Page 73 of Cream and Punishment
Who else was to blame?
The tears that had stung my throat prickled their way up to my eyes. To hide the incriminating sheen, I shoved another spoonful into my mouth.
“Oh, Dekker,” Annie whispered.
And it broke me.
The tears leaked out, narrowly dripping into my bowl before I could swipe them away. It was like the hurt from all the years compounded again, capitalizing on my already fragile state to breach my walls.
“If I’d been there,” I gulped, “if I’d have talked to him that day, gotten him a 302, maybe he wouldn’t—maybe he would’ve—”
I didn’t finish before Lex’s arms wrapped around me. My shoulders shook and, possibly for the first time in my life, I abandoned my ice cream.
“How long have you been carrying this?” Lex whispered, barely audible over my sniffles. “How long have you been punishing yourself?”
So long. Too long. And I hadn’t given myself the chance to realize I’d been doing it. Was it punishment? Perhaps. I deserved it, didn’t I? How could I dare to be happy and try to find love when Dominick would never get the chance?
Easy. I couldn’t.
The pain was a penance. The loneliness and blame was a penance.
But would it ever be enough?
“It was never your fault.” Lex pulled away enough to twist me to look at her, bowl balanced precariously in her lap. “And I know you won’t believe me about that, at least not now. But hopefully someday you will. In the meantime, do you think Dominick would want you to atone for his mistake? If you can’t see for yourself that you’re not culpable in this, can you at least let yourself try to be happy forhim?”
If Dominick were here now, I could already imagine the scolding I’d be getting. He wanted me and Lex to be happy. He always had. That’s why he’d pushed me to apply to culinary school, why he’d sacrificed so many of his nights helping us with homework. Because he’d wanted it for us so badly, pursuing it without him hurt even more.
“I don’t deserve it,” I whimpered, gracelessly wiping my eyes and nose.
“Who are we to choose what we do and don’t deserve?” Hattie piped up. At some point, she must’ve grabbed my bowl from my lap, since she now held two. “Take what you can get as long as you can get it and assume you deserve the best, because, honey, you do.”
“She’s right.” Kris waited until I met her eyes, offering a small smile. “You deserve happiness.”
I wasn’t convinced. Did I really deserve that? For so long, I’d kept myself from truly pursuing happiness that it was second nature at this point. Kissing Max was the closest I’d let myself get to chasing a happily ever after. And maybe that’s why it cut so deeply that he regretted it. In my eyes, he’d all but confirmed my fears that I wasn’t worthy of a happy ending.
But my friends thought I was. They’d been right about him not hating me in the first place, so maybe they were right about this, too.
Ironically enough, it was Max’s own words that came to mind.It’s easier when you’re the outsider looking in. Things look different when you’re too close to it all.
I was as close as it could get, constantly stuck inside my head. Some days it felt like I was a prisoner. Shackled to my brain while it ran away dragging me along the ground, often going four different places at the same time.
But my friends, people who genuinely cared and wanted the best for me, didn’t have the dust kicking up into their face. They could see things from a different perspective.
Maybe I didn’t deserve happiness. But maybe I did. Maybe I’d ruined my friendship with Max, and maybe I hadn’t. His text this morning hadn’t made it clear one way or the other.
Max: I need to apologize for last night. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it kills me to think how you might be feeling right now. I had to catch a red-eye to Miami, and I’ll be here for the next few days, but when I get back, I promise to explain everything and apologize properly.
His “explanation” could be anything from letting me down gently—after tossing me off the cliff in the first place—to apologizing for running out while putting the friend zone boundary firmly back in place, to breaking off the friendship altogether. Only time would tell, and I wasn’t looking forward to finding out.
Lex slugged my shoulder, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I’m giving Max the benefit of the doubt for now, but if he doesn’t have a good explanation, I’ll kick his trash.”
“And I’ll help,” Annie offered a little too eagerly.
“Regardless,” Kris cut in, “we’ll always love you, girl. If he’s really your friend, you two will work through this. Everything will be okay.”
I smiled, wobbly and wet, yet lighter than I’d felt all day. “I’m glad you all came. This was…cathartic.”
Sure, I still felt like curling up into a comatose ball, but it didn’t feel permanent anymore. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Hands reaching down to pull me out of the water, no matter whether I deserved to be there.
