Aubrey
She knows I'm here. Shit, I've been parked in her drive for the past fifteen minutes trying work up the courage to climb out of my car. Archer's not home, I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. Will be nice to have my moment alone with Annabelle but if Darci was telling the truth, wouldn't hurt having him there for some sort of moral support. Not that he'd ever go against Annabelle in front of me, but still.
I watch the curtain move again and know she'd be getting restless, waiting. I should have brought booze. Granted it’s only morning, but I could use a bit of Dutch courage right about now.
Taking one last deep breath, I blow it out on a loud exhale as I finally reach for the handle and throw my door open. Removing myself from the car, I steel my composure before moving towards the porch steps. I count my breaths as I walk, distracting myself from the excess adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Normally I'd just walk inside, make myself at home and throw my arms around her in a tight hug. Unfortunately, normal is no longer the case, and so I knock softly on the bright red door and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally, the door opens, and she stands watching me, arms braced across her chest, lips pursed, eyebrows raised. "Oh. It's you."
"Seriously?" I ask before I can stop the words.
"Excuse me?" she snaps, and I sigh loudly.
"I've been in my car for the last fifteen minutes, I saw you in the curtains, don't act shocked that I'm standing here," I argue, unable to let her dramatics reign control.
"Whatever," she rolls her eyes moving away from the door.
She leaves it open, which I take as a positive sign. She hasn't told me to fuck off, and that is one thing I grab hold of and won’t be letting go. Closing the door softly behind me, I follow her footsteps to the kitchen.
Pushing a beer towards me on entry, I fail miserably at hiding my smile. This is one of the many reasons Annabelle and I are best friends. Were best friends. Who gives a shit it's only ten am? Stressful situations call for alcohol.
She ruefully returns my smile before moving to sit on her kitchen counter, eyes trained on me. Taking the counter across from her, I mirror her position, and we sip the cold liquid for a few silent seconds before she speaks.
"Been in town, what? Going on two weeks and I'm just seeing you now, not the Aubrey I thought I knew," she stabs. "But then there's a whole heap of shit I thought I knew about my best friend when it turns out I knew nothing. Not a fucking thing," she spits, and I place my bottle beside my leg.
"If that’s what this is going to be, Annabelle, you throwing shit at me, I'll go right now. I'm here to talk to you, to explain, to answer your questions, to apologize," I speak quietly. "But if you're not willing to hear me and your sole goal is to hurt me with words, I should go," I test and wait patiently for her to decide.
"I'm angry," she whispers, her brown eyes cast down at her feet.
"I get that," I concede, moving to retrieve my beer. "I guess I should start from the beginning."
"Most stories tend to unfold from there," she speaks around her own beer, eyes peeking over the neck of her bottle.
I start from the very beginning, Dad introducing me and David, me figuring I'd do right by my dad and stick with someone like-minded, someone he would approve of. Her eyes turn sympathetic and angry as I explain mine and David's relationship. The condescension. The loneliness. The disapproval. The insults. Like with Darci, I keep David’s threats hidden. It seems too easy using that as an excuse for my behavior. I deserve her anger, her judgment. David may have blackmailed me to stay, but I’m the one that pulled Jake into the tangled mess of my life. I kept pulling him back, over and over again, knowing that I couldn’t give him what he needed, what he deserved. He gave me his heart and I greedily took it, all of it, all the while lying about his ownership of mine. I should’ve been a better person, a stronger person. But I wasn’t and my weakness at needing Jake to bring something good to my life broke him. Unfortunately for me, Annabelle’s hate is more than I deserve.
"He'd go through periods of nice and I'd question the negative. Convince myself for a while that he was stressed, or I was exaggerating his poor qualities, but then it would start again, and I'd be swallowed by the numbness. It was a fucked-up cycle that just kept getting worse and worse. I finally started to pull away when I saw the breakdown of you and Archer and I watched the pain you were in," I admit, watching her eyes turn sad at the memory. "I realized that never would I feel that way if David left me. Shit, Annabelle, if David left me all I could muster inside was that I'd feel relief, but also worry that I'd disappoint my dad. But after seeing you, I was envious of the love you and Archer had. I couldn't even begin to imagine how deep you must have felt. I do now," I confess and her eyes sharpen at my obvious mention of Jake.
I tell her about removing myself from it all some nights, going out, drinking heavily and forgetting, even for just a few hours, how much I hated that life I'd created for myself.
"Were there others?" she questions, her voice cracking at the question.
I smile sadly. "It hurts that you have to even ask that, but I guess I deserve it. No, never even crossed my mind. Not until Jake anyway," I respond.
I talk about the night in Arlington and how connected I felt to Jake. How kind and caring and honest he was. How for the first time in so many years he made me feel good about being me. That I was special and that someone as amazing as Jake could love me, flaws and all.
“Were you sleeping with them both at the same time? David and Jake?”
“No,” I answer immediately, my head shaking in my need for her to believe me. “From that first moment with Jake, well before if I’m being honest, David and I didn’t…” I sigh, pausing to meet her eyes. “David and I hadn’t touched in months prior. After that first night with Jake, there was no way I could’ve let that happen.”
She nods and my eyes close over in relief. I needed her to believe that. If I have any chance of her forgiving me, she needs to know from the moment Jake and I stumbled over the line of morality, I was his, in every way, it was just my own senseless fears wouldn’t let myself surrender to it.
"No secret I've always found him attractive," I murmur and she accepts this with a small nod of her head, hair falling from the mass tied on top of her head. "God, that night, the booze, the connection I felt… we felt," I correct myself. "It was unlike anything I've ever felt. Even if I tried I couldn't have stopped myself, it felt too… right. Which, I know, even to me sounds… fucking ridiculous, but it did."
I talk through our contact from there. The phone calls, the texts, the constant hijacking of my brain when it came to Jake. The moments we gave into and the moments that caused hurt. I tell her it all right up until the bar, Jake singing to me, our encounter and Archer's interference. I cry when I recall Jake's last words, the hurt in his face and I see tears pool in her own eyes.
"I spent an hour in the bathroom, crying like a lunatic and I'm so thankful for Archer in that moment because I know he must have spun some story to stop you or Darci looking for me. I don't know what I would have said or done. Maybe it would have worked out better, Jake wouldn't have unraveled in front of the entire town and… God, I don't know. I tried to leave after finally pulling myself together."
"But I wouldn't let you," Annabelle concludes, and I bite my bottom lip, not bothering to answer. I finish my story, recounting mine and David's argument at Mom's and leaving for Bellingham the same night.
"Even then I couldn't help but compare David to Archer. Shit, Archer found out you still spoke to Max on occasion, and he lost his fucking mind. David finds out I'd slept with someone else and he was only concerned with how it made him look. Of how I'd embarrassed him."
Annabelle's eyes flick between sympathy and anger. Her emotions warring with one another as to how to feel about my story.
I recall David's decision about getting married and my fight with Jake, refusing to meet Annabelle's eyes throughout the entire spiel. Not feeling much like being on the receiving end of her disapproval and animosity of my actions towards Jake. I have enough hate inside of myself at treating Jake the way I did, without needing hers to add to the weight.
"After Jake left I packed my things and left. I stayed with Dad for a bit, then did some traveling with him for the past few months trying to sort my head out. I worked through a lot and realized it was finally time to come and make it right. Try to, anyway," I finish, taking the last sip of my beer as I watch her process my words.
I take in her features as her eyes scan my face. Her eyes shine a lot brighter these days now things have been fixed with Archer. A slight rose dusts her cheeks from the alcohol and even dressed in leggings and a light shirt she looks good. Effortless. Life is good for her with Archer and this knowledge fills me with happiness.
"Life's good for you," I state my observation, and she nods her head yes.
Clearing her throat, she pulls a foot onto the counter, resting her chin on her knee. "Archer and I are good. We're happy. Work is good, for both of us. But I worry for Jake, and we feel less connected now that a lie was built between us. I've also lost my best friend, which really fucking sucks," she counters my words, and I sigh.
"I never wanted to come between you and Jake but in all honesty, Annabelle, there are gonna be things in life that Jake won't share with you. Like you with Archer, when Jake falls in love, gets married, has kids," I speak around the lump forming in my throat. "There'll be things you won't be privy to. You, as his closest friend, have to accept that."
She watches my lips as I speak as if visually receiving the words will help them sink in better.
"And you haven't lost your best friend. I'm sitting right here asking you to forgive me for hurting you. For hurting Jake," I add, and her eyes flick up to mine immediately. "I'm so sorry, Annabelle," I cry, tears once again falling from my eyes. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for hurting you with my lies. And I'm so fucking sorry for causing Jake any pain. I love him and I'm gonna try, with everything I have inside of me, to make it right. I love him so fucking much and I love you and the last few months have been so hard without being able to contact you, knowing how mad you are at me."
Annabelle's chin wobbles with an obvious effort not to cry, her large brown eyes wet with the tears filling them as she stutters through her breathing. "I'm happy you've come to make it right with Jake, and I hope that you two fix whatever’s been broken, really, I do. But…" she blows out a breath to steady herself before continuing. "But I can't be that person for you anymore, Aubrey. I'm sorry but I don't think I can find it within myself to forgive you. I have so much anger inside of me because of you, and I don't know how to let it go. You lied to me, you continued to lie to me for months and months. You broke a trust that I thought, with our friendship, was rock solid. But more than that you hurt and have continued to cause pain to the best person I know. You took the sweetest, most loyal, most caring man and made him someone that he hated. You took everything he had to offer and discarded it like trash. Jake only wanted to love you and you made him do that. By being you, you made him fall in love with you and I can't hate you for that, because, shit, Aubrey, I love you too. But I don't like you anymore. I don't even think I know you anymore. I can't be friends with someone who so easily deceives others they care about. I can't be friends with someone who puts their own needs above the people they love. I'm sorry, but I don't want to know you anymore," she finishes on a whisper and to stop the sob breaking from my lips, I cover my mouth with my hand.
I stare at the tiles in her kitchen until my sobs subside before moving. Dropping down from the counter I meet her eyes once more and hers no doubt look like mine. Red-rimmed, bloodshot and sad.
My best friend just broke up with me, and I'm struggling to comprehend how to move on from that.
"I understand you don't want me in your life anymore and originally I had this plan in my head that I'd only go to Jake and beg for a second chance when the people he loved the most had forgiven me. But I can't do that. I'm sorry you don't want me in your life, Annabelle, it's probably the second hardest thing I've ever had to stomach, after losing Jake. But you need to know, with or without your friendship I plan to right things with Jake. No matter how long it takes, or how hard it is, I plan to see it through. I want my happy ever after with Jake and I want to give him his. I hope you have it in you to respect that and not cause him any reason to doubt his feelings for me, because if you do, I love you, but we'll have problems," I warn, giving her one last look before walking from her kitchen and leaving her sitting chin to knee on her counter.
"Red," Archer startles me from his place in the lounge.
Holding my hand to my chest, I force out a breath. "Shit, Archer. I didn't see you there."
"Didn't want to interrupt," he responds, moving in closer. "Just gotta give her time, Red. That’s the first time she's been able to focus her anger on you. Time will settle it." He holds my shoulder, staring into my eyes, willing me to accept his words.
My shoulders sag as I nod in understanding. "Small victories, eh? At least I have one more Dean on my side than I did yesterday." I smile gratefully at him, and he shakes his head.
"Had me yesterday too. I want the kid to be happy, and I reckon you're that person for him. Aubrey," he sighs, "I get where you're at, Lord knows how many times I've fucked up over the years. Almost cost me my life," he speaks to me, but his eyes move in the direction of the kitchen, to Annabelle. "The people that love you deeply, they'll come back. You just gotta show them you're willin' to fight, as soon as they see that, they know you're worth the risk. Don't disappear, be around," he instructs, and I whisper my thanks.
Squeezing my shoulder before letting go he lifts his chin in goodbye before rounding towards the kitchen. I walk from the house, jogging down the front steps, wanting to get away from Annabelle's hurtful words. In my haste to get to my car, eyes downcast searching for my keys, I don't see Jake's car next door. More so, him leaning against it, staring icy blue daggers my way.
"Aubrey," he calls out and his voice cracks on the word as though it hurts him to speak it aloud. My head shoots up at his voice, and I stumble forward using the hood of my car to stabilize myself.
"Jake… I…" I choke out and he moves from his casual lean to his full height, eyes scanning over me quickly.
"You've been in town for nearly two weeks and worked your best to avoid me," he accuses, and I close my eyes in defeat. Of course he knows I'm here, if Annabelle knew, of course he knew.
"Jake…" I start, moving towards him but he holds up his hand in a gesture to stop me.
"No. I get it, loud and fucking crystal clear, Aubrey. We're done. You want nothing to do with me, you don't need to do your damnedest to remain invisible. We're adults, while you're here before you head back home, we can co-exist in the same town without having to interact," he finishes, moving to open his car door.
"J-Baby, no, it's not…." but my words are lost. Folding into his car, Jake slams the door shut and pulls out of Janie's driveway on screeching wheels. I watch his car disappear from the street and fall against my car in failure. Not only did I just lose my best friend, Jake's now issued a warning of no contact.
Fuck me.
I knew this wasn't going to be easy. I knew that on both accounts I'd have a fight on my hands. I didn't think I'd be sucker-punched by both on the same day. Inventory check shows I may have lost one fight. For now. I can work on that over time. Chip away at Annabelle until she accepts me back into her life. But now my focus has to be on Jake. On fixing what's broken there.
**
Archer
I lean against the frame of the kitchen, eyes on Belle's back. Her posture is tight, shoulders bunched in tension, head dropped.
"Feel better?" I ask, sarcasm lacing my tone and she whirls on me, eyes angry.
"Seriously? I just lost my best friend, of course I don't feel fucking better," she snaps, arms crossing over her chest, rubbing along her arms, providing herself the comfort that I should be giving.
Letting out a long breath I move towards her, pulling her into my chest and her sobs hit me instantly. "Baby, hate to be the one to point this out but Aubrey came here with the intention of fixing whatever's been broken between you. You made the decision to cut her off, not her, you," I inform her cautiously.
She pulls her head back slightly, and my chest tightens at the sadness in her big brown eyes. "You think this is all my fault?" she stutters, hurt by my perceived accusation.
"Not what I said, Belle, this mess is Jake and Aubrey's. I get that you're hurt for Jake, but you're also takin' it personally when it’s got nothing to do with you.”
She takes a breath to cut me off, but I give a slight shake of my head telling her to let me finish. "You need to stop attributing blame, Jake's just as much part of this as Red is. He continued going back when he knew she had a man. They both messed up and that's on them to fix. Now Aubrey's finally coming to her senses and tryin' to fix shit and you were a bitch. You don't wanna know her anymore?" I say, eyes narrowed on her. "Belle, baby, if that were true, you wouldn’a let her in the house. You wouldn’a listened to what she had to say. You wanted to hurt her, and that's not you. Baby, you're sweet, yeah, you throw attitude, and that would have been acceptable but being nasty to hurt someone's feelings... Nah, that's not my wife."
"I'm angry, Archer and you can tell me this has nothing to do with me but I now have a giant rift in my life. Jake and I aren't as close anymore, Aubrey deceived me. I feel that they made a decision that has had a negative effect on my life. I'm allowed to be mad about that," she explains, using her weight to pull from my embrace, but I don't give her room, keeping her close.
"You have to let a bit of Jake go, baby, he's always gonna be your best friend, but there's shit he'll wanna keep private, especially when it's about the woman he loves. You have to give him that," I say, my tone softer, the fingers on my right hand moving to tuck some loose hair behind her ears.
"Right now, there's tension between you two cos' he knows you're angry. He doesn't want your anger, Belle, he wants your support."
Dropping her forehead to my chest, she grumbles and the sound echoes into my skin. "How can someone so difficult and unmoving in their own life be so... I don't know, understanding for everyone else?"
I laugh silently at her words before leaning down to bite her earlobe, eliciting a small moan from her pouty lips. "Because I've been in a place of hurt, tryn’a fix the things I broke. Because my heart doesn't beat for them. Because when it comes to you, Belle, baby, there is no reasoning with my emotions."
"You’re bein’ the sweet, asshole version of Archer. He’s my favorite. It’s not fair. I'm vulnerable, you're taking advantage," she breathes out, arching her neck to give me access, moaning when my tongue drags up her neck as I kiss my way to her mouth.
My mouth pulls up in the tease of a smile at her words. "Baby, I don't need to take advantage of my wife," I explain, lifting her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter and opening her thighs to step inside. "She's always good to go. Ready for me. Isn't that right, Belle?"
I hook my fingers in her pants, those fucking pants, the ones that stick to her like a second skin and cause all effective thought in my primitive male brain to derail. "Mmmm-hmmmm," she answers, reaching for my belt buckle as I stand to full height, watching her hands free me and pull me towards her hot opening.
"Slow, baby." She looks up at me, pulling me down to her eager mouth.
"Yes, Ma-am," I grin, before stroking my tongue against hers, entering her body inch by inch, relishing in the stutter in her breath and the way her hands tighten on my shoulders once I'm fully sheathed.
**
I drive straight to his apartment complex, but his car isn't there. I don't know which apartment is his so there's no point knocking. Instead, I wait in my car and watch the building, biding my time for him to return.
I watch an elderly couple on the bottom level come and go, crossing that apartment of my mental list and wait again.
A young couple arrives home half an hour later, walking into an upper-level door. Crossed off the list. Only four more to go.
I wait another hour before I see a middle-aged guy leave his place on the bottom level and another twenty-five minutes for a young girl to walk into the last remaining apartment at the bottom.
That leaves only the two up top.
I wait for an hour.
I call Jake but he doesn't answer.
I wait half an hour and call him again. Nothing.
I text him. Nothing.
I call Steve, but he hasn't seen him either.
I give up after nearly three hours and drive onto Main Street. I pull up outside The Coffee House, and Darci greets me with a wide smile as I enter. I struggle to return it, and her mouth pulls down in a sympathetic frown, clearly reading my mood.
"You spoke to Annabelle?" she infers, and I nod my head.
"I spoke to Annabelle."
"Oh, Aubrey! I'm sorry, was it that bad? Or is she still just letting her anger get the better of her?" she moves us towards her office at the back, and I solemnly follow.
"She told me that she didn't want to know me anymore and a few other cutting sentences," I inform her and she makes a tsk sound while closing the door of her office.
"Babe, I'm sorry. I'm sure she'll come around, she has to," she comforts, moving in to hug me.
"We’ll see. But it gets worse, Jake was at Janie's when I left Annabelle's. I didn't even get a chance to speak, Darc, he told me to co-exist within the confines of town without interacting with him until I go home. I didn't even get to tell him that I am home now, he just drove away," I grumble. "I went to his place and waited for three hours, but he wasn't there and didn't come back. I didn't even know which apartment was his. I called him, no answer. I texted him, no answer. Fuck, I hate this."
Dropping into the large armchair housed in the office I groan out loud. "Why did I avoid him for so long? I'm such a fucking idiot. I should've gone straight to him when I arrived in Carnation. Now I look like I've been hiding from him."
"Well, haven't you?" Darci asks, and I tip my head to scowl at her.
"Okay, old wise one, yes, I have been, but please, today has been shit, fucked and cuntified. Please don't start with 'I told you so'."
"I don't actually think cuntified is a word, but it's inventive, I'll give you that," Darci changes the subject and I smile gratefully. "What are you gonna do?"
I let out a long drawn out breath and look around the office. "Mind if I chill here for a bit, I just, I don't know, I'm not ready to head home yet," I ask.
Darci clears her throat, nodding her head as her eyes flick nervously around the room. Only thing missing from her nervous jitters is the - nope, there it is - the push of the glasses at the bridge of her nose. "Darc." I pull her attention and she smiles tightly.
"It's just that, ummmm... tonight is, meaning to say we have live music tonight and ummmm... Jake may be singing," she mumbles out the last words, and I sit up straighter. "I don't wanna sound like a complete, insensitive cow because I love you, and I want this to work but I can't... Aubrey, I can't have any drama in my place of work. I don't want any awkwardness or… " she rambles, but I cut her off with a soft call of her name.
"I shall remain hidden, promise," I swear, holding my hand on my heart. "And if you can trust me to do as I've said, I'd love to stay, just to hear him sing. It's been so long," I say, and I can hear the longing in my voice, pleading for Darci to give me just a glimpse of him.
"Of course," Darci rushes to agree. "It's about three now, he starts at about five-thirty," she informs me. “Let's go into the shop and grab a coffee."
It's like my own personal hell, but not. Being tested with the barest hint of something you desire to its utmost. You want it all. Everything in that moment, you want to see, hear, smell, touch, taste. Everything. Yet you’re stuck with the barest hint of temptation, creeping into every cell within your body.
Just one look. It won't hurt. Just one and I'll be careful. I'll remain hidden, just to catch a glimpse.
Just one smell. A single trace of motor oil and mint to keep it alive in my brain.
Just one touch. Just a simple hand over his heart, being able to feel the steady rhythm of his heart.
Just one taste. Just one, maybe two. A kiss to a dimple, a touch of my lips to his neck, where his pulse beats strong and steady.
Instead I'm hidden, wishing for everything I can't have. His voice filters easily throughout The Coffee House; soft, acoustic music entertaining customers with the husk of his voice. I miss it so fucking much it makes me ache inside. But in the same moment, I feel like I can finally breathe a little easier now I've been given this taste of him, no matter how small. I listen to him talk between songs, small quiet barks of laughter when someone calls out to him.
I'd give anything to sit closer. To see the cords of his neck as he strains on a note, the veins in his arms as his hands move along his instrument and the small beads of sweat that form along his forehead. Has he contained his hair in a cap or is it falling into his face hiding his icy blue eyes from the crowd as he sings?
I've been sitting in here for over an hour listening, in equal parts heaven and hell. But I'm grateful for it all the same. Even the pain that it brings because it means he's close.
Darci comes in a few times, checking on me and bringing me coffee, offering food. It's sweet, unnecessary, but still sweet. In all honesty, I'd prefer to be left alone, to be able to enjoy it without interruption, but her intentions are well received.
"He's nearly done, only ever does an hour or so on weekdays. Should be one or two more songs and then you'll be free to leave your prison."
I smile at her, but it's forced and sad because the thought of him leaving is awful. I could stay and listen to him all night.
I hear him announce his last song and give in to my want, my need to see him. Carefully, I step from Darci's office and into the darkly lit atmosphere of The Coffee House. I pad lightly around the outskirts of the large space, staying hidden by shelves and displays. I move until I'm close enough, a hidden spot that allows me to see him, but not him me. I hate that. I want him to look at me when he sings. I want the icy blue stare, intense, driving inside of my soul. But I'll take this.
I watch his long fingers, expertly dancing across the strings of his guitar and the melody stills the room. It's hypnotic and stalling. His eyes remain closed, his focus elsewhere as the words drift along with the melody.
While his voice takes on a completely different angle to James Bay, the song resonates inside of me, and the softness of his voice captures the meaning of the lyrics. My heart falters in my chest at the emotion bleeding into his features as his neck strains, making the cords in his throat visible.
I can't move. My breath ceases, my body halting its ability to function as I watch him sing. As I watch his heart ripped open to the unknowing customers. The final strings of the chord fade into quiet, a few patrons quietly applaud him and whispered murmurs start to filter from the edges, but Jake's eyes remain downcast, closed to everyone around him. In this moment, he's alone. Alone in his thoughts. In his feelings. Relaxed to a point that he can express himself through his art and I envy him for that. I begrudge him that ability. I wish, other than the use of spoken words, I could express myself to him in a way that he’d understand. Completely. No room for doubt. To be able to be so open in my feelings but they still be private, because the ears listening, hearing the words, see nothing but a song to connect to their own life with and don't delve too deep into what the lyric may mean for him. I yearn for that ability.
I watch him pack away his belongings. People approach and smile at him, offering their praise, their joy at watching him sing and he accepts it all with modesty; a small smile, friendly but detached, the gesture not quite meeting his eyes, no dimple. He shakes some hands, laughs a little and before I know it his head moves around the space searching for Darci. I fall back further into my hiding spot and wish I could move closer to hear his spoken voice as he murmurs quietly to her. Offering a quick kiss to her cheek, he nods at something she says and moves out the door.
The Coffee House now feels empty without his presence, and I become swallowed by the loneliness his withdrawal causes. "You good?" Darci comes to stand next to me and I jump at her silent approach. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"I'm okay. Thanks for letting me stay. Sorry I didn't stay in there as promised," I indicate towards the office. "I just needed to see him, needed to watch him sing," I apologize, and she dismisses my words with a wave of the hand, her amber-colored eyes deepening with sympathy.
"Will you go to him now?" she asks, moving to lean against the wall across from me, one knee bent, ballet-flat pressed against the wood, the other straight.
"It might seem like an excuse, but I'm exhausted. Emotionally done for the day. Steve called me out on my shit yesterday, Annabelle broke me off, Archer reinforced his support and Jake, unknowingly, tore open my soul with his music after having cut off my ability to breathe, by telling me to leave him alone. Truthfully, I'm a mess inside right now. I wouldn't be able to put a thought together, to even try and get him to give me another chance right now. I'd probably just cry, and if I can't get the words out, I'm afraid he'll send me away." My eyes suddenly feel heavy with weariness. I'm so tired. My body aches all over, and I want to fall to the carpet and sleep for at least a week.
"I get that. Go home and rest. Look at everything with a new sense of focus tomorrow. You okay to get home?" she queries delicately, and I nod, moving forward to kiss her cheek before leaving through the same door as Jake.
The drive home is slow, and I blast the air conditioning to keep my eyes open for the few minutes it takes before I pull into Mom's drive. I wave at Mom and Steve, mumbling my need for sleep before falling onto my bed fully clothed and pass out within seconds.