There’s a knock on the door, and then Ben pushes it open. “Charlie, are you feeling better?”
“Not yet.” I sit up in bed. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. At least now we know.”
“You’re handling this better than I am.”
“I think I accepted it a long time ago.” There’s a pause, and Ben seems guilty about something. “Troy is here. He wants to talk to you.”
“No.” My voice comes out in a desperate plea. “I can’t talk to him right now, Ben. You know that.”
“A-are you going to break up?”
“I’d like to know that too.” Troy comes in after Ben, and I feel like my heart stops beating for a second.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“No, I had to, Charlie. I couldn’t just stay home because it’s killing me not knowing where we stand. So, I’ll ask you again. Are we breaking up?”
He pierces me with the saddest, most broken gaze I’ve ever seen on him, and it destroys me. I want to tell him that we can move past this, but I can’t form the words.
“I don’t think there’s any other way,” I reply through a choke.
Tears well up in my eyes. My heart squeezes so tight, I can’t breathe.
Troy remains stoic, frozen; the only glimpse of emotion I can see are in his anguished eyes. He clenches his jaw and then says tightly, “I’m not going to try to explain myself, or ask for your forgiveness. I know right now, nothing I say will make you feel better or change your mind. I’ll walk away and give you the space you need, but I’ll wait for you, Charlie. However long it takes, I will wait for you.”
“Troy—”
“No, don’t say anything. You can’t ask me to stop loving you. It won’t happen. You don’t need to move out. I’m going to stay with Andy until you’re ready for me to come home.”
I’m witnessing the boy I love with all my heart shatter in front of me, and I can’t bring myself to end his suffering. I’m frozen, powerless.
Troy turns to Ben and squeezes his shoulder. “Take care of your sister, buddy.”
He’s gone before I can get a word out.
It turns out, the song was right. We were meant to break.
47
CHARLIE
It’s been five days since I broke up with Troy, and I’m a complete wreck. Dad didn’t move out like I’d expected him to, but the situation at my folks’ is tense as hell. It’s gotten so bad that Tammara’s parents invited Ben to spend the week with them.
My heart is squeezed tight as I step foot into my house. Good on his word, Troy has moved out, and his absence is like a black hole in what used to be paradise to me.
Fred drove me—I couldn’t deal with Blake and his I-told-you-so stare. He sets my bags on the floor and asks, “Do you want me to bring your bed downstairs?”
“What’s the point? I still have to go to the second floor to shower and change clothes.”
“True.”
We don’t speak for a while, and the silence begins to smother me.
I sense his eyes burning a hole through my face. Without looking at him, I say, “Out with it already, Fred.”
“I know it’s not my place to mention it, but are you sure you can’t fix things with Troy? You look pitiful.”
“Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“I’m serious, Charlie. It’s not his fault that your dad is an ass—um, that he cheated.”
“I know, but it’s his fault for not telling me as soon as he found out.”
“Honestly, you can’t say you wouldn’t have kept your mouth shut as well if the situation had been reversed. You’re recovering from an accident.”
Fred’s words feel like a dagger twisting in my chest. He’s not wrong, but I can’t even think about Troy without remembering that horrible scene with his drunk mother, telling everyone about the affair.
“Can we please stop talking about Troy?”
“Okay. Well, what do you want to do?”
“I think I just want to be alone for now. Work on some school assignments.”
“Okay then. I’m off tomorrow if you want to hang out.”
I already know I won’t, but it will be easier to decline his offer tomorrow over a text message. If I say no now, he’s going to bug me until I agree to do something.
“Sounds good.”
As soon as Fred walks out the door, I’m swept under a wave of sorrow. My chest is too tight, and I can’t get air into my lungs. I try to watch TV, but quickly, I realize it won’t work. The only thing showing is Troy’s picture. The sanest thing would be to move out, if I had that option. Everything in this house reminds me of him.
I head to my room. Maybe if I surround myself with my things, it will help. But as soon as I reach the landing, my gaze travels down the corridor to his bedroom door. I move toward it, knowing that opening that door will only make things worse. But I’m a glutton for punishment.
My eyes zero on in his bed, and a choke gets lodged in my throat. I move toward it and then run my fingers over the mattress. My eyes burn as they fill with tears, and yet I don’t turn around to walk away. I lie down and bring his pillow to my nose. I’m drowning in his scent, in his presence, but I don’t care.
Can someone die of heartbreak? Because it feels like that’s what’s happening to me. The tears come through a loud choke, and quickly, they drench Troy’s pillow. I hold on to it and don’t fight the ugly cry that wrecks me to pieces.
I wake up, bleary-eyed, not knowing where I am for a moment. But Troy’s faint aftershave scent reaches my nose, reminding me that I slept on his bed last night. I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I feel weak, hollow, but not completely destroyed as I did yesterday. The sharp pain in my chest is still there, though.
Slowly, I get ready for another bleak day. Thanks to the cast, it takes me an hour to get to the kitchen and fix my caffeine deprivation problem. As I wait for it to brew, the tone of a text message draws my attention to my phone. I left it on the kitchen counter yesterday. I’m surprised the battery didn’t die.
The name that pops on my screen makes my stomach clench tight. Ophelia hopes I’m going to visit her today. She wants to talk. There’s no need to specify the topic. I’m tempted to blow her off, but she’s always been kind to me, and in all honesty, I’m in deep need of her advice.
I reply that I’ll be there, and then I text Fred. He offered to spend time with me, so that’s what we’re doing today. His answer comes swiftly. He’s a minute from my place. It seems he wasn’t going to let me blow him off today and was already en route to kidnap me.
Exactly a minute later, he’s knocking on my door. I hop toward it to be faster. I’m getting better with the crutches, but it’s still a pain to use them.
“Morning, sunshine,” he greets me with a broad smile.
“Why are you so cheerful? Isn’t it too early for you?”
“Yep, but I need to bring an extra dose of good vibes to counter your foul mood.”
“I haven’t had coffee yet.” I hop back to the kitchen.