Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I hit send on the last message to my mom. Before I can put my phone away, Renee's name pops up on my screen.
Renee: I can't go
I open up the text fully and read it again. She can't go? The only plans we have are for Christmas. My stomach turns into a knot. I don't know whether to be worried that something happened, or worried that she's changed her mind about me, or worried that some other thing happened that's about to completely blindside me. Maybe her family decided to celebrate this year, I don’t know.
Griffin: To Christmas? Everything okay?
She doesn't answer.
I run my fingers through my hair with frustration. I’m ruining this and I know it but all I want is for her to talk to me. But I think that’s the last thing she wants.
I get the feeling that it’s over. And I hate it.
Renee: Yeah, I can’t come because something came up. I’m sorry.
She responds an hour later.
Griffin: It’s all right. How are you doing?
Renee: I miss your smiles today too.
I stare at my phone feeling like there’s hope and like I need to stop pushing. I’ll just be here for her because I know she’s going through something. I just don’t know what. I can make her smile though.
For a moment I feel like it might be okay.
If only I knew what was coming.
Renee
I'm so disappointed in myself that the emotions won't stop hitting me. Every time I breathe through it, they just come back again. I'm not totally sure what feels worse. Disappointing Griffin or not being able to do a damn thing to really help my mother.
There’s only about two thousand dollars in that water jug at home. That won’t last her very long, and I’m not sure she’ll even accept it.
I tried to give it to her this morning, and she flat out refused.
I can barely think of anything else. Other than Griffin.
He’s too sweet and understanding, and somehow that makes it all worse. I feel like I’m using him, and I feel like he knows that. It’s awful. I stare at the bottle of wine, nearly empty now, and I know I should tell him that I can’t do this right now. It’s all me and not him. Tears burn my eyes. I don’t want to. Not for one second. But I can’t keep doing this to him and I can’t tell him what’s happening. My mother’s story is hers. Her pain is so fresh and fragile, and I don’t trust this town or anyone in it to help her get peace.
Even if she doesn’t get a happily ever after, she should at least have peace. I can help her get that. I have to.
I write out so many messages but I don’t send any.
I’m sick over it all and the one person I wish I could cry to, I just can’t. I can’t tell Mags and drag her down. Not when she’s so close to delivery and going through so much already. I’ve never felt like a weak person, but I have felt this helplessness before. So many times for the same reason, but this time feels heavier.
Maybe I don’t have to end it yet, but won’t that make me a worse person? Because I’m falling for him, and I think he’s falling for me and none of this will ever work. I know it. I know I’ll never be the person he deserves, not when I have to hide so much of who I am.
I think we should go back to pretending, because if this gets too real, I'm going to fall apart.
I type the message out, then delete it. Then I type it up again and send it.
I don't want to explain to him what's really going on. I don't want him to know that about my family and I don’t want to explain to him what my mother’s been through.
Part of getting my fresh start and putting my life back together was supposed to be that I got to leave the past behind. I didn't want to be the girl who wore it all on her sleeve. I know I could just say that I have to be with my mom for Christmas, but Griffin is the kind of person who will care. He'll want to know more about her. He'll ask questions.
And I might give him answers. I like him enough and want him enough to want to tell him the truth. A part of me is dying to tell him because I feel like somehow he’ll just know how to fix it. He seems to know how to fix that part of me deep down inside that’s been hollow and aching for so long. But what if I tell him and he sees just how broken I am?