Page 84 of Finding Their Place

“Do you want Wyatt?”

I remembered his kiss, his warmth wrapped around my back when we’d finished what he had started. The sense of belonging, being cherished and cared for, settling over my mind while drifting off to sleep in absolute peace of having found my place in life.

Fresh pain lanced through my heart at the memory of sitting up to find him gone without a goddamn word.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I did.”

“You didn’t text him to find out why he took a walk of shame?”

I swallowed against more tears. “No. He left us without a kiss goodbye or a text—it was like he’d gotten what he wanted from both of us and had no need to stick around.”

Same as Dad who’d had his fill of being a family man to a psychotic cunt of a wife and needy daughter who wouldn’t leave him alone in her desperation for affection.

“You’ve always been the aggressor, so text the man. I think you’re reading into this too damn much, Hal.”

My chest hurt to the point I couldn’t focus on much else than shielding from deep-seated wounds I thought I’d moved on from.

Mom’s lies and her bullshit crowded the back of my mind, taunting me toward the darkness I feared would land me into the psych ward alongside her.

I’d been weak letting Garrett burrow so deeply into my heart. I’d shared too much with him and Wyatt. I’d forgotten how easily people chose to look out for number one.

Anger, sweet righteous indignation, wrapped me up tight in her arms, protecting as the hours slid past—and I clung to the bitterness to keep my focus on taking the next breath. Ignoring the whispers in my head came easier with every passing hour.

I went into work at ten and stayed until closing. The hours moved in slow-motion, a never-ending river of shit—but I stubbornly sludged through the day without complaint. Gretchen the Toxic Twat was in bitch mode, and no display met her standards. Not a single fold of clothing I’d done turned out correct.

By the time my shift ended, I wanted to scrape my fingernails down her painted cheeks and gouge out her goddamn eyes. Scream in her face and tell her all the opinions I held bottled up inside my simmering guts.

But I walked out of Pieces with my shoulders back and chin lifted. I’d gotten through the day all on my own.

Neither Garrett nor Wyatt reached out to me.

Disappointment battled for attention in my brain, but I told myself I was thankful they didn’t call or text offering excuses. Reasons for their wrong decisions.

I remembered that form of manipulation from my emotional abuser as well.

I’m so sorry.

I promise I’ll do better.

Please forgive me.

Fucking bullshit, all meant to keep me close so she could do the same thing over and over again.

Well, I didn’t need anyone, and I clung to that truth like a raft in a tumultuous ocean even though I didn’t have stars to guide my way.

Since no one else had my back other than Lily, it was up to me to protect my heart. That meant no more letting my guard down. Period.

Being the aggressor sometimes meant looking out for me, myself, and I, like a goddamn Tasmanian devil—same as the other assholes walking the earth.

Crowning myself Badass Bitch with thick as fuck anger armor, I curled up on the couch to sleep since I refused to allow the scent of both men to haunt my dreams.

I would launder my sheets in the morning, keep my goddamn chin high, and finally prove to the world that Haley Foster could stand on her own two feet and find her own way through life. No more codependency, she would manage her depression like a boss.

And never become like the one who’d beaten her down.

28

Wyatt

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