Driving Me Mad (29 page)

What’s next? School? My
relationship with my parents? With Trace? What the hell is wrong
with me that I can’t bear the thought of waking up in the morning
because I know it’s a start to yet another hellish day and I can’t
do it anymore!

“Brittany!” Trace shakes my
shoulders. “Did you hear me?”

I shake my head. I have zero
energy left to talk. There’s nothing more I want right now than to
crumble to the floor, curl up in a ball, and cry. I’m already
crying. All I need is to form a ball on the floor. Without even
trying, my body starts to slide.

“No, no, no,” Trace says,
grabbing me by the waist.

I blink through the tears to
see he looks almost as terrible as I feel. God, I suck at being a
girlfriend too! I sob and fall against him. “I’m sorry,” I cry.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. I
feel him take a deep breath, and then he’s pulling me out of the
bathroom and back to bed. He props me on the edge, but I fall to my
side, still crying like I’m crazy. “Britt, I need you to either
talk it through to me or give me something, so I can help you, damn
it. It’s too fucking early for this.”

His words stab me in the
heart. No shit. He’s not the only one who is tired of waking up
like this, but he doesn’t have to push his frustrations on me! I
roll over and pull the pillow over my head. It doesn’t help me get
any cooler, but at least I won’t have to look at him. Oddly enough,
this somehow forces me to regain control of my breathing. The
tears, however, are still coming strong.

I clutch the pillow,
pretending it’s my wrist. I hear Trace curse, huff, and then
silence. My heart is pounding so hard and loud, I swear I can hear
it in my own ears. My stomach hurts. I finally curl into a ball.
The bed dips, so Trace must be getting back into bed.

His voice sounds muffled as
he speaks to me. “Britt, talk to me. What’s it over today?”

“I don’t know. I don’t
freaking know!” I yell into the pillow, my body jostling as Lily
jumps onto the bed. “It’s everything!”

“What do you want me to do to
help?”

“
I. Don’t. Know!
” I
don’t mean to yell at him again, but I feel like I’m about to bust
at the seams. The tsunami wave of panic is swelling, growing
larger, and is about to come crashing down on me again.

“Then how the fuck am I
supposed to know?” His frustration is growing with me and I can’t
deal with it right now.

“Just leave me alone,” I
plead.

“Fine.” The bed moves again,
and the silence is consuming.

I have to move the pillow
because I can’t breathe. Trace isn’t in bed, but I can hear the
shower. Lily crawls up the bed like she’s in trouble and plops down
in front of me. I lay an arm around her and rest my forehead
against her shoulder. She makes me feel marginally better. I try to
close out everything except for Lily’s breathing and the feel of
her soft fur. She dozes off and starts to snore.

My heart rate falls back to
normal. How in the hell am I going to get out of this bed today? I
wish I had the option not to. I could lie here with Lily and not
get up unless I wanted to.

A few minutes later, Trace is
crawling back into bed, his hair wet and a fresh pair of pajamas
on.

“Lily, move,” he demands.

I frown as my sole source of
comfort moves to the foot of the bed. My eyes inevitably lift to
Trace’s. He’s moved to lie on his side, his gaze pinned to me. I
can’t read his expression and that in combination with earlier has
me worried.

“I’m sorry,” he finally
says.

“Me too.”

“We’re a barrel of issues
this morning. You’re overwhelmed by anxiety, which is driving us
both crazy, and you’re at your wits’ end and stressed. I’m
overwhelmed by depression, which is making me irritable, exhausted,
and tense with a short fuse. You won’t always be like this, and I
won’t always be like this.”

“I’d love you anyway.” If
this is what every single day of the rest of our lives would be
like, yeah, it would suck to have more bad days than good.
Regardless of how tough it is and what we’re going through, if I
was stuck with this Trace forever, I’d love him anyway. Bad days
aren’t what makes a person, and it won’t be what breaks him, or us,
either.

***

“
Y
ou took away my
comfort,” she says, glancing down at Lily.

“I thought I was supposed to
be your comfort.” I reach out to pull her against me.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t seem
like you’d be up for it,” she mumbles.

“You can always count on
me.”

“Always?” she questions.
There seems to be more weight to it than there should be.

“Always,” I confirm. I was
extremely frustrated earlier, but if she’d told me she wanted me to
hold her, I would have happily done so. “What time are your parents
coming again? Are we going out to eat or am I supposed to cook?”
She’s told me already, but I can’t remember which for the life of
me.

“They’ll be here around noon.
I’m leaving to meet them for lunch and to hang out with them. I
thought we’d go out to eat around six; you can meet us there.”

I’m not sure which is better.
To go out where other people are around and there’s less pressure,
or if it’d be better here at my home where they can see me more as
a regular person dating their daughter? Then again, having it here
could be harder. They may not so easily see me as a regular
person.

Brittany reaches up to pull
my hand away from my neck. “I can’t wait to say I told you so,” she
says with a little smile.

“Me too. Feeling any better?”
She shakes her head, and I sigh, “Me either.” The best way to
describe it would probably be that you simply feel terrible for a
prolonged period of time. Not much can make you happy, make you
smile or laugh, or make you feel positive. You can be logical all
you want, but it doesn’t change the fact of how you feel. I’ve been
dwindling at a steady pace since Vegas.

“Listen,” Brittany begins. My
stomach starts to churn even though I have no idea what she’s going
to say. “My parents are good at reading people. Try to be as
genuine as possible; don’t try to hide your mood. It’ll be better
that way.”

“All right.” Though I’m not
sure how it’ll be better.

“They already know about your
depression, so it’s not like it’ll catch them by surprise if you
don’t smile as widely or laugh as much.”

I pull away from her, my
eyebrows pulling together. “They already know about it?” My own
father doesn’t know, and she’s told her parents.

She nods. I stay quiet,
waiting for her to explain, and she does once she realizes I’m not
going to say anything. “Well, when I went to them, I had to tell
them
something
, and it kind of came up.”

All I do is nod. It’s not
like I can make her take it back. We lie in bed for a while longer
until Brittany insists on getting up to cook breakfast once she’s
showered. I doubt either of us are hungry, but if she needs to do
it, then I won’t stop her. I’m not helping her, though. I go from
my bed to my recliner, Lily choosing to stay close to Brittany
instead of me. I wonder if that’s a sign of who needs her more.

My phone rings in my pocket
and I reluctantly pull it out. There’s two people who might be
calling me. Faith, to check on Lily, which she’s only done twice
since I’ve had her; or my dad. Neither of whom do I want to talk
to.

“Hey, Dad,” I answer
anyway.

“Hey, Trace. I figured I’d
call and see how you were doing since I haven’t heard from you
since my visit.”

“I’m doing well. Been
working, went on a short trip to Vegas, and taking care of Lily
because Faith couldn’t keep her anymore.”

The mere mention of my
ex-wife has my dad’s full attention. “You’ve talked to Faith? How
did that go? Are you still with that young’un?”

I wince. “She’s not a
young’un
, and yes, I’m still with her. Faith had to get rid
of Lily because she was moving in with her boyfriend who has a
daughter with allergies.” Maybe he’ll finally let it go if I tell
him that Faith is happy and with someone now.

He tsks and I can practically
see him shaking his head in disappointment. “You sure messed up
with that one.”

“Well, it’s over and done
with. How are you and Amy?” I don’t have the patience to hear him
berate me for a failed marriage that ended years ago.

“We’re good. A little upset
that you can find the time to go to Las Vegas, but can’t visit us,
but we’re good.”

I pinch the bridge of my
nose. Something in me just snaps. “Maybe if you’d get off my
fucking back and quit being condescending and irritating every damn
time I talked to you, you’d hear and see me more often. While we’re
at it, Faith has moved on. I’ve moved on. We’re as over as can be.
Let it go! Is that really too much to ask?”

“Trace!”

I ignore Brittany and wait
for my father to say something. There’s only silence on the other
end. I’m not taking it back, I’m not apologizing, so I sure as hell
hope he isn’t waiting for that.

“Fine,” he eventually says.
“I’ll make this easy for you. If you want to talk, you can call.
Otherwise, I won’t bother you.” He hangs up without another
word.

I pull the phone away from my
ear and stare at it in disbelief.

“Aren’t you going to call
back?” Brittany asks softly, gathering that he hung up.

“No.” I toss it onto the
couch. “I’ll save that for another day. Breakfast ready?”

She wants to say more, but
instead, she nods. I’m not hungry, but I get up to eat anyway. Just
another day of going through the motions.

Somehow, seeing Brittany
standing next to her parents, holding her wrist, and searching for
me relaxes me. She relaxes a little in turn when she sees me
walking toward them, her lips breaking out into a smile. I’m
surprised, though, when she walks briskly over to me. Her arms slip
around my waist.

“Hey,” I laugh.

Her eyes seem bright from the
nearby lights of the restaurant. “Hey. You’re here.”

“Did you think I wasn’t
coming?”

“No, but I’ve still been
waiting to see you. C’mon.” She grabs my hand and leads me over to
her parents. “Mom, Dad, you remember Trace.”

I stick my hand out to shake
their hands. “Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts.” Her
dad’s handshake seems more firm than I remember.

“Please call us Jane and
Ray,” her mother says, and I nod.

“Well, let’s go inside,” Ray
says. He holds the door open for everyone and it feels weird to
step inside before him. Manners dictate I should be last.

We don’t have to wait long
for a table. As we get settled in our seats, Jane says, “Can you
believe after all the times we’ve had to hear about the fried
pickles at this place, Brittany has never brought us here?”