Page 75 of Feel It All

I pull in my driveway and just the sight of Graham’s car in the driveway makes me want to cry. I sneak in my apartment, careful to not shut a door too loudly. I know he will be over later when I originally was supposed to be getting off. Until then, I plan on wallowing and drowning in my sorrows.

I drift off on the couch for about an hour and wake up to the sound of my door opening and closing. I turn slowly, already knowing who just walked in.

“Hey Win, you okay? I was going to see you at work, but I noticed your car was in the driveway.” His voice is soft and full of concern. If he only knew how poorly this conversation is about to go.

“Um, yeah. Listen, we need to talk,” I say as I sit up. Gosh, even moving hurts. My mental pain has turned physical.

“Winry, what’s wrong?” He takes the same seat on the couch as his mom had last night, and I feel like I am going to throw up.

“Graham, this isn’t working.” The words barely make it out before the tears roll down my face.

“What? What are you talking about?” Confusion mars his face. His gorgeous face that I love.

I wipe some tears and choke back the lump in my throat. “This. Us. It isn’t working.”

“Winry, this doesn’t make any sense. Yesterday…yesterday everything was good. What has happened in the last twenty-four hours that has made you think that this isn’t working?”

My heart is shattering, but I have to keep going. “I’m sorry, Graham. I just can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what anymore? Talk to me, what is really wrong? Because I’m not buying this bullshit.” He moves closer, reaching for me, so I stand up quickly taking a few steps away, tears streaming down my face.

“Please, just trust me, okay? This is for the best,” I choke out.

“No, that’s not a good enough answer. Try again.” He stares at me, waiting for an answer I can’t give him.

“Graham…” I shut my eyes trying to find the right words. “Please.”

“And I am what? Just supposed let you go, let you walk away from this? Winry, come on. I love you, please don’t do this.” He stands up and places his hands on my shoulder.

“I can’t do this, Graham, I just can’t. You deserve someone better, someone who isn’t broken.” I need this to end, I don’t think my heart can take much more.

“You are not broken. I refuse to let you talk about yourself like that,” he cups my face and wipes away some tears.

“You deserve someone your family likes and who can be what you need her to be. I’m not her, Graham.” I grab his wrists, pulling them down from my face, and take another step back.

“Winry, please. Don’t do this,” his voice cracks a little, and I have the need to be sick again.

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

“When you feel like telling me what really is going on, you know where to find me,” he turns around and slams the door on his way out.

My heart shatters into a million pieces.

When I can finally move again, each step feels like agony. I send a text to Wyla to come pick me up. I need to be anywhere but here, so I pack a bag for a few days. I just need three days, right? Three days of extreme pain, then it will be better. I hope.

Chapter 22

Graham

Thishasprobablybeenthe most miserable weekend of my entire life. I still can’t wrap my head around what happened. How the fuck did we go from fucking in the shower to breaking up? Something isn’t right, and I don’t know what happened or how to fix it.

She left shortly after and hasn’t been home all weekend. I am assuming she is either at Waverley’s or her parents’ house. I have grabbed my keys more than once to go find her and beg for her to come back to me, but I ultimately put them back down. I want to fight for this, but I don’t want to force her either. I just pray a few days to clear her head is what she needs.

I pull on my uniform and drive to the station. Tonight is going to be a long night, and I am dreading it. My head isn’t in the right space, and I have got to get it together quickly. But damn it, I miss her. All weekend I played our breakup over and over in my head, and I still don’t understand.

I find Owen inside the station talking to a couple of the other night shift officers. He spots me and waves me over.

“Wow, you look like shit,” Owen pats me on the back. “Are you feeling all right?”

---