Page 5 of Bitter Truths

“I—no. I don’t know.”

“No? Maybe, Griffin. Maybe you can.”

Clutching my head, I shake away the blaze. This is too big for me, but I don’t know how to make it be anything else.

“Do you think your mother loved you?”

I should have smothered you with a fucking pillow when you were born.

“No,” I rasp, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

“You said she broke you.”

“Did I?” I’m gasping now, panic squeezing my insides. I’m letting my filth show, and the knowledge pulls at my skin.

“Yes, your mother broke you. And when you found something beautiful, Griffin, what did you do?”

“I broke it.” And I did because I am the monster Mother made in her image, or did I create hers in mine?

“Well, Griffin? What do you think that means?”

“I’m just like her.”

“No. No, Griffin. No. You’re not your mother. You’re you.”

“But I broke her—H.”

“Yes, why?”

“So, I could keep her.” She’s all I ever wanted. Her.

“Because?”

“Because she was beautiful.” The most beautiful soul I ever met. How could I let that go? Even if it meant, keeping her was ruining it, ruining her? I just needed the beauty she saw in me. I just neededher.

“And so, Griffin, maybe your mother did too.”

Leaning back in the chair, I stare at him blankly. Am I more like Mother than I ever thought possible?

“You’re here now, Griffin. Why?”

“Because I can’t . . . breathe. I can’t . . . make it right.” I’ve thought of countless ways to bring Halsey back to me, but the fucked-up part is, none of them are what she deserves, only what I know how to give.

“If your mother could make it right. What would she do?”

“Die.”

“No, Griffin. No. Your Mother’s death can’t right the wrongs.” His eyes drop, but I don’t fucking care if he’s disappointed. I’m not here to make him feel better. This is my fucking truth, bitter as it is.

“Then what can?” I sigh.

“Learning from your mistakes. Being the person you want to be.”

“What if I can’t? What if I’m ruined?”

“Then reinvent yourself.”

“What? This isn’t a fucking movie. Mother hated me. She pushed and pulled until . . .”