Page 98 of Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake
“Lizzie, I’m sorry. But don’t throw away all we’ve built over this one thing. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yeah?” she said, not bothering to look at him while she shoved more things in a bag. “How’s that?”
Rake was at a loss for words. His entire life seemed to be spinning out of control in a tornado around him, and he couldn’t grab on to any of the pieces and make them still.
“I uprooted my entire life for you. Isn’t that enough?”
Lizzie stopped, dropping her bag and fixing him with a look that made his heart twist painfully.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t you fucking dare. I gave you an out. You moved here for your own conscience. To heal your damaged little ego over a woman who cheated on you. Don’t put that on me. I’ll make this perfectly clear: I don’t need you. I don’t need your money, or your job, or your apartment, or your support, or anything else. All I needed was for you to care.”
Rake was silent, frozen to the spot.
Say something, his brain screamed at him.Fix this.
But he shut down, all ability to form words completely lost. The familiar feelings of shame and inadequacy and heartbreak—all the things he’d felt when Shannon left—came flooding back to him. Immobilizing him.
Without another word, Lizzie picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked out of their apartment.
Chapter 43
LIZZIE spent most of Saturday night and all of Sunday sobbing and FaceTiming with Harper and Thu while Indira spooned her and rubbed comforting circles on her back.
“Fuck him,” Thu said on repeat, throwing in threats of bodily harm every few hours to keep things spicy. Harper, for her part, created a broken heart playlist for Lizzie at record speed, and Lizzie listened to it on loop while she wailed.
“I feel like such an idiot,” she said through choked sobs.
“You’re not,” Indira said gently.
“Iam,” Lizzie said. “I let myself develop feelings for him when I knew from the start it would be a disaster, that I would ruin it. I break every relationship I touch.”
Indira was quiet for a moment, her lips pursed. “Lizzie, what relationships have youactuallyruined? And don’t say your parents because you and I both know that is on them, not you.”
Lizzie sniffed, having trouble thinking of one.
Indira pounced on the silence. “You see, I can’t think of one you’ve ruined all on your own. Look at the friendships you have. Harper, Thu, and I love you an unhealthy amount. Seriously, it’s almost obsessive.”
Lizzie let out a wet laugh.
“And I know things aren’t perfect with Ryan, but from what you’ve told me, you’re both trying. And you get on great with Mary. And Bernadette? That old lady thinks you’re a star.” Indira visited Bernadette’s regularly, always taking a few minutes to talk with Bernadette about how everything was going.
“Do you want my opinion?” Indira asked, playing with Lizzie’s tangled hair.
“Always,” Lizzie said, wiping her nose on her T-shirt. “You’re a literal psychiatrist.”
Indira smiled at that. “I think you’ve heard a story about yourself for a very long time. I think the people that were supposed to love you the most actually hurt you the most. I think you were told so many times that you were destructive that you came to believe it. And I think it’s always stopped you from pursuing relationships. The loving, romantic kind that you deserve.”
Lizzie opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Am I saying you’re perfect? Of course not,” Indira continued. “And I’m not invalidating the struggles and obstacles your ADHD presents, that would do you a disservice. But what I am saying is, just because your brain works differently from neurotypicals, it doesn’t mean you deserve to be valued any less. It doesn’t mean your love is a burden or a liability.”
Lizzie turned this over. Indira’s point felt dangerous. Scary. Like maybe if she started accepting that she deserved to be loved, she’d consciously start wanting it…
Who the hell was she kidding? Of course she wanted to be loved. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to love and be loved in return.
“But if what you’re saying is true, then why would Rake let Dominic talk about me like that?”
“Because Rake is what we call emotionally constipated,” Indira said with a small smile. “Just like sometimes you say or do the wrong thing, Rake definitely said and did the wrong thing.It doesn’t excuse it, but his shitty response doesn’t reflect on your worth.”