Page 122 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

I hesitate. “Yeah.”

That makes her laugh. It’s not joy, though. More like amusement laced with bitterness. “You actually thought I came up here to kill myself?”

The way she says it makes my stomach turn. “I honestly didn’t know what to think.”

She shakes her head, finally turning to look up at me with shadowed, unreadable eyes. “I thought about it."

I blow out a breath.

"Climbing up there," she continues. "Throwing myself off so you could find me on the ground in the morning. Bleeding…" she trails off. "Broken."

She closes her eyes. "I wanted you to feel guilty about what you did."

WhatIdid?

My teeth grit as anger roils inside of me.

"But I changed my mind," she says softly. "And I decided I was gonna do something else. I was gonna…fuck up your bridge.”

“The fuck did you just say?” I ask, my fists balling up involuntarily. I heard her. Heard every word. And it makes me want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze.

“I wanted to mess with it,” she says. “I wanted to cause some damage. To get back at you.” She pauses to watch my reaction. “But I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

She turns away again, eyes locked on the metal skeleton of what is currently my life’s work. “I sat here thinking about it. I didn’t really have a plan, just the idea of what I would do. I guess I had concepts of a plan,” she jokes in monotone. “But I realized…I don’t wanna hurt you.”

She rests her chin on her knees. “That’s a first for me.”

I exhale slowly, my body still coiled tight.

She huffs out a laugh. “It’s crazy. That’s how I know I really love you. I’m not just obsessed with you. It’s not a game. It’s real. I can’t hurt you becauseIreally do love you.”

“What kind of twisted, fucked up logic is that?”

She closes her eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a twisted, fucked person.”

I sit down beside her, making sure I keep a little space between us. We both stare at the bridge in silence as the cold wind whips around us.

“I know I did too much,” she finally says.

I glance at her. She’s still in the same position, arms wrapped around her knees, hands locked together, nails digging into her skin. I wanna believe her, but I can’t take anything she says at face value.

That’s how we got here.

I’m about to speak when I notice her shoulders shaking. I think she’s laughing again until I look at her face.

She lifts her hands, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes like she’s trying to force the tears back inside.

“I’ve been fucked up for a long time,” she says, her voice cracking. “I just wanted somebody to love me. Somebody to belong to, who belongs to me. I need to know what that feels like.”

That pricks me right in my chest. To a lesser extent, I need the same thing.

“I’ve been through some shit,” she says sharply, punctuated by sniffles. “My first love abused me. Treated me like shit. Other people, all my life, called me a weirdo. Treated me like an outcast.” She blows out a shaky breath. “My father…”

My eyes narrow. “What about him?”

She locks her hands again. Digs into her skin. “He crossed lines no father should ever cross.”

I stare at her, unblinking, my pulse pounding in my ears. What she just said…if I’m understanding her right…I don’t know how to react to it. If I evenshouldreact, or if I should just listen. But it’s making me feel things I don’t wanna feel.

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