Page 74 of Bitter Truths

With a rock in my stomach, I smile grimly and pull back out onto the road, ignoring the doom swirling around me. Despite everything, I can’t change my course. It’s too late for that now.

∞∞∞

Tonight’s the night of the Hathaways annual after-Thanksgiving party. This year, none of us are going, and I don’t know if it’s because my parents weren’t invited or they politely declined.

Instead, Max and I watch old movies on television and eat popcorn. It’s a weird space to be in because although I’m happy to an extent to have my brother back, there’s a void without Griffin here. He completed us, and now that he’s no longer a part of it, it’s like we’re no longer whole.

And despite our unspoken truce, I’m still hurt over Max’s machinations, and I don’t know how to get back that feeling we had before. I’m not sure he even deserves it. Still, if I want to move forward, I have to be willing to let it all go, and that includes Max and his fucking depravity, too.

After all, I’m not innocent when it comes to bad deeds. I refused to listen and went out of my way to hurt the people I care about. I’ll never understand Griffin’s actions, but I can see how hate and pain push you into a different version of yourself.

Glancing at Max, I confirm he’s thinking the same thing with the glum look on his face, and tapping his leg, I ask softly, “What if we invite him?”

Smiling painfully, he says, “He doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Maybe, but we won’t know if we don’t ask. But Max, I don’t want this to be hard for you because, you know . . .”

He shifts uncomfortably and looks away. “What about you? Have you forgiven him?”

“I think I have,” I whisper, looking at the screen blindly, “but I don’t know that it changes anything.”

“Why?” Max says, his voice dipping. “He’s everything, Hals, and he wants you.”

“Is it enough though? There’s too much between us, too many women, too many lies and cruel actions. I mean, even now he’s with Miranda, while he supposedly pines after me.”

Max makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “That’s Griffin. He doesn’t know how to feel all this shit, so instead, he buries it under sex and stupid chicks. He’s done it for years, Hals. It’s stupid, but every time I said something, you know, he fucked a chick.”

“You’re not helping,” I say dryly.

“No, you don’t get it. He’s taking out his pain the only way he knows how. It’s not about them. It’s about you. It always has been.”

“So, I should—what? Forgive,” I ask softly.

“Yes, Hals. You only get this once, right? Do you want to fuck it up over my stupid shit?”

“No, but I’m afraid. He hurt me, Max. Deeply. I don’t know how to come back from that if he does it again.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Hals. I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, and I nod, leaning my head on his leg and contemplating his words.

We’re all sorry, but where does it end? It can’t go on like this; it’s already eating at my soul. That’s what hate does. It turned Griff into an unfeeling monster. It created a cruel drug addict in Max. As for me, I don’t like who I’ve become, and I’m ready for the next phase of my life, whatever that entails.

Eventually, I doze as we watch the last of the movie, and when I wake, Max is gone, and the television flickers wildly in the darkness. It’s midnight, and I’m exhausted, but pathetically I check my messages to find no new notifications.

On a whim, I open social media and skip my own account to search out Griffin’s. We’re not friends, but his account is open, and I can see his pictures and world from the tiny screen.

There are posts from his games and pictures from last year with various bitches and parties. This year, it’s quieter, but I stop on a picture of him and Miranda from a few days ago and smile sadly, running my finger over his face and the grimness behind his eyes that his smile cannot hide.

He’s not happy, none of us are, but how do I get past the fact that he’s got his arms around her and I’m here, alone? I still feel like I’m the one being punished.

Closing out the phone with a sigh, I head to my room, collapse into bed, and curl into a ball. Images of the last time we were together roll through my brain. Everything with Griffin is explosive, and it brings to mind Dr. Marks’ words that reverberate through my head.

Am I a submissive? And if so, what does that mean?

Chapter Twenty-Two

You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.

HALSEY

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