Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“I’m all cried out,” I reply tiredly. “Not a drop left.”
My tears for Jamie were expended before I walked out of the hospital. Every tear since has been laid at Dane’s doorstep, but I woke up this morning and couldn’t muster a single one.
Andrew leads me to the passenger side of his car and holds the door for me while I get in. As he walks around the front, I admire his strength—not from a physical perspective—but from an emotional one. Out of the three of us, Andrew ended up being the one who was best equipped to deal with the fallout.
Doesn’t mean he’s not pissed as hell at Dane, though. He’s cursed and vilified him relentlessly for the last three days. But he’s also told me that he thinks he’ll come around.
It’s a nice sentiment, but one I don’t share. I know Dane better than Andrew does. I know firsthand how deeply his issues with his father go. When Dane said he didn’t have it in him, he meant it and I believed him.
The drive back to my house is quiet. That’s the sign of a good friendship—when you don’t have to fill the void with useless conversation.
Besides… I really don’t have much to say. Quiet is very much what I want and need right now.
When we pull into my driveway, Andrew hesitates before turning off the ignition. “Do you want me to come in?”
I turn to give him a smile. “Actually… I do. There’s something I need to give you.”
“Okay,” he says as he turns the car off.
I lead him into the house. After dropping my purse to the floor and kicking off my black funeral heels, I walk into my bedroom. Andrew follows and when he steps inside, he lets out a long breath of surprise.
“What’s going on?” he says as he takes note of the four suitcases I have packed, along with several boxes that have been taped up and labeled.
I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my stomach. I want to be strong with my words, but they come out shaky. “I’m leaving.”
“On a vacation?” he asks dubiously, but by the packed boxes, he knows that’s not the right question.
Without comment, I walk to my dresser and pick up two large sealed envelopes and a smaller one. I turn back to him and hold the small envelope out to him. He looks at it like it’s a bomb getting ready to detonate.
I take one more step and thrust it into his hand. “That’s my letter of resignation from Caterva effective immediately.”
“Jesus fuck,” Andrew yells as he puts his hands on top of his head, the envelope crushed in his grip. “Av… no. This is not the answer.”
“It is,” I say quietly.
Andrew tosses the envelope on my bed and stomps up to me. His hands come to my shoulders, and he bends his face close to mine. “Talk to me, please. What do you need to figure out? Let me help you get through this.”
My head starts shaking in denial before he finishes talking. “There is no figuring it out.”
“I know he hurt you—”
“He shredded me, Andrew. He didn’t just hurt me or break my heart. He sliced me up from the inside out, and the pain is excruciating. I cannot be around him. I just can’t.”
“Then take a fucking sabbatical or something until you can get past this—”
“Andrew,” I say forcefully, and his mouth snaps shut. “I can’t get past it. There is no getting past this type of loss for me.”
“You’re acting rashly,” he argues, and yeah… he has a point there. But I know this is right. I can’t continue to be a part of Dane’s life at all. That means no friendship and no working relationship. Andrew sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. “How did this get so fucked up?”
I walk over and sit next to him, leaning over to put my head on his shoulder. The other two envelopes I need to give him are in my lap.
“There were so many risks we took.” My voice is thick with sorrow and regret. “We all knew the potential consequences. We all had our eyes wide open. And I honestly thought it would be okay, you know? I even foolishly thought to myself, ‘If worse came to worst and we didn’t work out, I could get past it.’ I mean, we’re best friends. We can get past anything, right?”
“I don’t know, Av,” Andrew returns softly as he puts an arm around me. “I’m not in your shoes.”
“I know you think I’ve been holed up in this house for three days mourning Jamie, but I haven’t. I mean, it was terrible and tragic, but I’ve been thinking. Just sitting and thinking and thinking some more until my head hurts. I’ve been through it a million times in my mind, and Andrew… trust me, I just can’t go back to being his friend and loving him like a friend. It would be too painful for me, seeing him day in and day out… loving him but it not being returned. It would crush my soul, and I’m not giving that up for anyone.”