Voices warred inside me.
Go get her back, you asshole.
Let her go. She’s better off without you.
You love her. You’ll be miserable without her.
So what? It’s better than making her miserable.
Women like her don’t have to give second chances, you know. Get yourself the fuck together and go after her.
I wanted to tear my hair out. Claw my eyes out. Shred the skin from my bones. I wanted to punish my body, castigate my brain for what it was making me think and feel. Even though I’d already been to the gym this morning, I went back and put myself through another grueling workout. Then I came back to the cabin, where everything reminded me of Skylar. The porch. The couch. The shower. The kitchen. The bedroom.
I made a sandwich but couldn’t even eat it because I saw the honey sticks next to the peanut butter in the pantry. The thought of her giving her honey-kisses to some other guy split my chest in two. I stood staring out the sliding glass door onto the rain-soaked patio, recalling the night last spring when I’d bought the chairs and the next day when she’d watched me put them together. The hammock was down now, but I could still see her lying there, still feel the way her body felt on mine when we’d lain in it together last summer. I looked at the dock, where she’d first told me she loved me. Fuck, why couldn’t I just be normal? Any other guy would have just bought the ring and proposed by now. A woman like her was one in a million.
My cell phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket. It was Skylar’s number.
Thank God. I didn’t even hesitate before pressing Accept. Even if she just wanted to yell at me, at least I’d hear her voice.
“Fuck. I’m such an asshole,” I croaked.
“What? Sebastian?”
My heart stopped. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Skylar’s. “Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s Natalie.”
Gray fog clouded my vision, and I steadied myself with one hand on the counter. Why was Natalie using Skylar’s phone to call me? Was she so mad she didn’t even want to hear my voice? Or had something happened to her? “What’s going on? Is Skylar OK?”
“She’s OK. But she had an accident.”
“Oh my God.” The room spun, and for a second I thought I might get sick. I caused it. I caused it. This time it’s real. “A car accident?”
“No. She slipped and fell on some wet cement stairs outside a restaurant. She broke her wrist and hit her head pretty good, but she’s fine now.”
“Jesus.” I grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged on it. So it wasn’t a car accident, but it was still your fault. She went to the restaurant alone and you should have been with her. “Where is she?”
“She’s at Munson. But she doesn’t want to see you.”
“What? Why?” You know why, you stupid fuck.
“I don’t know. She didn’t elaborate, and she’s exhausted and loopy from the pain meds, but when I asked if I should call you, she said no, she didn’t want to see you and that if I called you she was never speaking to me again.”
“Fuck that. I’m coming.” I looked around for my keys. I hated hospitals more than odd numbers, but nothing could keep me from her.
“No! Please don’t.” Her tone was desperate. “Look, I called you because I knew you’d want to know, and I’m guessing she’ll eventually speak to me again after I tell her I did, but really—she’s got a bad enough headache right now. Whatever’s going on with you guys will have to get sorted out another time.”
My throat was squeezed so tight I didn’t know if I could even talk anymore. “OK. Thanks.”
We hung up, and I considered my next move for less than two seconds.
Skylar was hurt. I needed to be near her.
Despite the rain, I drove fast, praying hard that Natalie had been truthful with me and that Skylar’s injuries weren’t worse than she claimed.
At Munson, I parked and raced into the lobby without even hesitating outside the doors. Looking around wildly, I spotted the info desk and charged up to it. Once I got Skylar’s room information, I headed for the elevators, my stomach churning a bit at the hospital smell in the halls. Forget that. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is her. I forced myself to inhale deeply. Again, and again, and again. After a minute, one elevator door opened and Natalie stepped out.
“Sebastian.” Her eyes went wide. “What are you doing here?”
I squared my shoulders. “You have to let me see her.”
“She’s finally sleeping. Please don’t go up there now.”
My posture deflated a little. “Are you sure she’s OK?”
“Yes.” She looked at me, chewing on her bottom lip. “You look awful. What’s going on with you guys?”
“I fucked things up.” I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, not sure why I’d just blurted that out to Skylar’s sister but oddly relieved that I had. “I fucked things up and now she’s hurt and it’s my fault.”
“What? She slipped and fell, Sebastian. She was wearing ridiculously high heels and it was raining. How can that be your fault?”
Tears formed and I pressed a thumb and two fingertips over my eyes, embarrassed. “It just is. I know it.”
“Good grief. Come on.” She took me by the elbow and turned me around. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee. It won’t be as good as mine, but maybe it’s drinkable.” I let her steer me down the hall and around two corners, then over to a table in the near empty cafeteria. Dejected, I sank into a chair. “Don’t move,” she said.
I sat with my head in my hands, and a few minutes later she came back with two steaming white styrofoam cups and set them on the table. God, could I drink out of a hospital styrofoam cup? My skin crawled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She sat across from me. “Now spill. What happened?”
I shrugged and stared at my coffee. Where did I even begin?
She was quiet a minute, and I could feel her eyes on me. “I hope you don’t think she betrayed a confidence, but Skylar has mentioned your OCD to me.”
“I figured. I know you’re close.”
She picked up her coffee and blew across its surface. “Does this have anything to do with that?”
I sighed, feeling completely defeated. “Yes.”
More silence. “Do you have a therapist?”
“Yes. But I haven’t been honest with him about my relationship with Skylar. And I’ve been avoiding him for a month.”
“Why?”
I exhaled heavily. “Because when she told me she loved me, I relapsed, and I was too scared to admit it.”
She tilted her head. “Scared of what? Don’t you love her?”
I met her eyes. “Of course I love her. Look, I can’t even begin to explain the fucked up circuitry in my brain, but suffice it to say, I thought I was protecting her by saying nothing. By doing the things I did.” Solid thinking there, asshole.
Nodding slowly, she sipped her coffee. “What about now? Can you talk to him now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if he can help me.” I swallowed hard against the bitter bile rising in my throat, so sick and tired of that voice in my head I wanted to scream. Why wouldn’t it just leave me the fuck alone? “I don’t know if anyone can help me.”
“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Because Skylar is crazy in love with you, you know. Every other word out of her mouth is your name. And I don’t think she’s going to let you go.”
“I love her too. But she already left me, and she was right to do it.”
“Says who?”
The voice in my head. “Me.”
“You’re right. That is fucked up.” She sounded so much like Skylar, I looked up sharply. “Sorry if that’s harsh, but I agree with you. I’m the first person to say I think Sky’s a great catch, but she’s a handful too. Ever tried to share a bathroom with her? Good grief, she’s a slob. Makeup and hair shit everywhere. And her shoe collection—good grief! Those boxes! Good luck to any man who needs any closet space at all in her house.”