though he doesn’t know what to do with them. “You haven’t done a single selfish thing at all, Rae. Nothing.”

“Not even this?” I indicate to the three of us.

“You saying how we feel don’t matter?” Digger asks. “Because I hate to tell you, honey, but thethreeof us agreed to do this. Thethreeof us have vested interests in this working.” He thumps a loose fist to his chest. “You saying you’re being selfish makes it sound as though we don’t want a part in this. That youmadeus do it.”

“Whywouldyou want me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "After everything I've brought with me. The shit I've caused."

“You caused Terry to be a power-hungry asshole, did you?” Tyke lifts a brow.

Damn him.

“You cause my brother to use his niece as a bargaining chip?”

He’s too damn good at calling me out on my shit.

“You cause Connor to come from a family so fucked up that he goddamn stalks you to keep you safe from them?”

“I guess not,” I mutter, head down.

“Damn straight, you didn’t.” Tyke’s firm fingers find my chin, startling me a little as he forces me to look at him. “It’smyheart that chose you, baby girl. My heart that saw you and said, yeah, she’s the girl for me. You tellin’ me I’m a fool?”

Fuck.“No. I just… I don’t think you fully understand what you agreed to here.”

“Then tell us,” Digger pleads, arms slung around his bent knees. “Tell us what the fuck it is that you think has the power to scare us off.Us. And then get that shit off your conscience so you can be with Maddie without this bullshit guilt that has no reason to be.”

Fuck it.I didnotwant to cry again. What Idowant is a giant fucking rewind button so I can go back in time and smother my fucking mouth before I say any of this shit. So, I could shake the hell out of myself for spiralingyet again.

Every. Goddamn. Time.

I collapse against the back of the sofa with a sigh, the hem of the T-shirt between my fingers as I fidget with the fabric to deflect from just how much it damn hurts to admit all this. "Every month, I tell myself I'll be better," I say. "Every month, I think to myself, 'You know what? I've learned from it all thistime. Next time, I won't be so irrational. Moody. I'll catch the signs.' And every fucking month I do it. All. Over. Again."

“Do what?” Tyke asks.

Head back, I close my eyes and sigh. “You guys are old enough to know what PMS is, right?”

Digger chuckles. “Tyke would hit the road two days every month just to avoid it with the witch.”

“True,” his brother affirms. “Yeah, Rae. We know what that is.”

“You know what PMDD is, then?” I roll my head toward him and seek out his comforting gaze.

Even now, with the undivided attention of these men and the comfort they bring, my head screams at me that it's not enough, that I don't deserve it, that I drag everyone down, that I find no joy in life, that I have no purpose.

That I should just die.

I continue when neither of them speaks. “PMDD is PMS times ten.” A bitter laugh erupts from deep in my throat. “Fuck. Maybe one hundred, depending on the month.”

"Like more painful cramps and shit?" Digger asks.

---