Page 27 of Wrecked
“I…I can’t,” I say, pushing against his chest. He immediately backs away, letting me off the counter. The tent popping out from his sweatpants captures my attention and it’s almost enough to put mebackon that counter. I move to walk around him, but he grabs my hand lightly as I pass, pulling me to a stop.
“I’m asking you to get on that plane tomorrow, Pip,” he says quietly, watching the hallway for Katie. “If you can’t do it for you right now…do it for me.” My sharp intake of breath draws his eyes to mine. Hearing the words that once meant so much to him, the words that stitched our hearts and souls together for all time…I can’t help but do the wrong thing.
I nod my head.
CHAPTER 13
KATIE (PRESENT)
Iquietly close the door to my bedroom, sinking my painted toes into the plush grey carpet as I tiptoe toward the bathroom. The bright contrast of my nails against the dull shade of the hallway carpeting gives me pause. It’s as if I’ve suddenly become aware of all the monotonous hues that decorate the framework of my home. The white walls and muted grey flooring don’t portray my temperament. Looking at these walls now, I hate everything about them. White, plain, boring. I can’t help but gape over the fact that I’ve never bothered to repaint. It’s like a stranger has been living here.
Isn’t that what I’ve become? A stranger to myself, a woman I no longer recognize. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself, and I never bothered to findmeagain.
Somewhere along the way.
As if I can’t pinpoint the exact day and time I became a shadow of myself. I was supposed to heal by now. I was supposed to find the girl I used to know. The one with wild dreams and silly fantasies. Instead, I barricaded myself between white walls and grey carpets, tricking the masses into believing that I am actually happy.
I walk down the dark hallway, swallowed by the shadows that cloak my body and conceal my journey. Getting closer to the main foyer, I can hear Ellie and Nathan whispering in low tones. I can’t make out their words, but I can distinguish the intensity of their exchange. I feel my heart crack in half with the truth I deliberately try to escape. Lying to myself is easier than acknowledging that I’ve already lost him.
If I lose him, I know I’ll lose her too.
I’ve never had anyone stay. I’ve never had anyone put me first.
Except Ellie.
The only things I know are pain and betrayal. It’s almost fitting that my best friend is having some sort of secret exchange with Nathan right now.
I quietly open the bathroom door while stretching my neck in their direction, desperate to hear a fragment of their conversation. I squint into the darkness, but I’m only able to see the outline of my furniture, shadowed in black and grey splotches. It’s not lost on me that I am spying on my sister and fiancé in my own home. It’s also not lost on me that I feel theneedto spy on my sister and fiancé.
I feel the telltale sting in the back of my eyes, announcing the arrival of the inevitable tears I’ve been holding back for months. I won’t let them fall. Letting them fall means it’s time to walk away. As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m not ready to give Nathan up. Just paint my face white and give me a red wig, let me walk around in blissful ignorance dressed up as the clown I’ve become.
As pathetic as it is, walking away is so much harder than it seems. Nathan is unlike any man I’ve ever met before. He doesn’t try to control and manipulate me. He doesn’t threaten me with his fists or body. He cares for me in a way that feels safe. I’ve never had that before, that feeling of protection. Once you have, it’s so damn hard to let go of.
I turn back to the bathroom, deciding I’m no longer interested in hearing a conversation that will only hurt me. The scent of bleach assaults my nose, the chemical concoction a direct result of my stress-induced cleaning earlier in the day. I flick on the light and close the door behind me, unsure if the resounding click rings out and reaches the ears I need it to. I want them to know I am awake, and I don’t want to explore why that is.
I step over the bathtub ledge and sink down into the porcelain shelter, seating myself with my back along the wall. I lean back against the cold surface and bring my knees up to my chest, enclosing my arms around them. An unexpected sob rips through me, threatening to draw the attention of my houseguest. I take a deep breath and try to control my breathing, but my throat burns as I fight the emotions trying to claw their way out. My chest heaves as silent tears drip down my face and onto my pajama top, forming a wet spot on the thin material. I shiver from the biting chill the dampness produces, but do nothing to alleviate it. My cries remain silent, stealing my breath and forcing me to gasp in the air I’ve been denying my lungs. My chest aches from the force of my sobs, the raw pain filleting me alive.
I’ve been refusing myself this release, forcing back the storm raging inside of me. But it’s gained too much power to hold back any longer. Surrendering myself to these emotions feels like failure, it feels like acceptance. Acceptance of something I am not willing to recognize as the truth. As much as I’ve tried avoiding this breakdown, liberating my inflamed emotions feels almost cathartic.
My breathing slows down as the hysteria from moments ago begins to dissipate. My head falls back against the bathroom wall, and I close my swollen eyes. I wipe my damp face with my hands and spread my legs out in front of me.
That felt good.
I hear the guest room door open and close. Ellie is back in her room. Nathan, likely back on the couch…not in my bed.
I’ll take red flags I ignore for 700, Alex.
My eyes have finally adjusted to the darkness in the bathroom, and I find myself looking over at the “his and her” vanity sinks. Except, there is onlyhers. Her toothbrush. Her hairbrush. Her everything. Nothing of Nathan exists in my space. It never has, yet I’ve always let it be enough. I’ve ignored the reality of our relationship because I fell quickly into an ocean of dreams without coming up for air. I never wanted to see the truth.
Nathan is going to leave me.
I know it. I think I’vealwaysknown it. He’s never loved me the way I love him. He’s never pretended to either. I loved him enough for both of us and told myself that would be enough.
I fucking deserve better.
But I don’twantbetter. I wanthim. Isn’t that just pathetic? Wanting a man who has made it clear he doesn’t want you in return? Not in a malicious way. Nathan is a good person. He feeds a part of my soul that is desperate for the love and attention I’ve never gotten before. I just don’t feed his in return. It’s a sobering thought, but I am not naive to the fact that I am a Joey, chasing after my Dawson, in a world full of Pacey’s.
I just don’t want a Pacey.
