“Yeah,” I say, wiping down our workstation. “I’m just going to head home.”
She pauses as we pack up. “Honey, it’s been months and months. I just don’t want you wasting away anymore.”
Months and months. And today more than ever, I feel the weight of that truth.
“You’re an addict.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “I went on a date not too long ago.”
This seems to perk her up. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. Great guy. And we’re going to give it another go, sometime soon.” The lie comes easy, but I feel no guilt when I see the relief in her eyes. Though invasive and maddening at times with her chatter, I’ve grown real affection for her and consider her a friend.
“That’s so good to hear.” She bristles. “Well, excuse me for saying it, but he’s a damned fool. And I promise you he will regret it if he’s not already. I can’t believe he just up and left like that.”
We both know the he she’s referring to is Sean, but I dart my eyes away. When the conveyor belt comes to a halt signaling the end of our shift, she takes a step toward me and hesitantly pulls me into a hug.
Left. Left me.
When the conveyer belt comes to a halt signaling the end of our shift, she takes a step toward me and hesitantly pulls me into a hug. “You’re good people, Cecelia. I’m going to miss you when you head off to school.”
I hug her back tightly. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
She pulls back and grips my shoulders. “You won’t miss my motor mouth.” She laughs and nudges me. “But I’ll sure miss your ear. How long do you have left?”
“Just a few months.”
She winks. “We’ll make it count.”
I nod and manage to muster a genuine smile as she leaves the line to punch out. I trail behind her, my thoughts going back to this morning’s conversation in my kitchen. To everyone close to me, I’m that girl now—the one who got her heart broken and retreated into herself.
Tobias sees me the same way—weak—but the irony is that it’s people like Melinda who struggle daily to make ends meet, and my affection for her and those in our circle that keeps me silent, compliant. If I thought for one second Tobias’s plans included hurting her or the people I’ve come to care about, I would have blown the whistle long ago. But that’s not the case. And despite my hatred for him, I know Tobias’s plans include giving the power back to the people of this town.
And that plan I’m all for.
Does it make me a bad person that I’m willing to let my father suffer because of it? Maybe.
But this is the part I chose to play.
And maybe some of my disregard for his welfare has to do with the grudge that he chose his empire over me.
Maybe losing everything he owns will bring him some much-needed humility and give him a second chance to do something else with his life. Find a more meaningful purpose. I know for sure that humility has changed me in a major way. And these lessons I haven’t taken for granted, even if I’ve been taken for granted in the process.
But if I thought Dominic was cold, his brother is far more callous. An impenetrable wall who thinks love is nothing but a nuisance.
Bad for business.
“You’re an addict.”
Anger flares as I gather my phone from my locker and check my messages to find one from Christy declaring she’s on a date and will call me tomorrow. She checks in with me daily now. And I know some of it has to do with the fact that she pities me. She worries for me.
I can’t even get my worst enemy to take me seriously because I walk around wearing my heartache like a badge on my sleeve, and it’s become the bane of my existence.
I slam my locker door, aggravation snaking around me. The people in my life are walking on eggshells worried about my fragility. It’s then that a sickening thought strikes me.
I’m becoming my mother.
An addict.
An addict.
Am I addicted to the high?
If I’m honest, that’s a lot of what I felt when I was with them. They fed it to me at every turn. But then that’s the crux of love, isn’t it? It is very much a high, a high people thrive on. One that can rip your soul apart once you’ve lost it.
And maybe it’s the chase of the high that has me breaking the rules tonight. It’s been eight months without a word. And if I’m an addict, it’s been way too fucking long without a hit. Physically, I can feel the added tension on the thin thread between the three of us now more than ever as I replay what happened in my kitchen.