Page 153 of Hate You Up Close

But I also can’t give her this version of me. She deserves so much better.

So starting today, I’m making changes. First, I’m going tostart with cleaning up my apartment, pouring every liquor bottle down the drain, and going to my first A.A. meeting.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve turned to alcohol to deal with my emotions. But it’s time to man the fuck up and truly deal with the shit that’s been holding me back for years.

For once in my life, I’m going to fight for me.

And then, I’m going to fight for her. I’m going to thank her, worship her every day for bringing me back to life.

Just when I thought I had hit rock bottom, Roxanne Taylor stepped into my office and saved my life.

THIRTY-ONE

Roxy

It’s been a little over a week since Elliot shut me out, and I feel like I’m dying. It’s as if my heart beats a little slower with each minute that passes. I understand that he needs his time, and I’m trying my best to be patient. But by now, I thought he would have at least texted to let me know that he’s okay.

I’ve called and messaged him so many times that I’m starting to feel pathetic. I’m barely hanging on by a thread. Every time my phone dings, I pray to God that it’s him. And every time that it isn’t, my heart floods with disappointment.

I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him. I wonder if he feels like he’s drowning, and the only way up for air is to swim to me. Because that’s exactly how I feel. I’m sinking…floating to the bottom with no glimpse of the sun.

Knock. Knock.

I inhale a sharp breath as two firm knocks come from my door, pulling me from my thoughts. My gaze snaps up to find Everett standing in the doorway of my office.

I blink a few times, just to make sure that he’s actually here.

What the hell is Everett doing in my office?

“Hey,” he mutters. A sad smile curves his lips.

God…Just seeing Elliot’s features in him is like a knife to my heart.

I miss him so damn much.

“Hi,” I stammer, completely shocked that Everett’s here.

“Do you, uh…Do you mind if I sit?” he asks hesitantly, nodding his head toward the chair across from my desk.

I shake my head.

“No,” I reply lowly. “Not at all.”

“Thanks,” Everett breathes before walking in and taking a seat. “Elliot told me that you’d be here.”

Elliot.

The mention of his name has every nerve in my body coming alive.

My heart drums against my chest and my palms grow sweaty as we sit in silence. I have no idea why he’s here, or what he’s about to say.

Finally, Everett inhales a shaky breath and meets my worried stare.

“How are you holding up?” he asks in a quiet tone.

I swallow thickly and shake my head.

“Not well,” I answer honestly.