Page 2 of Wrecked
I break away from my thoughts and look away from the window, eyes burning from my endless stare. Tears glide down my cheeks, imitating the rain against the glass. They’re not tears of sadness, though…they’re tears of relief.
I turn to my desk and rummage through the top drawer in search of a notebook, quiet so I don’t disturb her. She’s asleep in the next room, and I want to be gone before she wakes up. I find a pen in the coffee cup on top of my desk and settle into mychair, ready to empty my heart and soul onto this crisp white paper. These words will hurt more than heal, but they are words I have to say, regardless. I take a deep breath and prepare to tell the truth I’ve been hiding since I returned.
Dear Katie,
By the time you read this, you’ll already know that I am gone. I’m so sorry Katie-cat, I didn’t want to hurt you this way. You’re my big sister, and I will always love you. But I also need you to know the truth…
CHAPTER 1
ELLIE (PRESENT)
Yellowish gold ribbons stream down from the vivid blue sky as I watch the clouds drift leisurely overhead. I lie on my back, soaking in the warmth while praying to the sun gods for a nice even tan on my pasty, pale legs. So far, my fair skin is sporting a bright pink hue instead of the bronze tone that I’m after. I reach behind me and grab my bottle of sunscreen so that I don’t turn the shade of a lobster instead.
The muffled sound of my sister’s voice interrupts my state of semiconsciousness. I’ve been staring into the endless expanse of blue as Katie drones on about wedding preparations that I couldn’t care less about. I move my eyes back to her mouth, trying to concentrate on the words escaping her lips, but it sounds like I am listening to one of those adults speaking in a Charlie Brown movie.
We both flip over to lie on our stomachs, and I don’t miss the glistening of her eyes as we reposition on our lounge chairs. I instantly regret that I haven’t been paying attention and offering my support when she clearly needs it.
It’s not that I don’t love that my sister is happily planningher forever. It’s just that I don’t lovewhoshe is happily planning her forever with.
Nate Westin.
Ihatehim.
I repeat those words in my head like a silent prayer. A mantra, like if I say them enough, they will become my new reality. That assertion isn’t genuine though, it’s just what I tell myself to survive this piercing agony I live with every day.
Nate Westin. His name alone causes a profound ache deep in my chest. The man he’s become just makes me…sad. He’s shallow. He’s arrogant. He’s pretentious. And worst of all…he’s none of those things. It’s all just a role he plays, one that allows his fabricated charm to fool everyone around him.
So yeah, I hate him. I hate him because Ican’thate him.
Honestly, the most peeled back version of the truth is…I love him. I’ve loved him since I was sixteen years old, when we stupidly tied our souls together like a plea to fate. A plea that went unheard, despite the fact that I’ve never been able to move on.
Despite the fact that he broke me.
Six years later, he had the audacity to meet my older sister during their graduate program at Columbia. Katie attended a boarding school for gifted kids, so prior to grad school, their paths had never crossed. He didn’t even know she was my sister until six months ago, though I’m not confident it would have had any influence. He’s still with her, and I’m still breaking into pieces every time I see them together.
They had been together for less than two years when she brought him home, announcing their engagement and whirlwind romance. The moment our eyes connected, our brutal goodbye and the seven and a half years we’d been apart disappeared instantly. He looked at me with eyes full of the same longing reflected in mine. But mine also displayed the pain he carelessly caused me. He quickly masked his reaction, but it wasobvious he wasn’t any more immune to the pull that had always existed between us.
That memory alone makes it hard to remember that he belongs to Katie now.
For the last six months, he’s continued to torment me by simply existing. By invading my orbit, a space I swore I’d never let him in again. By loving my sister when I remember so clearly what it felt like to be loved by him. Ialsoremember what it felt like to be burned by him. I try to hold tight to that feeling so that I can cope with losing the man I love all over again.
This time to my sister.
Katie doesn’t even know about our past. The shame of it kept my secrets heavily guarded at sixteen. Now? What’s the point? She would tell me I need to let it go, that we were just kids and I need to move on. How can I explain that what we had transcended far beyond teenage lust? We weren’t two hormonal kids connected by shallow feelings and sexual attraction. Weneededeach other. I was his lifeline, and he was my protector. He used to look at me like I was his reason for breathing. Sometimes, I feel like he still does, but I know it’s all in my head. Wishful thinking, maybe. A wish I most certainlyshouldnotbe thinking. Which is why I try to avoid him as often as I can. It’s too hard to be around him and not remember what we meant to each other. What we shared within our own little private cocoon of happiness. The plans we made once we escaped the personal hell we were living.
Plans that never came to fruition.
So now, I suppress the betrayal I feel from him and substitute it with the genuine love I have for my sister. Katie doesn’t understand why it’s so grueling to be around him. I made up an excuse about his bad behavior in high school, and the explanation seemed to pacify her for a little while. Now, all she wants is for her two favorite people to “bond.” She claims he wants to getto know me, and regardless of the past, he sees me as a little sister.
I want to tell her that wasn’t always the case.
Deep down I know the truth, a truth he may never admit. He didn’twantto hurt me. I know this down to my core. I just don’t knowwhyhe did it. It doesn’t change the fact that hediddo it. I can’t forgive that, not without an explanation. In the meantime, I choose to ignore his overbearing presence. Even as he continues to insert himself into every corner of my life, acting as if he has a right to be there.
“…and I told her that just because she is my wedding planner doesn’t mean she knows what she is talking about. And itisabsolutely necessary for Mom and Chris to be seated at separate tables at the reception. So, she asked me if they’re divorced, and I said no, they’ve been married for twenty-eight years. She looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy.”
Ah. I’m finally hearing words again. This is good. Supportive sister here I come.
“Why are you putting Mom and Dad at separate tables?”
