Page 88 of The Keeper
“You think…” he braces his head with his hands, “… you think I could ever…ever…believe you deserved anything like that?”
I’m shaking my head as he’s speaking, already trying to reassure him.
“Not now I don’t. But I was 15 when it started getting really bad. I was alone and had no one to talk to. I just had dad telling me how worthless I was. Blaming me for everything. Telling me you hated me and thought it was such a waste of time to see me when you came home.”
I blink back tears, trying to explain to the person who has always been there for me what the thought of losing him did to me.
“I was worried you’d agree with him, and then I’d becompletelyalone, because I wouldn’t even have the thought of you.”
Jeremy’s head drops back against the cabinet behind him and he stares at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts.
“I know that’s not true now,” I continue. “I had a really great therapist at the College Counseling Center, really. She helped me work through a lot, see how he abused and manipulated me to satisfy something inside of him that has nothing to do with me. But now, I have other things to work on.”
“Like what?”
I let out a small, humorless chuckle.
“Like actually believing I’m worth something. Knowing it’s true because I’ve had a conversation with a therapist, and believing it’s true deep in my very bones? Those are two separate things.” I clear my throat. “And I have a hard time opening up to people… to guys… and I want to be able to.”
When we connect eyes again, I know he sees it.
He can see that while, yes, most of this is going to be for me, some of it is for Mack.
“He’s in love with me,” I whisper, finally letting the tears stream down my face. “He’s in love with me and I don’t know if I’m even capable of loving someone back. And I don’t know how to fix it on my own.”
He wants to say something about Mack. Lessen his value to me, assure me I don’t need him. But he stops himself.
Instead, he does exactly what a big brother should.
“Whatever you need, Rach. I’m here.”
* * * * *
I can’t fall asleep when I try to that night, so I open the laptop my brother gifted me for my high school graduation and look up Mack’s Facebook page. I haven’t looked at it since the day I found out he was my coach, and when I go to it I see not much has changed. No status updates. No photos. Nothing.
But when I click on the box on the bottom right, I see a little green dot next to his name that lets me know he’s online.
I waver for a moment after opening up the tiny chat box, wondering what I’m doing. But ultimately I can’t help myself.
Me: Are you there?
The marker pops up letting me know he’s seen the message, and for a brief second the little bubbles glow on the screen to indicate he’s responding.
But then they disappear.
And the little green dot disappears too.
I sit blankly staring at the screen. He closed his computer or his app to ignore me. My heart drops.
But for some reason I don’t let that deter me, and I end up sending one message after another in rapid succession.
Me: I’m sorry.
Me: I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you time after time when you’ve done nothing to actually deserve it.
Me: You said you’re falling in love with me and I don’t even know if I can love someone back. But I’m not sure how to fix it.
Me: And I don’t know whether you think I’m worth the time it would take. To wait for me to figure out what’s broken in my mind and my heart.
