Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
She sobs quietly, wordlessly, pressing herself closer to me.
"It's okay, butterfly. This is exactly what I want."
"I s-should have told you."
"You don't owe me answers either, Nadia."
"Yes, I do!" she cries, her eyes wide and distressed. "I w-wanted to tell you, Teo. I meant to tell you. I was so angry for a long time because you weren't there. I thought you didn't care. And then you came back into my life, and I realized that I had it all wrong. You weren't there because you didn't even know. No one told you."
"I should have known," I whisper regretfully. "It fucking kills me that I didn't, butterfly. You needed me."
"Please, don't," she pleads. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to blame yourself. I'm tired of the past eclipsing the future. I'm tired of us hurting over things we c-can't change. It wasn't your f-fault, Teo."
"Can I…" I swallow hard. "Can I ask about it, butterfly?"
"My whole life, I had you and my dad protecting me," she whispers. "And then this really awful thing happened, and no one could protect me from it. I didn't know how to handle it, Teo. I knew things were getting bad, but I didn't know what to do or how to ask for help. I felt like I was frozen. So I took sleeping medication at night. I bought anxiety pills from a classmate to make it through the day. I pretended I was fine." She exhales a shaking breath. "I was supposed to be leaving for college, and I was so fucking scared. My mom caught me taking medication so I could force myself to get in the car one day…and I just cracked. I told her and Dad everything."
"Jesus, butterfly," I whisper, holding her tightly as my fucking chest burns.
"I should have told them long before it got to that point, but I didn't know how," she says, laying her head against my shoulder. "They got me into treatment to help me deal with the PTSD and find a new normal without self-medicating." She sighs softly. "When I got out, my dad sat me down with my songbook and told me to chase my dreams. So I told him that I wasn't going to college. They freaked out a little when I moved out, but I had to learn to be okay by myself." She exhales softly. "And I had to do it away from memories of you."
I swallow, my throat burning. "You relapsed when I was drafted?"
"No." She lifts her head, looking at me. "It wasn't like that, Teo. I was in a minor accident right before you were drafted. Honestly, this one was just a fender bender, but between it and seeing your face everywhere again, I felt…stretched thin again. I was having horrible nightmares about the other accident and the hospital. I knew how bad it could get, so I decided to check myself in to get help before I spiraled out of control." She places her hand on my cheek, meeting my gaze. "I hated myself for a long time for pushing you away, and seeing your face everywhere again made me realize I wasn't dealing with it as well as I'd been pretending I was. But it wasn't your fault, Teo. I never once felt that way."
I jerk my chin in a nod. "I fucking hate that I wasn't there, Nadia. I hate that I didn't know. I'm so goddamn sorry, butterfly."
"Me too," she admits. "But I didn't call you, either, Teo. We both messed up. We were both messed up. We broke it together."
"We're doing this shit right this time," I vow.
"That's what I want." Her eyes burn with hope that makes my fucking chest ache. "I want it so damn bad."
"Then we'll make it happen, baby. It's always been us against the world," I remind her, brushing my lips against hers. "We can't undo the past, but starting right here, right now, we can promise that we'll communicate. We'll handle shit differently. I won't make choices for you. You'll tell me when you need help. I'll get help with my shit. We make decisions together."
"Like you quitting football?" She arches a brow at me.
"Are you pissed about it, butterfly?"
"No," she whispers. "I understand why you did it. I'm proud of you for deciding to walk away from something that wasn't serving you. I just wish…" She huffs a sigh. "I don't know. I'm having complicated feelings about hiding, I guess. It feels wrong that we're hiding my stuff while you're dragging yours out into the light."
"It isn't wrong, baby. It's different. I've spent six years destroying my reputation and life. You've spent six years trying to rebuild yours and learn to stand on your own feet. You don't have to rip at your scars just because the world wants a show. That isn't healing. Doing what you're doing, fighting every day to stay ahead of it and keep putting one foot in front of the other, that's healing." I brush my lips against hers again. "Now, I'll be doing a little healing of my own, too. It doesn't have to look exactly the same way for both of us to mean we're going in the same direction."