Page 136 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

He expects me to be blindly loyal as well, but I’m not blind. I saw Fran at Dylan’s house. I heard Fran on his phone. If Dylan wants loyalty, it needs to be reciprocated. I’m done making excuses for his behavior. He’s going through some stuff, and I get that, but I’ve reached my limit. I’ve tried to be understanding. I’ve tried to be empathetic, but this is the final straw. His phone has been off for three weeks. Not once did he call me and apologize for not pitching up for our date. Not once did he call to tell me that something came up and he was going to tap out because he needed some time. That’s just common courtesy. I was courteous and sent him the video so he could see what I was up to, but I got nothing back.

I hear my phone buzzing beside me and when I look down; I see his name lighting up my screen. I’m dying to hear his voice. I want to know if he’s okay, but in the end, I just leave it to ring. I get another call five minutes later and another three minutes after that. He left me waiting for three weeks and now, whenhe’sready to talk, I’m just supposed to answer the phone like everything is fine. He can go to hell.

A message comes through.

Dylan:Hey

Dylan:I tried calling

My phone rings, and I don’t answer.

Dylan:I can see you’re reading my messages. Why aren’t you answering?

Another call.

Dylan:Please answer your phone.

Dylan:I really want to hear your voice.

Dylan:Bella please...

Another call.

Dylan:Please answer your phone.

I’m too close to breaking point. Instead of battling the inner conflict, I switch my phone off. I have a good mind to do that to him for three weeks, so he knows what it feels like.

“Isa,” my mother calls from inside, “come in and eat dinner.”

“I’m not hungry, mom,” I yell back.

The evening sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm yellow glow over the trees. The birds are tweeting and chirping a soulful melody. It all seems so peaceful and somewhat out of place because I’m raging inside. I don’t even know if I’m angry anymore. I’m just hurt.

Forty-five minutes later, I hear a car door closing in the distance. I look up to find Dylan’s Jeep parked outside my house, and he’s already making his way up the path to the porch.

He stops a few feet in front of me. “Hey.”

I look up at him but say nothing. I take in his disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes. At the edge of his sleeve, I see fresh scratches across his bicep. I know I won’t get an answer, so I don’t even bother asking why he looks the way he does. It’s tense, suffocatingly tense. And awkward, like we’re strangers kind of awkward.

“You switched your phone off,” he says with a flicker of a smile.

Not one word from me. I just keep scowling.

“And now you’re giving me the silent treatment. I deserve that. I know you’re mad. I’m sorry. There was some family drama that was...out of my control and?”

“Save it,” I cut in, sounding a lot calmer than I feel. “Unless you’re going to tell me exactly what happened, where you were, and who you were with, I don’t want to hear it.” I wait to see if he’ll tell me the truth, and I gotta hand it to him; he thinks about it long and hard, but then decides to not offer any information. I give him a stiff nod and stand up. “That’s what I thought. You can leave now.”

He grabs my wrist as I’m about to turn. “C’mon, don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad.” I slowly pull out of his grasp. “I’m...I’m done with this, Dylan. I told you I wouldn’t allow this to happen to me again. I’m not going to waste my time on guys who say one thing in words, then contradict it with their actions. You say you love me, but then you disappear for three weeks without even so much as a text to let me know that you’re not coming to pick me up.”

“There was a lot going on at?”

“Hold up. I’m still talking. You didn’t call meonce. I can handle you tapping out and going off the grid for a while. Even though I hate it, I can accept that there are certain things you don’t want to tell me, but the decent thing to do would be to call me up and say: Hey, I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of. I’m not going to see you for a few days.”

He tries to take my hand again and flinches when I take a step back. “I’m sorry...You’re right. I should’ve called, but there was...there was just a lot I had to deal with. I wasn’t thinking clearly...and my family needed to take priority...but that’s no excuse. I should’ve called. I just thought...I thought maybe you’d?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You thought I’d what? Understand? I don’t understand shit because you don’t tell me anything. Or maybe you’d thought I’d just sit around waiting for you, even though you gave me no indication of how long the wait would be. No, De Lorenzo, I didn’t wait for you. I’m done waiting for you because it’s a pointless exercise. I’ll keep waiting and you’ll keep hiding things from me. Fran is the one you trust with all your secrets. Go be with her.”

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