Page 13 of Restitution
My dad telling me him and Nora will be home in the morning.
Chris asking if I’m alive yet.
And one from Jason, asking if I’m okay and saying he can’t face Kade yet. He’s sorry. He tells me that Giana had to take on an extra few hours at work and is due later tonight.
He apologises again.
Kade’s final message comes through.
My Person: I’m having withdrawals, Freckles. Want me to come to your house and nurse you back to health?
Me: No!
Me: I’m okay, just really tired. Me and Tylar are coming over later to go over plans with Ewan for the surprise studio he wants to build Luciella. We’re just going to stay over. I can come and see you once Ty is asleep? I need to talk to you.
My eyes water for the hundredth time, my throat tight as I type another message.
Me: I miss you.
My Person:Sure. I miss you too, Freckles.
I swallow more pain meds and force my legs to work so I can meet with Tylar. I wear a turtleneck and jeans, hiding all the evidence from last night. She asks if I’m okay, notes that I’m pale and tells me to get a good sleep when we’re done with Ewan.
Jason looks like Ewan.
I can barely look at him.
When I meet with Kade, he receives a clip of me and Jason, and everything falls apart.
He yells at me. He hates me. He says I’m dead to him. He leaves me.
He doesn’t answer me when I call or text, and when I try to call Jason, he declines.
Everything is just… slow, sore, an ache in my head as darkness drapes me. A bubble forms in my mind, and my chest is so heavy that I need it to end.
All of it just needs to end.
An hour later, the wind whips my hair around as I stand at the Erskine Bridge. I stare into the mist, the drop beneath me deadly but effective. All I need to do is step forward, and it all goes away.
Chris can’t get me, because I’ll be dead.
You’re fucking dead to me.
I’m dead to me too.
I’m not scared.
It’ll make it all stop.
I won’t be scared to go home.
I can be with my baby girl.
A car screeches behind me, but I keep my empty gaze forward. Each breath counts down to my last as my grip on the railing slowly lessens, but movement in my peripheral vision stops me from letting go.
“Please don’t do this,” Jason says, and I can see from a sideways glance that his face is burst open. Kade must have got him. “Don’t jump.”
I have nothing left. It’s all just pain and dark and a bunch of nothingness. I want to tell him this, but I can’t. I keep my eyes forward.
