Page 43 of Two Weeks to Fall in Love

Two Weeks to End the Relationship

The sun had set and I was still curled up in bed. My mom checked in on me several times. The last time, she stayed and laid on my bed with me in silence. I knew the silence was bothering her.

Considering my overactive mind was inherited, I could only imagine what was going through hers. Eventually, I let out a deep sigh and turned to face her.

“There you are, sweetheart,” Mom said, and gently caressed my hair and my forehead. “What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with Melissa?”

I shook my head. What was I supposed to say? She didn’t even know how the whole dating Noah thing came to be. There was no point in trying to explain to her how badly I had screwed up.

“Am I a bad person?” I whispered after some time.

“Of course not, honey, why would you even say that?” Mom said, so sure in her words I almost believed her. Almost .

“What if I did something really bad?”

Technically, I didn’t do anything. But I’d wanted to. I’d planned to. I was the kind of person who would go into a relationship with someone just to find their flaws and expose them to the world.

Mom was quiet for a moment, and then she sighed. “Good people can do bad things sometimes. Most things are never so bad they’re unfixable.”

Lies . Things people told others when they didn’t want them to feel worse. People who did bad things were usually bad people. If they were good people, they wouldn’t have done bad things. And besides, fixing something doesn’t unbreak it. It doesn’t remove the cracks that you leave behind.

I turned again, facing my window, and my mom rubbed her hand up and down my back.

“I don’t know what happened with you and Melissa, but you’ll fix it. You guys always do.”

“Not Melissa,” I mumbled.

“Lily?” she asked, and then paused for a few seconds as I shook my head. “Noah?”

I froze. That was answer enough for her.

“Ah. Boy troubles. Well, that’s definitely something you can fix, my darling. I had so many fights with your dad when we were younger, and all it taught us was how to talk to each other,” Mom said reassuringly. But she didn’t know. This wasn’t something communication could fix.

When I didn’t reply, she let out a sigh and got off the bed.

“I’ll leave you alone, sweetie,” she said and even through my own hurt I could sense hers in those words.

“Mom,” I called, and she turned toward me. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened, one eyebrow raised. “Whatever for?”

“Being angry that you left me behind,” I said, pulling on a thick, stray strand of my hair with a little more vigor than usual, and for a moment confusion played across her face. Then realization set in. Then the guilt.

“Sky, sweetheart, we never left you—” she started, probably planning to tell the same story they always did. Grandma was so great with you and we didn’t want to uproot your life . I looked at her. Her eyes glistened, lips pressed together.

“Oh, Skyler, we did leave you behind,” she admitted for the first time, cautiously sitting on the edge of my bed.

Her voice sounded so small for someone so full of life.

“There were so many reasons that it made sense at the time, but it doesn’t change that we left and I will regret that until the day I die.

If I could turn back time, I would.” A tear had slipped down her cheek so I reached for her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze before she got herself even more worked up.

“I didn’t say that to guilt trip you. I just never actually said how I really felt and someone recently told me I should.

So, yeah, I was mad. I felt abandoned. And then when Grandma died, I felt like a burden.

Like I was the reason you had to stay home and be unhappy, and I was scared that if I said it out loud you would tell me I was right. ”

She pulled me into a hug instantly, a sob escaping her.

“Sky, you are the light of our lives. You are the best part of us and I’m so sorry that we ever made you feel less than.

When Grandma died, and I saw how much you were hurting, I realized I didn’t know how to help you.

Suddenly, you were this young woman and I . . .”

She pulled away slightly to look at me. Tears were in her eyes, but there was also something else.

A determination. “I know I made so many mistakes, both me and your father. We did the best we could, and I know that it was far from enough and that we can’t change the past. But we can change the future. ”

I nodded. “I’m not mad anymore, I guess I kind of get it now. Feelings are complicated and people make mistakes because of that. I read somewhere that people do the best they can with what they have. I don’t think I really understood it, but I think I’m starting to.”

It used to sound like an empty phrase to me, an excuse for people who did shitty things.

But it wasn’t an excuse, it just was how it was.

People were only capable of doing what was within their capabilities.

No one had the same circumstances, feelings, or traumas.

It was irrational to expect everyone to behave a certain way.

This realization made it easier to understand people, and perhaps that was one step toward something better.

“When did you become so smart?” Mom said, pulling me back into a hug and squeezing even tighter.

“Pretty sure I’ve always been this way,” I said with a smile.

Pretty sure life was black and white until I met Noah , is what I should have said.

Because that was the truth. He’d helped me realize so many things, without even trying.

In such a critically short time, he’d integrated himself into my life so much it was like a gaping hole was left inside of me.

“Maybe I just needed a reminder,” Mom muttered, and finally pried herself away from me. “Can we start over? I promise I’ll do better. We’ll do better.”

“Yeah, I’ll do better too,” I agreed, because I’d made my fair share of mistakes as well.

“How about a mother-daughter date after you make up with Noah? Spa, massages, nails,” Mom said, and nudged me. A shard stabbed through my heart, and my stomach churned. If she wanted to wait until I made up with Noah, then this outing was going to happen somewhere around never.

I did my best to smile. “I’d love that, Mom. I’m a little tired now, maybe I’ll take a nap,” I said.

“Of course, sweetheart, get some rest. I’ll call you for dinner,” she said, and stopped me when I tried to object. “Even if you’re not hungry.”

Then she kissed my forehead, lovingly ruffled my hair, and left. I was alone again. Alone with thoughts that seemed to physically hurt at this point. Tomorrow I would go to school and I would see him again. And then on Tuesday, it would be our last day, and we would break up.

Only I didn’t think I could wait until then. I didn’t think I could look him in the eyes, and hold his hand, and smile with this guilt pressing down on my heart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend.

Tomorrow I would tell him the truth. I would tell him the truth and I would break up with him and it would be over. Tomorrow.

*

It was always going to end this way. I knew that. I had made up my mind. Really, I had . This was something that had to be done.

But why, then, had I found it so hard to get out of bed in the morning? Why did I, like a coward, message Noah that Melissa would be driving me to school? Why had I been doing my best to avoid him all day? If this was the right thing to do how come it felt so deeply wrong?

Sighing, I dragged my feet to the next class.

It was like I was postponing the inevitable.

But it wasn’t just that. Even looking at Noah now felt wrong.

He didn’t know anything. The last thing on his mind was probably what I was about to do.

After all, our Saturday had been amazing.

It was way too painful to think about now. I had to draw a line somewhere.

“There you are.” Noah’s voice made me freeze on the spot. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Shit . I’d forgotten we had the same last class. I’d done such a good job of avoiding him during our other joint classes that I’d almost convinced myself I could avoid this confrontation all together. Squeezing my hands together to stop them from shaking, I looked up at him, trying to fake a smile.

“It’s just been a hectic day,” I said, and when I saw the relief on his face my heart broke. “Can we talk after class?”

His brow creased and he tilted his head. “Sure, what’s up?”

I looked up at him, still so blissfully unaware. Maybe I didn’t have to break up with him. Maybe I could make up for what I had planned to do. Maybe—

Christina bumped against me as she went into class. The look she gave me could have made hell freeze over. And it also made one thing exceptionally clear.

There was no making up for it .

“It’s just—I’ll tell you after class,” I muttered, doing my absolute best to avoid eye contact with him. And yet somehow, as if he was a magnet, my eyes still darted to him involuntarily. Desperately. And the look on his face made the stone on my chest that much heavier.

Noah seemed confused. Concerned. Which was understandable considering how I was acting.

Before he could say anything, I quickly brushed past him with my head down, found my seat, and kept my head firmly locked on the desk in front of me.

It stayed that way until class ended. And then the classroom emptied.

And I still sat there. In the silence.

“Skyler?” Noah said from right next to me, pulling me out of my daze.

Right . Time to get this over with. I got up. Walked past him and motioned him to follow. He was saying something but I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t talk. I just wanted to get this over with. Get back to my old life. How it was supposed to be.