Page 9 of What We Broke

I don’t move a muscle at his confession.

I don’t blink.

I don’t breathe.

I don’t break down.

Weneedhis job. And he knows that.

Things have been tight for a while, and this is pouring salt into a wound that is already so deep, I’m certain it will never heal.

He is never going to let it.

“We’ll be okay,” I lie. “You’ll find a new one.”

Of that I have no doubt, but will he be able to start a new job and not let this black cloud of heartache follow him around? The answer is very unlikely.

He wants to self-sabotage.

I am certain he wants to kill himself without ever having to pull the trigger.

The only problem is, I want to go with him.

Because holding him up and trying to find reasons for him to be happy and present is exhausting. It’s painful, and everything I try to sell him is a downright lie.

“Aren’t you sick of being mister positive?” he scoffs as he moves out of my hold and rises to his feet. “We’ll get through this,” he mimics. “You’ll find another one. We’re going to be okay.” His voice gets louder as he paces in front of me. “Aren’t you fucking sick of it? Aren’t you fucking sick of lying to us both?”

It’s like he opened up my brain and took every single one of my thoughts and gave them life. What he’s saying is exactly how I feel, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing, staying silent as I jump to my feet.

Surprising me, he walks wordlessly toward my parked car, and I follow him. When he reaches the passenger side door he just stands there, staring out into the distance.

“I can’t do this, Jesse.” This time his voice loses the hysteria, sounding so cold and more detached with every word that follows. “It’s been a year and I can’t go back—to the way it was before. I thought it would get easier, but I can’t do it.”

Walking up behind him, I fight the urge to wrap my arms around his waist and stand close enough for him to know I’m right here.

“I haven’t asked you to,” I counter. “Besides begging you to come home for the last six months, I haven’t asked a single thing of you.”

“Well, I can’t do that either.” He lets his head hang between his shoulders. “You know I can’t. I can’t be in that house with you. And Raine. And all the…”

All the memories.

All the plans.

All the things we wanted but no longer have.

“What are you asking of me, Leo? Are you really asking me to let you go?”

“Please,” he breathes out.

This time I run the risk and press my front to his back, needing him to feel the weight of me and hear every single word that’s about to leave my mouth.

“The only way I’ll ever let you go is if I’m six feet under.” I glide the tip of my nose down the length of his nape, enjoying the hitch in his breath and the way his body shivers against mine. “It’s till death do us part, baby. And we’re both still here.”

CHAPTERTWO

leo

My body aches.Everywhere.

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