My Baby, My Darling.

Chapter 47.

“I can’t believe you told him.”

I turned, watching the light from the television flicker across her face as the images changed. We’d been sitting like that for hours, mindlessly watching television. Although, we weren’t paying attention at all. We had been talking, never really looking at each other and only half-paying attention to the movie in front of us. It was such a causal situation and no one would ever think that she was bawling her eyes out only hours before. Now she was calm and back to her normal self, but she was still pregnant.

We’d moved on to talking about my life, partly because she wanted to divert the attention away from her news. I don’t think she wanted to cry anymore.

“He asked why I hadn’t told anyone that we were back together. He couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t run right over and tell you all about how we got back together.”

“You didn’t even tell Gabe?”

“For the same reason I didn’t tell you. I just—I don’t know—I didn’t want to deal with having to lie to Gabe about what happened.”

“You didn’t tell Travis?” She said and I inwardly flinched at the mention of his name. Nicole didn’t know about what happened. She doesn’t even know about his confession in New York. There was a lot of things she didn’t know, and slowly, I was beginning to see what Travis was talking about. There wasn’t one person in my life that I was being entirely truthful with and I struggled to remember a time where everything was right in the world.

“Not even Travis.” I said and she was quiet beside me. When I turned to face her again, she was looking at me. It was weird, this was the first time she looked into my eyes since she stopped crying. Her eyelids were smeared with makeup and her mascara stained streaks of black onto her cheeks. And I wondered how she still managed to maintain her dignified beauty. She was still Nicole.

“You know,” She said, turning so that she was facing me. I watched her pull her knees up to her chest and push her back agains the arm rest of the couch. “That night, at Gabe’s party. I watched you two—on the couch?”

I was quiet. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to say something or not. Confirm the idea that, yes, we were talking on the couch. I was drunk, but I still remember everything from that night. I vaguely remember making eye contact with her from across the room.

“You guys—I’m not sure if you notice the way he looks at you. Travis, I mean. And it’s just—I don’t know. I hadn’t really noticed it before. But that night, that was different. He looked at you different. Like, I don’t know—“

“Look, Nik. Nothing is going on between Travis and I—“

“Don’t lie to me.” She said, not harshly. Her voice was hoarse from the crying and her tone was tired. “What’s going on with you two?”

“I don’t know.” I said. And I couldn’t help but notice that was the most truth I’d uttered in days. She blinked, as if waiting for more of an explanation. If I was going to tell her the truth, then I might as well tell her the whole story.

“In New York, he said—he admitted that he has feelings for me. But you remember how much of a mess I was in New York. I had just broken up with Dexter and I couldn’t think straight at all. And after he told me that, I kind of—I ran away.”

“What the fuck is up with you and running away when people say that they have feelings for you?” She said and I couldn’t help but smile. Even though her voice was hoarse, she was still as sassy as ever. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

“After that, we kind of established that we wouldn’t let it affect our friendship. He’s a great friend to me, Nik. And he’s been around for so long, you know? He means something to me.”

“But you don’t love him.” She stated and I shook my head.

“No.” I whispered and she nodded. “I don’t love him in the way that he wants me to.”

“Not in the same way that you love Dexter.” She said and I was quiet. After a few moments, she spoke again. “Do you still love him?”

I was quiet. If I couldn’t answer Dexter that question, it was even harder to give Nicole an answer.

“What’s stopping you from moving in with him?” She asked after a long time and I looked over at her. Inwardly, I struggled with whether or not I should tell her everything going on in my mind. Every insecurity and in depth analysis that has been running through my mind for the past few weeks since Dexter and I got back together. I could either tell Nicole the truth or bullshit an answer and be done with this whole discussion. The truth, I was convinced, might somehow ease the weight off my chest.

“He—you know, he’s a father now,” I said and she was quiet. “He worries about Lydia. Like, he makes sure everything she touches is sanitary and makes sure she stays away from anything that has high-fructose whatever. And then there’s Monica. Who’s actually a really great person and as much as I want to hate her, I don’t. I don’t hate her. She’s all organic everything and she knits. Who the fuck knits anymore? And sometimes, I can’t help but think. If I weren’t here, if I had never met Dexter, would the three of them be a big happy family. I feel like he deserves that. He deserves to be happy. And Dexter, he makes me happy. But if I keep him from being happy, then that’s just selfish of me, right? You know, when it comes to Dexter, I always blamed him. I blamed him for lying to me. And he did lie to me, so many times, about very important things. And then I’d find out and we’d fight and I’d just…run away. Every time, I ran away. And he came running after me. Does that sound strange to you? That every time he gives me an excuse to be mad at him, I just run away? The only reason that we are still together is because he keeps running after me.”

“He loves you.” She said after what seemed like forever, “That’s why he chases after you.”

“I know.” I nodded. “But I’m not going to stick around for the day that I realize that I might not want him to.”

“What are you talking about?”

I took a deep breath before uttering my next few words. “I—I kissed Travis.”

She was quiet and I looked over at her. Her expression was blank. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that I was a hypocrite. She cheated on Gabe and I gave her hell for a month. Of course she was judging me. There was no way that she wouldn’t.

“Why?” She said it calmly, no accusation in her tone. And it shocked me.

“I was drunk.”

Nicole shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“What—“

“What I did to Gabe…it was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. And when I did it, I was drunk. But I did it because I was angry. I thought that—-I thought that he didn’t care about me. I don’t know, it’s ridiculous. But what I did, I did it out of anger. And my mind is fucked up, I will admit that. I do fucked up things when I’m angry. I’m not defending what I did. It happened. And I’m dealing with it. You kissed Travis. Why did you do it?”

“He was there.” I said and she waited for me to continue. “I was trying to convince myself that I didn’t love Dexter so that, I don’t know, it would be easier for me to be away from him. And Travis was there, and I knew that he had feelings for me. And I thought, why not? I can love him. I can make myself love him. I need something good, something that will make me better. And then I realized that I’ve become one of those douchebags that lie. Dexter doesn’t know that I kissed Travis and Travis knows that I didn’t tell Dexter about the kiss. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up.”

“It is fucked up.” She said, a sympathetic grin on her face. “But there are millions of things in this world that are fucked up. You and Dexter—you two weren’t together when you kissed Travis. That isn’t an excuse, but you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. Travis is a big boy. He fucked half of the girls that perform at that stupid open mic night. Dexter has had his fair share of lovers in this city. You are not the first girl to date Dexter McHale. What you did—it isn’t as bad as you think. There are plenty of fucked up people in this world, but Chels, you aren’t one of them. And you know what, that isn’t the problem here. The problem is that you’re scared.”

I couldn’t help but smirk, “I’m scared? Scared of what?”

“He hurt you, Chels.” She said, her eyes boring into my own so that I would somehow embed the words into my mind. “He hurt you. And when guys hurt you, you run far away. You’ve done it so much now that it’s an instinct. But the thing is, you never loved any of those guys. They were just douchebags. But Dexter, he’s a good guy. He just made a mistake. But his intentions were good. You still got hurt. And that’s what’s so conflicting about this. Your instinct tells you to run away and kiss the first guy you see just to get back at him. But you love him. That’s what’s so different about this.”

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right. This was my pattern. Whenever I got hurt, I ran away. I ran away and tried not to think about the pain. But with Dexter, I felt all of it. When we broke up, I felt everything and it’s like all the pain I’d built up all of those years was exploding from inside of me and overflowing to the point that I was numb to everything. But I love him. And because I love him so much, I tried to push him away because I was so afraid that he would hurt me again and I’d have to feel the same pain all over again. That’s why I’ve been so guarded around him. I won’t let him love me because letting him love me—letting myself love him—means letting in the possibility of opening those floodgates again.

“What if there comes a day where he doesn’t love me anymore? I don’t think—I don’t think I’ll be able to take it. I don’t know if I can go through that.”

“You’re already in his life. And he already told you that he wants you in his life. You just have to decide whether or not you want to stay.”

And Dexter's words echoed in my mind. It's always been my decision. And I hated that he was right. But this time, it wasn't going to be my decision. I wasn't going to let this one be my decision. And I hated myself for it. I will probably always hate myself for what I was about to do.

Dexter POV

“Hey, Lydia. Can you come over here and finish your food?”

“No.” She called from her station on the couch, where she was playing with those stupid legos that always find ways to lodge themselves into the soles of my bare feet. I know for a fact that Lydia gets her attitude from Monica.

“Lydia. You can’t watch TV until you finish your food.” I warned over the running water as I washed the plates in my sink.

She was quiet and when I peeped my head around the corner, I saw that she was just sitting there, ignoring me. And no, she was not sitting at the table finishing her food. She’s only three and a half, but my god, it’s like she’s skipped a few years and launched herself into teenage rebellion. I dried off my hands and walked into the living room, snatching her into my arms.

“No! My castle.” She whined as I pulled her away from the multicolored tower sitting on the coffee table.

“You haven’t finished your macaroni and cheese. You need to eat your food, baby.” I said, sitting her back in front of the table.

“I don’t want it. It tastes bad.” She said simply, not looking at me. Of course it tastes bad, it’s that gluten free crap that Monica made me feed her. It took all of my fucking willpower just to swallow one bite of that shit.

“Yeah, well Mommy says it’s your favorite.” I said, crouching so that I was at eye level with her.

“I don’t like it.” She pouted, looking down at the bowl of macaroni.

“One bite.”

“No.” She turned away from me and I let out a sigh. It’s been an entire fucking day of this “no” crap. I wasn’t bargaining here. She either does what I say or she doesn’t.

God, listen to me. I sound like my father.

“Okay. Okay, fine. What do you want to eat?” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I was exhausted and Monica said she’d be back to pick Lydia up an hour ago. I have an early shift at the hospital tomorrow morning.

“Waffles.” She smiled and I couldn’t help but laugh. It is literally 7 P.M. and this girl wants waffles. I’m pretty sure that Chelsea left a box of waffles in my freezer last week.

“Okay. I’ll make you waffles, but you can’t tell Mommy.” I said, putting out my pinky and she giggled. Holy shit, her laugh would be the death of me.

“Okay.” She smiled, linking her pinky with mine. I stood and walked to my freezer. Sure enough, there was a pack of that god-awful freezed breakfast food sitting on the first shelf. Chelsea and her damn breakfast foods.

I put two waffles into the toaster and looked back over to the table. The now cold macaroni sat on the table untouched and I emptied its contents into the trashcan. What Monica doesn’t know won’t hurt her. There was a knock at the door and Lydia leaped up from the couch.

“Mommy’s here!” She said, running to the door. I ran after her to make sure that Monica really was behind the door and it wasn’t that idiot neighbor that’s always pestering me for five dollars. When I looked through the peephole, Monica was pulling the thick scarf off of her neck and shoving it into her purse.

“Hey.” She smiled when I pulled open the door and Lydia ran into her arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have fun with your dad today?”

I stepped aside and Monica carried Lydia into my apartment. “Daddy’s making me waffles.” Lydia grinned and Monica raised her eyebrows at me.

“Is he now?” She said, setting her down and crouching so that they were eye level.

“Mhm.” Lydia smiled, “Do you want to see my castle?”

“I’ll be over there in a minute, baby. I need to talk to daddy. Why don’t you go ahead and make the castle super duper big so that I can take a picture of you with it, okay?”

Lydia nodded and ran into the living room, quickly getting to work on building an even bigger tower of legos. I turned around to walk into the kitchen and Monica followed behind me, taking a seat on one of the bar stools in front of the counter.

“Is there any chance those are gluten free waffles that you’re about to feed her?”

“Oh, give me a break with that gluten-free shit. Lydia does not have celiac disease. She can eat real food.”

“And those processed waffles, that’s real food?” She said, pointing past me at the toaster.

“For a three-year old, yes.”

“Her whole diet is gluten free and organic, Dexter. You know this.” She narrowed her eyes, dropping her voice so that she was whispering.

“I am a certified physician, Monica. Do you think that I am going to feed my daughter poison?”

“Okay, but you are not in charge of her diet. I am. And I am telling you that she cannot eat that.”

“She hates that fucking gluten-free crap. She didn’t even touch her macaroni and cheese. What was I supposed to do, starve her?” I whispered harshly.

Monica rolled her eyes, “Okay, but when she’s with me, she eats everything I tell her to eat. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re Satan’s mistress.”

“Real mature, Dexter.”

“I’m not going to force her to eat something she doesn’t want to eat, okay?”

“Okay, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But if she won’t eat it, then I don’t want you feeding her that processed crap. Give her an apple or sliced carrots and celery.”

“Sliced carrots and celery.” I laughed, “Mon, she is three.”

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you here. Can you just—“ I watched her take a deep breath and then look back up at me. “Will you please just not hide things from me when it comes to Lydia? We need to be on the same page here. And I need you to respect how I’ve chosen to handle things. I’m just asking you to give her fruit and vegetables, okay?”

I licked over my lips and nodded, “Okay.” I hated to admit it, but Monica was right. If she wanted Lydia to have a healthy diet, I wasn’t supposed to object to that. I thought it was insane, but it’s what Monica wants. And there are more important things to worry about in this world. Lydia’s diet may annoy the hell out of me, but it’s what Monica wants and it doesn’t harm Lydia in any way. “Fine. No waffles.”

“Thank you.” She said, allowing a grin to make its way onto her face.

“How was the lunch with Chelsea?” I said, pulling a waffle out of the toaster and taking a bite. It tasted way better than that gluten free macaroni shit.

She smiled, “I have to admit, I love her. Probably more than you do.”

“Doubt it.” I mumbled in between bites and she laughed.

“No, but really. She’s great. She’s so talented. And smart. She matches your sense of humor, I’ll tell you that.”

“Where did you guys go?” I said, only half paying attention as I picked up the other waffle.

“The Waffle House on Sixth and Walton.” She said and I choked on the pieces of waffle in my mouth. That waffle house is gluten free everything and there is not a single ounce of coffee within a mile radius of that place. All they have there is tea. Chelsea must have been dying.

“Are you joking?” I coughed, pulling a water bottle from my fridge and chugging half of it to get rid of my coughing fit.

“No.” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and laughed, “Why?”

“That place is the greenest restaurant in the state of Connecticut. No coffee. Gluten-free, sugar-free, and organic everything. Chelsea is the exact opposite of that place. You must be out of your mind.”

“What?” She laughed, “She seemed fine.”

“Did she eat anything?” I asked and she opened her mouth to respond, but stopped.

“No. Oh my god.” She shook her head, looking down at the counter. “She hated that place. Why didn’t I see it? God, she didn’t even drink the green tea.”

I laughed, “Green tea. She hates that shit.”

“Wow, I feel terrible. Oh, my God.” She said, running a hand over her face. “I feel so bad.”

“You just have to admit that everyone hates the clean eating lifestyle.” I shrugged and she narrowed her eyes at me.

“Mommy, come look at my castle!” Lydia called from the other room and Monica moved off from her stool, still staring me down.

“I’m coming, sweetie.” She said, finally turning to walk into the living room.

My phone went off from beside me and I looked down at the caller ID.

“Hey, Annie. What’s up?” I said, my eyes travelling to Monica and Lydia in the living room. I watched as Lydia held up one of the lego towers and Monica’s eyes grew wide with admiration. As much as Monica annoyed me, she was a good mother. And that’s probably the only thing that keeps me from snapping at her every five minutes.

“Dex.” Annie coughed and my body went cold. I knew that tone, that tired, sickly whimper. That same tone had pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night. That tone made me wonder whether or not today was going to be the day that I drove my sister to the hospital and didn’t bring her home. It was the same tone that forced me to bribe dealer after dealer just so that they wouldn’t sell to her. And I thought that I would never have to hear her like that again.

“Where are you?” I breathed, turning away from the sight of Monica and Lydia. I forced myself to move toward my bedroom, ready to grab my car keys and medical kit.

“It isn’t—It isn’t what you think. I mean, it kind of is. But this is different.”

“You’re using again. There is nothing different about it.” I said, holding my phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I checked the cash in my wallet.

“This is different.” She whispered, slightly slurring her words. But I could tell that she was right. At most, Annie was drunk. But she wasn’t on drugs. I knew that.

“What’s going on?” I said, straining my medical bag over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

I heard voices in the background, male voices. I tried to count how many there were, but it was too muffled and too loud. The phone was being thrown around and hit the ground a few times. After a few moments, Annie’s voice returned.

“Can you—can you please just come to the club on Waldorf and Tinsley? Please. I’ll—I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Okay.” I agreed. I always agreed. It was Annie.

Monica was helping Lydia construct a new tower when I walked back into the living room. When her eyes landed on my medical bag, her expression turned into one of worry. Monica knew Annie at her worst, and it was one of the reasons they never got along. Monica hated it when I used to leave in the middle of the night to pick up Annie. She thought it was a hopeless cause.

“What did she do this time?” Her voice was hushed and my eyes moved to Lydia, who paid no attention to the conversation.

“I don’t know.” I admitted, my expression hard. Monica didn’t know Annie. She never bothered to understand Annie the way Chelsea always has. In Monica’s eyes, Annie was self-destructive and selfish. But Chelsea saw her for what she really was, smart and witty and strong. Chelsea sees Annie the way that I see her, the way that no one ever bothers to see her. “Will you lock up when you guys leave?”

But I walked out the front door before she could respond. I knew that she’d just try to convince me not to go, just like she always used to. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to her complain.

It was a fifteen minute drive to the club. Annie was leaning against the wall beside the front door when I pulled up. She was laughing at something the bouncer was saying and I could tell by the high-pitched giggles that she was drunk.

“Annie.” I said, and she spun around to face me, her eyes growing wide.

“Big brother!” She screamed and the bouncer looked amused. “Dex, you have to help me. I have a problem. A serious problem.”

“You’re drunk.” I said and she hiccuped.

“I am.” Her eyes were glossy.

“Are you on anything else?”

“Dex.” She whined, like it was a stupid question.

“Just answer me.”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and I kept my stare on her face. “I swear. I am just drunk. Very drunk. But that’s all.”

“I thought you weren’t drinking anymore.”

“I only had a few.”

“Annie, what the hell. You have a system, and you can’t just fucking break the plan because you crave vodka.” I know that she’s been going to meetings with a therapist every week. I know because I’m the one that pays for it. And the therapist she goes to is my colleague who I share a lot of patients with. I know the guys mantras and shit. He uses words like systems and breaking the plan. I used to think he was just some douchebag with a psychology degree, but he helped Annie. So the stuff he says must work.

“Dexter, I am the least of your problems right now, okay?” She said and her gaze turned serious. It’s like she was trying to read my expression to figure out my state of mind. But really, she just looked psychotic.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I said, turning away from her gaze.

“Travis is in there.” She said, pointing to the door.

I let out a breath of air. Why the fuck would she call me here, then? She knows I hate that prick. “Okay, so why the fuck am I here?”

“He needs your help.” She said and I couldn’t help but scoff.

“He needs to find someone to obsess over that is not my girlfriend, that’s what he fucking needs.” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Look, we came here because Greg wanted us to schmooze some client. But they’re into some pretty heavy stuff. And when I say heavy, I mean that they’ve been shooting and snorting all kinds of shit. And I meant it when I said that I’m not the problem here because I’ve been sipping vodka all night. But Travis is on something. He isn’t just drunk, and I know for a fact that he doesn’t mess with this stuff. And I know what it can do to people. That’s why I need you. I need you to help him.”

Travis was a lot of things, but he wasn’t one of those self-destructive shitheads that Annie used to hang around with. And if he’s on something, then he needs to be watched. Annie called me because, medically, she thinks I can help him. But if what she says is true and Travis already has some sort of drug in his body, I can’t do much to help him. All I can do is make sure he doesn’t do anymore stupid shit.

“Okay, fine. Take me to him.” I said and she wrapped her arms around me. I could smell the booze radiating off of her. It was a sickeningly familiar feeling and I hoped that I’d never have to associate her with this scenario again.

Annie took me through the crowded, insanely loud club and towards a door in the back. The room was still loud, but less crowded than everything else. Glass surrounded all but one wall, which was painted black. I noticed that everyone inside the room could see out the windows, but everyone on the outside only saw black glass and their own reflections.

I spotted him in the corner of the room, laughing obnoxiously about something that probably wasn’t funny to begin with. It occurred to me that I had never seen him laugh before. I’d been to parties with Travis all the time before I met Chelsea and I’d never seen him even crack a smile. But now he was full-out hysterical. The sight would be funny to me if I didn’t know he was on drugs.

“Travis,” Annie called to him and he waved her off as he continued to talk to some old guy with sunglasses on, despite the fact that there was little to no light in this room.

Annie shook his shoulder again. “Travis, our ride is here.”

“Fuck off, Annie. I didn’t call a ride.” Travis laughed and my jaw involuntarily clenched at the way he just spoke to my sister. I moved past her and she made a move to grab my arm, but she was too late. I grabbed Travis by the collar of his shirt and brought him to his feet.

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that, you little shit. Let’s go.” I said, shoving him toward the door and Annie narrowed her eyes at me as we passed.

“You couldn’t be more gentle?”

“No.” I said, shoving Travis forward.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He spun around, his eyes bloodshot. My eyes moved to his hands and watched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Who do you think you are? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Yes, you are.” I said, pushing him so that he was walking backwards. He stopped and threw his body forward to push me back. I stumbled into Annie and she cursed, mumbling something about me stepping on her foot.

“You have no fucking right to tell me what to do, man.”

I took a deep breath, repeating to myself that I could not kill him here. There were too many witnesses and he wasn’t in his right state of mind. “Come on, dude. Just keep walking.”

“You think you’re some big shot, don’t you?” He sneered, looking me up and down. I shook my head and walked toward him so that I could keep him moving toward the door. He shoved me again, but this time I stood my ground.

I watched a scowl spread across his face, “Just because you’ve got Chelsea wrapped right around your little finger. You’ve got her hanging on every word you say, right?”

“Look, man.” I said, my jaw clenched as I reminded myself not to knock him out right here and now. “I’m just trying to get you home. You’ve had a few to drink and I think you should just listen to me.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. I watched him use the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the bottom of his nose and I shook my head on realization to what he was on. I just couldn’t believe he’d be so stupid.

“You know what I think? I think that you’re not good enough for her. That’s what I think. And you know what else, I think that you’ve fucked around with her too much. You broke her. That’s what I think.” He said and I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes at him. This fucker was seriously getting on my nerves. First he disrespects Annie, and now he was saying shit about my relationship. This has to end now.

“Travis,” Annie moved in front of me. “I’m drunk. And I need to get home. Dexter is going to drive me home. You’ve been drinking, so he is driving you home too. If you make this hard on either of us, I’ll have to tell Greg about what happened here tonight. You don’t want that.”

Travis narrowed his eyes at me before nodding and allowing Annie to lead him towards the door. I had to take a few breaths to calm myself before I followed them both out to the car. After I unlocked the doors, Annie pushed Travis into the back seat and then moved to the passenger seat as I started the car.

“Your car is a piece of shit, you know that?” Travis said from the backseat and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. Annie noticed this and turned around so that she was facing him.

“What you did tonight wasn’t cool.” She said, her voice gentle. I heard him scoff and she continued to talk. “I left you alone with those guys for, what, ten minutes. I come back and you’re all taking turns doing lines of cocaine. What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you insane? Do you have any idea what kind of shit you got yourself into?”

He was quiet in the backseat and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. What Chelsea sees in this guy as a friend is beyond me. What Gabe sees in this guy as a friend is beyond me. He’s an idiot. He probably doesn’t know anything about the addictive qualities of coke. He doesn’t know how much he fucked up.

I pulled up to Annie’s apartment and she turned to face me, “What are you doing?”

“Get out.” I said and she narrowed her eyes at me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I nodded and she scoffed.

“You couldn’t even get this guy out of the club. There is no way I’m leaving you two alone together. It’s a fucking death sentence for either one of you.” She was exaggerating. She knows that I wouldn’t have the heart to kill him. And Travis is too drunk and high to land a proper punch.

“This is the reason you called me. Let me handle this. Get out.”

She looked at me for a moment, silently finding the courage to believe in me. After a few seconds, she let out a groan and pulled her seatbelt off. She slammed the car door shut behind her and trudged into her apartment building as I pulled away from the curb.

Travis was quiet in the backseat for a few minutes and I wondered if he passed out or something. Just as I was questioning whether or not to pull over to the side of the road to check his vitals, he said something.

“I meant what I said,” he muttered. “You aren’t good enough for her.”

I was quiet. And I couldn’t figure out if it was because I didn’t trust myself to say anything reasonable or if I just didn’t know what to say. I know that I’m not good enough for her. No matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to give her everything. And I will probably never get her to trust me after I lied to her about Lydia. Hell, she can’t even tell me that she loves me.

“You broke her.” He said, unusually harsh considering his usually impassive tone.

Ever since Chelsea and I got back together, she hasn’t been the same. Her eyes have been empty, void of it’s usual glint. Her expression void of it’s usual smirk. She hasn’t been sketching. She always used to sketch. When we are together, it’s about me. We’re watching Lydia or she’s listening to me talk about my patients or we’re being ambushed at dinner by Annie and my brother. She’s always dealing with my mistakes, with my family’s mistakes. And she tried to fix it, she got dragged into my mess and she tried to help me. She tried to help me and somewhere along the line, I lost her. She put all of her faith in me and I lied to her. Now she sin’t the girl that doodles with every free moment, the girl that’s always forcing me to play scrabble with her, the girl that blasts music in my apartment and tries to get me to dance with her. That girl is gone and is replaced by what she thinks I want her to be.

“You broke the only girl I ever loved.”

I broke her. I know that I broke her. And so does he.