Page 44 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
I’d broken up with Greg. The person I’d thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I knew he’d been a jerk and he’d gone too far and he always cut me off and none of my friends liked him—but I’d loved him since I was a teenager. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
And not just him. I’d given up the life I’d planned on having. That mansion on the hill I’d always dreamed of living in. The person in my life who knew me better than anyone. I’d miss holding his hand. It was silly, but that’s almost always what brought me back to him after we broke up. His fingers interlocked with mine made me feel tethered in place.
All I’d wanted my entire life was to belong. In those moments, with Greg, I had.
You’re hard to love.
I was never going to forget those words. If anyone else had said it to me, it would have hurt. Having the person I’d thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with say it? It was like he’d harpooned my chest to the mast of a ship, where everyone could see me suffer.
Maybe they all agreed with him. They probably did. Look at Bennett. His entire life was upended because he was friends with me. He said I wasn’t hard to love, but that was so Bennett. His life would definitely be better if we’d never met.
Did I need to give up all my passions and dreams to find someone to be with forever? I had chosen my job and dogs over Greg in a million different ways, so maybe he was right.
I buried my face in the pillow to muffle my sobs. I thought I’d be marrying the man of my dreams, but instead he’d broken my heart. And instead of Bennett marrying the woman ofhisdreams, he was stuck with me.
Snot ran down my nose, and my breaths came in shuddered gasps. I curled into a ball, folding into myself, wishing I could disappear.
Why did life have to be so hard? Hurt so much?
The bed dipped down next to me, and a firm hand rested against my back. “Charlie,” Bennett said in a low, sleep-scratched voice.
“I’m… so… sorry… I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the words too hard to get through my hyperventilating breaths.
“Can you sit up?” Bennett helped me upright, my feet dangling off the bed, and he wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulder. I copied his deep breaths, grounded by the weight of his arm on me. I used to have panic attacks like this when I was little, right after Dad died. I knew how to spot one coming, do my deep breathing, not get sucked into its vortex.
Unless it snuck up on me. All the pain, the hurt, the emotions I’d held at bay all week, the tears, the explosion of my expectations … it was too much to hold at once.
“Breathe in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four,” Bennett said.
I tried to follow his lead, but my brain was frog-jumping lily pad to lily pad with scattered thoughts.
“Did you know that pigs don’t sweat?”I shook my head, and he pretended to rear back, surprised. “I thought everyone knew that. Wow. That’s why they roll around in mud to cool down. I always wanted a pig, but my mom was adamantly against it. Sheloved pigs in theory but didn’t want another dependent, even though I promised to take care of it.”
He was throwing me a lifeline, and even though it was slipping through my fingers, I was trying to grab a hold.
“Don’t worry, though. My pig-owning desires were short-lived. I don’t want one now. But did you know that a hippo’s sweat is red?”
I shook my head, and gripped his arm with trembling fingers.Focus on Ben.
“For the record, I never asked my mom to get me a hippo, but I wouldn’t have turned one down.” He continued to name more weird facts, then moving into fishing excursion stories. The pure stupidity of people on a boat finally managed to distract me enough to take my first deep breath in a long time.
A glance at the clock showed me that an hour had passed. An hour where I was in the depths of a panic attack, and Bennett’s soothing voice led me out of it. A life preserver in a dangerous storm yet again. This was becoming a pattern.
Number one on the list that makes you hard to love: being too needy.
“I’m going to grab you a drink,” he said, once he realized that my breathing was normal. He slowly pulled his arm away, and I tensed at the cool air that blew across my shoulders. I felt like I would float away with nothing to tether me here. He was back in less than a minute with a cold water bottle. I held it to my cheek and forehead, then behind my neck, before taking a sip from it.
“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“But it’s embarrassing I can’t handle my own emotions.” Another sickening thought hit me. “I swear this isn’t some ploy to make you prove you care for me.”
“Charlie. I know. You would never do that.” His jaw was tight, and he rocked it back and forth to relax it.
“But Greg …” I let my words trail off, unable to say it again.
“Greg is the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”
