Page 44 of Don't Speak

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I startle awake, as per usual. Blinking open my eyes, I take note of my surroundings.

Amelia lies next to me, completely unaware of my sudden wake-up call.

The bed is still surrounded by empty snack bags, and there are three empty bottles of wine on the nightstand.

The TV is still on, and the ‘Are you still watching’ message is displayed across the screen.

We must have fallen asleep at some point.

My head pounds, so I roll onto my side and stare at the wall.

The nightmare plays on repeat in my mind.

I miss the days when nightmares were always fictional stories my subconscious made up instead of forcing me to relive the most traumatic times in my life.

I never recovered from that day. I have never been able to get over her forcing me to do that.

It was the final betrayal. The moment my soul died.

I’ve been a broken shell since that moment.

The betrayal of a parent cuts deep. The bond you create with a parent is one that can never be replicated.

A mother’s love for her child is supposed to surpass that of all others.

They’re your first protector, your first love, your first person.

They can also be your first bully. She broke something in me I haven’t been able to get back.

I’ve built a wall so thick around my heart that I haven’t been able to let anyone in. I haven’t been able to feel—until Dean.

The mental mindfuck I constantly go through because of her is one that I wish I didn't have to endure. If I wasn’t good enough for my own mother, how am I supposed to be good enough for anyone else? If my own mother couldn’t love me enough to put me first, how can I expect that of anyone else?

I lost all of my friends because of her.

After she made me lie about what had happened, the case was dropped.

No questions asked. Of course, those at my church had already been subpoenaed to testify, so when they were told the case was closed, they were also informed of the reason.

My best friend wouldn’t speak to me again after that.

I lost my church family, even though none of them bothered to ask me about it.

I wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything anyway, but it still would have been nice to know they cared.

I still haven’t talked to her to this day about what happened.

In fact, she’s pretty much the reason I don’t speak to anyone I knew from high school.

I didn’t form any meaningful friendships after what happened.

My ability to trust anyone was decimated.

Except for the friend and her family I went to live with as part of the bribe.

During the four years I lived with them, I saw my mother less and less.

She remarried. Tried to get me to call him stepdad, too.

I said fuck that, and she didn’t push as hard this time. Eventually, she left it alone.

Amelia stirs next to me, and I roll over, facing her.

“Morning, buddy,” I say, greeting her with a smile.

She puts her arms above her head and stretches, yawning in the process.

“Morning. How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. Probably 20 minutes. I didn’t want to wake you, so I’ve just been lying here. Plus, I have a major headache,” I tell her.

As though my words register, she suddenly winces, and I suspect she is realizing she has one, too.

“How many bottles of wine did we drink last night?” she asks groggily.

I giggle before responding, “Three from what I can tell so far.”

“Yeah, that feels about right.” She palms her forehead before pinching the bridge of her nose.

We both roll out of bed, making our way to the kitchen. She heads to the medicine cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen while I head to the coffee pot.

“Thanks for last night,” I tell her, feeling extra grateful for our friendship this morning after last night.

“Anytime, buddy. You know that.”

“I know.” I walk over to her, throwing my arms around her in a hug. We hug for all of .2 seconds before we quickly depart, throwing around a few insults at each other in the process for the mushiness.

“Please be careful with this Dean guy,” she tells me. “I can tell you are different since being with him, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m being careful. I promise if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

We sit for a bit and chat a little longer before I pack all my things up and hug her goodbye.

“Let’s do this again soon, please. I really needed that,” I confess.

“Consider it done.”

I head out, excited to see Dean this morning. At that thought, I send him a text message.

Me: Good morning. I am on my way home. Can’t wait to see you.

Dean: Good morning, beautiful. Be careful. I’ll see you when you get here.

I put my car in reverse and back out of Amelia’s driveway, heading toward what I hope will be my future.

Dean is slowly chipping away at this wall.

I don’t know how he’s doing it. I can’t explain this pull I have to him.

I don’t know why I have let my guard down so much around him.

All I know is that I am so fucked if he turns out to be too good to be true.