Page 96 of Bad at Love

“You’re not a mess.”

“No, I really am.” He nods, his eyes going a little red. “I’ve been trying for so long to keep all this shit inside. To live my life and act like everything is okay, but it’s not. Nothing is okay.”

My manners tell me to tell him that everything is okay, but that’s crap. I hate when people give empty words, and so I won’t do it for him.

“I have to go into her house to check it out and probably clean it because I bet it’s way worse than anyone made it out to be, and I think I’ve known this the entire time, but I’ve been avoiding it.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says with a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t know. This house is… I hate it. I hated my childhood, hated that I never had a goddamn thing because we were poor, and I swore that when I got out of there, I’d never live that kind of life again. I’d never struggle, never go without. I’d always have food on the table and the most expensive things, and I did that for myself, but it’s like I’m being punished for it.”

“Punished how?”

He needs to talk, that much is clear, and I’m here to listen to him. I’ll listen to him for as long as he needs me to because he’s been there for me.

“Because just as things got really good for me, when I had everything I wanted, money flowing and work going great, my mother…” His brow pinches and he sighs. “She had a stroke.”Oh god…“And that’s not even the worst part.” He turns to me, eyes watery. “She’s been in a coma ever since. They say she won’t wake up. But I’m too much of a chicken shit to pull the plug on her.”

“Storm, no.” I put my hand on his thigh. This is a lot to take in, even for me, and I don’t know the women. Storm is hurting, I can see it in his eyes. How does he hide this all so well? I never would have known had he not said something…

“I’m a selfish prick who won’t let my mother have peace because she is the last person in the world that I have,” he chokes out. “She’s the only person who never abandoned me, and what did I do? I left her. I abandonedher. All because I wanted money and shiny things. I left her, and she had a stroke, and now I’ll n-never talk to her again. Hear her laugh or hear her tell me she loves me. Nothing.”

I’m not equipped to handle this sort of emotional conversation, but I do my best because it’s Storm. Even though we had an argument this morning, he deserves kindness. Especially when he’s hurting. I know him well enough to know he is a good person. He’s struggling with something and I can be there for him. I can do this.

“You’re not selfish, Storm. You’re human.”

“If I had just stayed—”

“Your happiness isn’t worth anyone else’s.”

He turns to me, frowning, a tear tracking down his cheek.

“If I had stayed…”

“You’d be miserable,” I add for him. “And all this could have still happened.”

“But I’d have been there with her.”

“Maybe so, but don’t you think she cared about your happiness? I don’t know your mother, but I can’t imagine her being like mine. You loved your mom.Loveher. You visit her every day. Moved across the country to be near her. She’d want you to be happy.”

“It’s not enough,” he argues, shaking his head.

“It is. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Storm. You never could have known this would happen.”

“Which is why I should have been here,” he growls, pressing his fist to his forehead.

“And waste your life in the process? How long would you be waiting around, unhappy for?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I take a breath before answering. “Look, I’m not going to change your mind about this. You feel how you feel, and your feelings are valid. I understand it, and can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same if I were in your shoes. But Storm, you can’t beat yourself up about this for the rest of your life. You are still here, and you still have a life to live.”

How funny it is to give him this advice when I’ve never followed it myself. Funny how easy it is to say when it’s for someone else.

Another tear falls from his eye, and he leans his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand falls on top of mine and he links our fingers.

“I’m sorry for this morning and for yesterday.”

“This isn’t about me. It’s not about us. It’s about you and your mom.”

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