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“Is that so?” He runs his hand along his jaw, and that’s when I see my father’s wedding band on his finger.

My chest rips wide open, dumping burning acid down my ribs and into my gut. He sees me staring at the ring, and he cracks a cocky grin. I’m shaking—every inch of my body wants to murder this piece of shit. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and when I curl my fist and swing, I clip his chin, catching him by surprise. His eyes go black, and he barrels his knuckles into the side of my face, blinding me temporarily.

The impact knocks me back and into the barstools, but in the very next second, I’m launching myself at him, throwing punches. Falling to the ground, my fury erupts. Blow after blow, we take our shots as everything spins out of control. I manage to get on top of him and hammer my fist into his mouth, busting his lip open before he grabs my shirt and shoves me off of him, slamming my back against the edge of the bar.

Burning fire shoots up my spine, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. I hiss in pain, and when I open my eyes, he’s standing over me.

“Kurt!”

My mother runs in, dropping a bag of groceries all over the floor and pulling him by the arm. She doesn’t even acknowledge me as I push my chest off the floor and sit up. She’s too busy inspecting Kurt’s face and asking him what’s going on.

As he gives her some bullshit answer, I cut in, yelling, “Why?”

She looks at me crumpled on the floor. “What has gotten into you?”

“Why did you give him Dad’s ring?”

All she does is stare. She says nothing—nothing.

“Why?” is all that is left of me, and I hate myself for the tears that fall down my face.

She steps away from Kurt but won’t come closer to me as I remain on the ground staring up at her, desperately needing her.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Her words are strangled in her pain, but I hang on to them because I can’t do this anymore either. She begins crying and for the first time in a long time, I have hope that maybe she is coming to her senses. “I’m so tired of all this chaos.”

“I am too.”

“I want to move on. I need to heal and get on with life.”

Her words are my very thoughts and I truly hope she is at her end with all of this so we can both escape this nightmare. She turns to look at Kurt, but when her eyes come back to mine, there’s something in them that scares me. She’s hesitant, but she goes on to say, “I can’t stop living in the past when my past lives with me.” Her voice cracks. “I’ve tried so hard, but it hurts to look at you when all I see ishim.”

Confusion has me shaking my head. “What are you saying?”

She stalls and then takes Kurt’s hand. “This is me, trying to move on—wantingto move on.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

Without another word, they walk out of the room.

The jagged edges of the love I used to feel from her dig into the core of my soul—the soul she used to take care of but has thrown away as if it never meant anything to her.

This must be what a broken heart feels like.

The sound of her bedroom door closing severs something inside me. I stand, unsure of what to do or where to go, but one thing is for sure, I’m not living here anymore. I go up to my room and take a look around at all the memories, but that’s all they are—faded fractions of what life used to be.

I pull down a large duffle bag from my closet and start throwing things in. I’ll come back for the rest after I figure out what I’m going to do.

Right now, I just want to leave, but not before tossing in the rest of the bottles from the liquor cabinet. There aren’t many left, but I take them anyway before going out to my car. I wind up parking at the school and getting drunk. For hours, I sit and wonder where it all went wrong. Questions manifest, one after the other, and I drink to make them go away because I have no answers.

Flipping down my mirror, the tiny light shines on my swollen face. My eye is badly bruised and both of them are entirely bloodshot.

Drinking and crying.

Crying and drinking.

How is it that I’m left with just one person in my life when there used to be so many surrounding me? I’m so undeserving of her. After the years of shit I gave Harlow, she’s found something in me worthy enough to put it all aside and forgive me. It’s something that I will never stop being thankful for.

I don’t remember starting my car, but I’m driving down the street, and when the light changes to green, I don’t even recall it being red.