Page 20 of You Met Me There

I can’t do this right now. I can’t. Not right now.

I turn and bolt back to my car.

Chapter 11

Natalie

Luke once told me he’d love me till the stars burned out. My mother told me she’d love me no matter what. My sister said I was her best friend forever and ever. But as I hyperventilate in my car once more, I wonder if they all lied.

Because if I can’t love myself after all the mistakes I’ve made, how could they?

As soon as I could procure an empty room at a local bed-and-breakfast, I slipped into my room and stood in the shower, the hot water fogging the mirror and running down my tearstained cheeks. I didn’t care that I still had my clothes on. I just needed to feel the weight of my mistakes slide off my skin. I stared down at the drain, willing the feeling of guilt to subside.

After a long time of standing still, I finally strip and wash my hair, scrubbing at my face a little too roughly. I want to be rid of the mascara lines running down my cheeks.

On the ruffled bedspread, I dig through my suitcase and slip into a pink two-piece pajama set with shorts and a button-down collared shirt. Luke got it for me on another one of our trips to check on a rental home. Somehow I’d forgotten to pack any clothes for sleeping. Luke, of course, said I didn’t need clothes for bed. He enjoyed my lack of packing skills our first night away—and I can’t say I minded either—but on the second night I wanted something comfortable to lounge in before bed.

Luke set up a bubble bath for me and told me he’d be back in an hour. The hotel we stayed at was beautiful, and the jacuzzi tub was glorious. I couldn’t wait to take a long, much-needed bath to relax my sore muscles after a long day of traveling.

When I got out of the tub, Luke was waiting by the bed with three sets of pajamas, each just as comfortable and cute as the last, although none of them looked the same at all. Each was unique, and they all matched my style and what I liked perfectly.

I shake my head and sigh, the thought of Luke’s thoughtfulness and care tugging at the back of my mind.

As if on cue, my phone pings. I turn down the fluffy white comforter on the bed and grab a mini shot of vodka from my purse before walking across the room to find my cell phone. Luke’s name lights up on the screen with a text message. I look down at it on the nightstand.

Luke: Did you make it to Maple Lake alright?

I climb on the bed and cross my legs under me, chewing my lower lip as I think of a response and sip on the strong bitter drink. It burns my throat, but I’ll be sleeping well tonight.

Me: Yes, I did. Thanks for checking.

Before sending it, the thought of calling him crosses my mind. I want to tell him about the panic attacks and the dreams. I want to hear his voice telling me everything will be okay, but I know that he can’t. Nothing seems okay right now.

I want to tell him that a stranger is living in my childhood home, that my parents moved away, that I know where Jules lives—that I saw her but got too scared to speak to her. But I told him we shouldn’t speak on the phone and that texting was all I could handle right now. Still, it sucks that I just want my best friend right now. And that’s him.

I add a little more to my text.

Me: Yes, I did. Thanks for checking. How are you feeling?

The rest of the vodka goes down like a waterfall of fire. The plastic clatters onto the bedside table, hitting two more empty bottles and knocking them to the floor.

Laying my phone aside, I climb into bed and turn off the lights. My mind calms as the darkness envelops me, and I sink into the downy mattress, the sheets and comforter soft against my flushed body. My wet hair lays fanned out on the pillow above my head, and the room spins in the dark.

Then the room lights up with another text notification. I grab it and turn on my side.

Luke: Like my heart’s been torn out.

I gasp at his response, covering my mouth. He doesn’t deserve this … does he? I never wanted to make him feel this way. I never thought I’d be the one to break his heart.

Me: I’m so sorry, Luke. I wish it wasn’t like this.

His response is immediate.

Luke: What if it was different? What if I could win you back?

Me: It’s not about winning or losing. That’s not the point. It never was.

Luke: Do you still love me?