Page 63 of Running from Drac
Really stupid things… like fucking your best friend the night we broke up.
“If you need forgiveness, I forgive you, Eddie.”
“Yeah, please don’t say that. Just pretend you’re okay with it, even if you’re not.”
She laughs softly, but there’s sadness interwoven with it. “What’s going on with Wesley? Did you bail him out?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I can’t find out anything until Monday. They won’t let me on the visitation list until the twenty-four-hour hold clears, and weekend hours are a joke. He’s stuck in there until next week.”
“Fuck, that sucks.”
I rub my hands together, wringing them like I can twist the guilt out of my skin. There’s so much I want to say, but every word feels like another brick in the wall between us.
“Eddie, it’s okay. Seriously. Please stop beating yourself up over it. I forgive you. I still want to marry you. I told you before, there’s nothing you can say that will make me call off this wedding. This is just another bump for us. Marriages always start off rocky; we’re just working out some of the kinks before saying I do.”
God, she sounds so sure.Her fucking positivity is like an emotional drain plug, and I’m drowning in a sea of guilt, my own bitter tears creating waves of crushing sorrow. If she knew the full truth, she’d drown and hate me forever.
“I like your positivity,” I answer, doing my best to keep my voice steady and without my wavering emotion.
“Well, someone has to be positive. You sure as hell aren’t.”
“I’m just scared, Amber. I don’t want to lose you.”
She’s falls silent. The silence lasts so long that for a moment, I fear the call has dropped, and my nerves take over.
“I promise I won’t leave you, Eddie. Have faith in me. Have faith in us.”
I close my eyes and press the phone tighter to my ear, like that will help me believe it.
Because I want to.
God, I want to.
But I’m still lying.
And I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in before the whole thing comes crashing down around me.
“I’m gonna go,” I whisper, unable to hide my emotion. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, baby,” she says cheerfully, even though she still sounds worried. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Amber. Always will.”
The phone clicks, but the shame still lingers, strangling my throat, suffocating me under a mountain of my own grief. The truth is breathing down my neck. I can feel its pressure like a needle severing my spine. I may have come partially clean, but I still feel dirty. I could pray to a million preachers and beg to have my sins washed away, but no amount of holy water will cleanse this guilty conscience. Not when I feel the ending of us looming in the distance. I can feel it crawling… creeping… stalking me like I’m prey, ready to devour me whole.
And that shit terrifies me.
I just lost my best friend… I can’t lose my girl too.
Monday couldn’t come fast enough.
I haven’t stopped thinking about Wesley all weekend. Work hasn’t been able to distract me. Sleeping? What the hell is that? Hell, even food tastes like paper. Everything just seems off now. It’s almost like there’s a stone wedged between my ribs that I can’t quite cough up. Wesley’s my boy, and his absence is definitely felt. I’ve got the money to bail him out, but something tells me he won’t let me. Not this time. Not after how deep he spiraled.
Rich pulls up outside my house and honks his horn, so I grab my jacket to head out, but before I can make it off the porch, my dad steps into my path.
“You going to see Wesley?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
Rich gets out of the car and leans against the cherry-red exterior, arms crossed, watching everything play out.
