AnguiSH (23 page)

             
We sat on the couch, and I could feel the distance she sat from me in my bones. 

             
“I’m leaving, Breaker.”

             
“Where are you going?  I’ll go with you.”  As soon as those two phrases escaped my mouth, I knew how foolish I sounded.  She wasn’t going to Burger King—idiot.

             
“I’ve gotten an apartment with Stephanie.  I move in tomorrow.  I didn’t tell you before because I knew you’d be able to talk me out of it—Lord knows I’ve changed my mind forty three times a day.”

             
I was crushed, “Why—just tell me why.”

             
“For us,” she said it so low that I barely heard her.

             
“You might want to explain that.”

             
She wrung her hands and picked the side of her thumb nail—more things she never did.

             
“Because we’ve become too attached.  I’m staying here all the time because I want to spend all this time with you.  And you need me to leave.”

             
She did not just pull that bullshit with me.

             
“I need you to leave?”

             
“Yeah, you do.” She’d straightened up and was now speaking in a tone that sounded practiced. “Because you’ve become too dependent on me.  You can go places, but only with me.  You can do anything you want, but only with me.  You’re not better, Breaker, you’re just…”

             
“Different,” I finished it for her.  I knew it already and had planned and failed at making a way to recover with her still there but apparently that wasn’t in the cards. “Are you leaving
me
?”

             
“No, God no.  Ugh—I had such a great speech outlined so that I said everything in the right way and you understood.  I conveyed all my points and still maintained the fact that I loved you.  I’m so pissed.”  She bounced closer to me on the couch and held my hands in hers, “I’m not leaving you, I’m just leaving this house so that you can have the space you need to heal—really heal for yourself.  And I need you to know the reason.  If you and I are gonna have a future together, and I want that more than anything—if we are, then you have to be well.  You have to live, Breaker.  This isn’t a life for either one of us.”             

             
“I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me.”

             
“All it would take would be one kiss from you and I’d forget the whole thing.  It has to be done this way.”

             
“When do you leave?”  A small part of me still begged for time to change her mind.

             
“First thing in the morning.”  I expected the panic attack, welcomed it even.  It would excuse me from feeling abandoned and betrayed.  But the one time I wished it upon myself, it never came.

             
I got up and started my déjà vuish trek up those wretched stairs.  If I hated the house I lived in before, I despised it now.

             
“Breaker!” She yelled at me.

             
I stopped but didn’t turn to look at her.  I just couldn’t. 

             
“The only thing this changes is distance Breaker.  I’m doing this because I love you and I want the best for you and your life.  I will always try to do what’s best for you—even if it hurts like Hell.  So whenever you get done—come find me.”

             
And then she walked out of the room and my prison—leaving me behind to fend for myself. 

             
I slammed the door behind me, piss beyond all recognition at myself.  What had I become?

             
That night I did some string cutting of my own.  I cancelled all of my social media accounts and deactivated my email accounts.  I would have to call Dr. Mavis the next day and see what else could be done.  I’d been a sitting duck for way too long.

             
Ash

              As I walked out to my car, I thought about the first time I’d come here.  I thought he was a jerk.  And other than the beautiful house and the compensation, I hadn’t really wanted the job because of his jerkassbastardardly ways. 

             
But now I could barely drag my lead legs down the sidewalk.  They didn’t want to leave any more than I did.  I’d packed up the few things I had left, last night while we were both in our respective rooms, me holding steady to my resolve.  He was hurt and I was hurting.  I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I left.  And though I wanted to use the steering wheel as my crying post, I had to put up a brave front for me and for him. 

             
I drove to my new apartment with Stephanie, paid for with a student loan.  My stomach turned with the knowledge that loans would be hanging over my head when I graduated, but I would have to hoe that row when I came to it.

             
I’d visited Mrs. Collins yesterday after emptying my bank account of everything she’d paid me.  I’d had to use some of the student loan money to make up for what I’d spent.  She didn’t even say a word.  She just took the check from me and put it in her perfect mahogany drawer as if I’d broken our secret contract and betrayed her.

             
I pulled up to the apartment and double checked the door number through the windshield before taking the stairs to my new living space.  I turned the key and entered the small living space.  I could see the shot-gun kitchen next to it, complete with a dining table for two.  I put my box on top of it and went to the bedroom to look around.  We were sharing a one bedroom since neither of us could afford much more.  Stephanie was spending most of the allowance her parents’ gave her on the rent and had gotten a part time job to help with groceries, electricity, and the water bill.

             
I must’ve gone up and down those stairs ten times before I had everything inside the tiny home. 

             
I hadn’t heard a peep from him since the night before.  And I didn’t expect to.  I was right.  I knew I was. Hell,
he
knew I was. But that didn’t mean my heart wasn’t put through the chipper. 

             
I hated to think he had to start over with his treatment.  But he needed to.  He was at square one.  Yes, he’d left his home, his prison as he called it.  But in reality, it was a co-dependency swap.  He’d swapped the emotional comfort of his home for the emotional comfort of my presence. And I had to admit—I’d let it go on for far too long. 

             
I made sure I didn’t tell him it was over.  It wasn’t over.  I still loved him.  And I’d told him in no uncertain terms that I loved him and that if he was willing to make the strides, he could come and get me whenever he was ready.  But he would have to come get me.  And I prayed he would. 

             
I unpacked most of my clothes, hanging most of it up and leaving the rest folded in my suitcase.  I made a list of the things we would need, which was everything.  Neither one of us had ever lived in an apartment, so we were starting from scratch.  I had a good bit of loan money in the bank, so I decided to go ahead and buy everything we needed—needed.

             
I loved Target—it was somewhere between Wal-Mart and Macy’s. I ran through the aisles, getting the bare minimum and trying not to flail through the aisles, crying like a remorseful teenager. 

             
I saw a cute little dresser and decided to get it for my folded clothing but couldn’t pick the box up.  I looked around only momentarily and before I knew it, a guy a little older than Breaker was hefting it into my basket for me.

             
“Thanks.” I answered—glad I actually wanted that one.

             
“You’re welcome,” he answered and his breath smelled like mint, Breaker always used cinnamon toothpaste.

             
I started to push my basket away when I heard his attempt to lengthen a conversation I had no intention of lengthening.

             
“You moving to a new place or just needed some new furniture.”

             
“I just moved to a new apartment.”  Please, please just let me go at that Mr. lifts things into shopping carts.

             
“Well, I could help you move your stuff in.  You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”  He did it anyway.  He was very handsome and had a great build but he was no Breaker James.

             
“No thank you.  My boyfriend will help me.”  I bold-faced lied to the polite man.

             
He nodded and backed away—nailed it.

             
I got groceries and checked out.  Two trips and an embarrassing crawl up the stairs, sliding the dresser in a box up the stairs, I sat in the empty living room, hungry and tired as all get out. 

             
Stephanie found me a few minutes later, A, B, C, and D pieces of shiny particle board and MDF surrounding me.  I held the tiny Allen wrench in my hand, crying like a girl whose prom dress was just ruined.

             
“What the hell happened?” She put down her own boxes and ran to hug me.

             
I didn’t say anything.  I didn’t have to.  She didn’t know the exact reason for my tears.  I would never tell her that Breaker would’ve probably had that damned dresser put together in thirty minutes and then would’ve placed my God forsaken orchid atop it.

             
And I missed the hell out of him.

             
She helped me finish the blasted dresser and we carried it into our tiny bedroom.  I filled it with my folded clothes, still sniffling the whole time. 

             
We had way too much fun blowing up our air mattresses, since neither of us could afford real beds.  We played our music way too loud while making dinner together.

             
“We ate spaghetti together.  I remembered the first time I made spaghetti for Breaker, it was a good memory.  And as I sat with my friend, I took an opportunity to breathe what felt like the air of freedom.  Because while Breaker had been in his cave, I’d been in there with him for far too long. 

             
He wasn’t the only one who’d become co-dependent.  He’d become unhealthily attached to my presence.  And I’d let him, so desperate for someone to need me.

             
I refused to be the first one to text him but had checked my phone constantly for one from him.  Tomorrow I would start my new job at a local housekeeping company.  The pay was crap but it was enough to make the bills. 

             
After cleaning up our mess, we both went to bed, exhausted from the moving.  I laid on my puff of air and realized how spoiled I’d become, just yesterday I slept in 1200 threat count sheets, under a down comforter.  And now I was back to my 200 thread count and an absence of his body next to me. 

             
“I swear to God Ash, if you don’t stop the sighing, I’m gonna make you and invisible Breaker sleep in the bathtub.”

             
I didn’t answer, just turned away from her and pulled the sheets over my mouth, continuing to sigh all I wanted. 

             
The next morning, I was different, like a cloud had been lifted from me.  I felt free.  I went to the LSU bookstore and for once was able to afford every single book I needed before the semester started. 

             
“So, what’s your policy on talking to guys who have previously been rude to you?” I knew who it was even though he’d spent most of our one date in almost complete silence.

             
“It depends,” I said, turning around to face him.

             
“On?”

             
“On whether or not you’re still gonna make my perfect cup of coffee.  If so, can we be friends?”