“Briggs…” Maddison says, blinking away the tears, “I’m sorry. I just need you to know that, how sorry I am.”
“Thank you.” I say, looking back at Olive. I stroke her cheek and give her a kiss as Maddison heads up the stairs. I force myself not to watch her go and to focus on Olive instead. I needed my baby girl, even more than I realized. With her in my arms, I feel hope. After everything, I can’t talk to Maddison, not right now, not when I’m so fucking confused and angry and hurt.
I play with Olive for a few minutes when Maddison walks back downstairs, a suitcase in hand, along with a few things like Olive’s Bumbo seat and her pack and play.
"I’ll be staying at Reed’s, you and Olive don’t need to go anywhere,” I start to say once more, but she shakes her head, setting her things down on the landing of the stairs then swiping at the tears wetting her cheeks.
“I can’t, Briggs. I can’t be here right now, knowing things are like this between us. This is your home, and while I know you’d do anything for Olive, I just… I don’t feel right about staying here when this is all my fault. I don't’deserve your generosity. I don’t deserve kindness from you.” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, so full of emotion that it almost wrecks me. “I’m sorry for what I did, and if I could take it back and do everything the right way, I would. I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest sooner. I’m just… I’m so sorry, Briggs.”
I walk closer, Olive still in my arms babbling quietly. “You are the mother of my child, and while I am angry and right now, I don’t know what will happen between us, I will always be amicable with you for the sake of our daughter, and I don’t want you to think that you have to leave. You will always have a home here.”
“I don’t deserve that, and I think that I need to give you space. To… think about everything that’s happened. I just want you to know that I’m going to make this right, I take full responsibility and I’m going to do whatever it takes to fix it.
Her tears flow freely down her already damp cheeks, and she looks toward the ceiling, trying to gain her composure, rubbing at her already red and swollen eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
It guts me to see her cry, and even more so that I’m part of the reason for her tears. Yeah, she did something that hurt the fuck out of me, but I still don’t want to see her hurt in return.
This isn’t a competition about who can wound the other worse. I’m not that person, and neither is she.
“Please call me so we can arrange something for Olive. Briggs…I-I, I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you, and I’m so sorry that I have made such a colossal mess of everything, and I would do anything to gain your trust back.”
Her words should soothe the feeling of lead in my stomach, but it only makes it heavier. The thought that this could be a reality… I realize in this moment just how much I hate it. How much I don’t want this.
I just don’t know if my heart is willing to let her in again, not after everything.
Thirty Two
One week later
It’s been nine days. Nine days of going through the motions, taking care of Olive, giving her all of the love I possibly have, eating, showering, sleeping. On repeat.
I feel like a piece of me is missing, and the rest is just… numb.
The only thing that seems to feel is the pain in my heart that insists on making its presence known. The piece that's missing aches.
I hate this. I hate that I hurt Briggs, and I hate that my own fear caused me to act selfishly and keep this from him. If I was honest, maybe things would have been different. Maybe not, maybe he would've still hated me for what I've done. I didn’t tell him the truth, not only because I was afraid that he’d never forgive me, but because after everything he’s been through and finding out how deeply the media damaged him, I didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already had been hurt.
I didn’t want to bring up the past and make it a constant reminder in his life, when he’d done everything to turn things around.
In turn, I messed everything up.
I hurt the love of my life. I made him think he didn’t know me because I wasn’t honest or upfront.
All I can do now is give him the space that he asked for, and hope that he can forgive me, despite everything.
Dragging the brush though my hair, I numbly follow through the motions of getting ready. This is the first time I'm really leaving Ty's house since everything happened, but today, Holland called me and asked if I would have dinner with her and Emery.
I tried to say no, seriously tried. I don't feel like being around anyone, I feel like eating a bucket of ice cream and crying, but she insisted, and absolutely would not take no for an answer.
Once Ty heard about it, he practically forced me to say yes. He says I need social interaction and wallowing in pity isn't going to make me feel any better.
He's right, but still.
Which is why I'm here, trying to tame my hair and look semi-decent to go out in public. Briggs picked up Olive earlier today to spend the day together, so it's been just me here, and it sucks.
I've cried all the tears my body possibly has to cry, and now I have to put a pretend face on and act like everything's okay.
After brushing my hair, I grab a simple black t-shirt dress from my suitcase and put it on then pair it with my favorite hot pink Converse. I look myself over in the mirror, noticing that I've lost weight in the past week, enough to where the dress fits much looser than the last time I put it on.
I remember just a month ago I was dying to lose weight, and now… I feel like my cheeks are sunken in. Losing weight because you're heartbroken isn't the way to go. Trust me. And then each time I think about the fact that I'm heartbroken and in pain… then I feel guilty.
I feel even more guilt because I'm the reason this is happening. And if I'm hurting, I can only imagine how Briggs feels. It feels selfish of me to be hurting, since I'm the one who did this, but I can't help the way my heart feels. I miss him, I miss our family, I miss the way that he grins when he's teasing me, or the way he cooks breakfast in the morning, wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweats, low on his hips, and each time that I see him, I want to drag him right back to the bedroom.
God, it's even worse witnessing the sweet moments when he reunites with Olive after a couple of days. He misses her so much, I can see it in his eyes, and I hate it more than anything.
I hate all of it, and even though I didn’t know how yet, I know that I’m going to do whatever it takes to make it right.
The buzzer rings, signaling someone downstairs, and I realize that this will have to do. Even though I feel like I look nothing like myself, I have to put my big girl panties on and face my friends.
I grab my purse from the foyer table, and make sure to lock the door behind me, then walk to the elevator. Unease sits in my stomach as I ride it down, unsure of how today will go. I know that Holland and Emery are my friends… but they're also Briggs's friends. Reed’s wife and sister.
They have to know what is going on. Who I really am.
Now more than ever, I hate that The Puck Bunny turned into something that I'm not proud of. I used to be so proud, so over the moon that something I created was successful, and it was actually something people wanted. They subscribed and liked my blog just to read more. It felt like everything I had dreamed of since I was a little girl, holding my fake microphone in front of a room full of Brickside guests, reporting on fake news, was coming true. I never forgot that feeling, that rush I got standing there, and now all these years later, I felt like, finally, my dreams were unfolding before my eyes, until I realized the black hole that I was sucked into because of what I was doing.