Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I’ll be fine, Elle.”
“Right.” She gets into her car and starts it up. I wait for her to roll down the window, but she doesn’t. She pulls away and I stand there, watching her drive down the road. I have a feeling this is the last time I’m ever going to see her.
11
ELLE
The drive to my parent’s house takes longer than normal. I have to pull over a couple of times when my emotions get the better of me, and my eyes become too blurry to drive. I keep imagining Ben living a healthy life after this battle, but as soon as I see him happy and smiling, the vision changes and I see me standing next to his hospital bed, begging him to hold on. I can’t lose him, and yet I already have, and I don’t know what to do to get him back. He seems resigned on ending us, and it's not going to matter what I want or what I have to say.
I didn’t call my parents to let them know I’m coming out, so I’m not shocked they’re not home. I use my key and go into the condo, and head to what used to be mine and Peyton’s room. It’s now Oliver’s room and smells like baby. I pick up his teddy bear and hold it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I let the tears flow as I hold the bear to me.
“Life isn’t supposed to be this way.” I sob. “Haven’t I been through enough?”
I sit down in the rocker my parents have in Oliver’s room and curl up. I don’t remember my grandma, because she died of cancer when I was three or four. Then my father died, and I almost lost my soul when Peyton was in the car crash. Had I lost her, I don’t know how I’d survive. She’s part of me.
Ben, though.
I love him and can’t imagine my world without him whether he wants to be my lover or my friend. I know that healing from a breakup takes time, but it doesn’t seem like we have time to heal. Not with him being sick.
“Fucking cancer,” I say to Oliver’s wall decorations. “How can he have fucking cancer?”
God, I want to throw shit. I want to beat my hands against the wall, against the windows. I want to watch glass shatter and feel it rip my skin. I welcome the pain because then I’ll know if I’m feeling or just being present. Ben thinks I’m emotionally stinted. He’s probably right. I like to keep my feelings locked because feelings get exploited. People use your feelings against you in my industry. They call you weak if you show too much emotion. I need to be strong, resilient, and show every person who doubts me that I can make it on my own, without the help of my dad.
Ben doesn’t need to see this side of me.
Another wave of fresh tears fall, and I do nothing to stop them. Eventually, I’ll run out and there’ll be nothing left. I want to be there for Ben, but he doesn’t want me.
He doesn’t want me.
He didn’t ask me to stay. To help him. To be by his side. To hold his hand. To be there when he wakes up from surgery.
He says he’ll be fine.
Fine.
He doesn’t love me anymore.
The front door slams. I wipe the tears away and put Oliver’s teddy bear where I found it. My parents will know something’s wrong as soon as they see me, and I’m not prepared to tell them.
I run into Quinn coming down the hall and all I see is red. I rush toward him, place both hands on his chest and push him backward.
“Whoa, what the hell?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I hit him again, this time with my closed fist. “Why couldn’t you just be my brother for once and tell me that Ben was sick.?”
He grabs my wrists and holds them away from his body. I squirm, trying to get out of his grip, but there’s no use.
“Calm down, Elle.”
“Screw you, Quinn.”
He directs me toward the hall and pushes me away. “When you’re an adult, we’ll talk. Until then, go have your pity party in the guest bedroom.”
“Oh, the high and mighty Quinn, bossing everyone around.”
He stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head. “You’re your own worst enemy, sometimes. I don’t get it, Elle.”
“Ben’s sick and you kept it from me. If anything happens—”
“You’ll what? Blame me? How in the hell is any of this my fault? Yes, Ben’s sick. He chose not to tell you. That was his choice. Not mine, and certainly not yours.”
“You don’t get it.” I walk toward him, leaving the confines of the hall.
“No, I do, Elle. You’re used to everyone bowing down to you. You’re the princess. You get what you want. Believe me, Elle. I know because I grew up with you.” He stops and shakes his head. “When are you going to grow up and realize this isn’t about you. It’s about Ben. That’s it. No one else. Not me. Not you. Not his brother. Ben needs to be the priority.”