Dylan shoved Haven away. She fell backward. Her arms and legs were sprawled out on the bed, and her nightgown was hiked up to her thighs. It barely covered her chest while it heaved up and down.
“You don’t want to hear the truth. You want to pretend like everything between us is great when you and I both know it’s not.”
Haven pleaded. “Then, let’s fix what’s wrong.” Her voice broke. Partly because she was angry, but more so because she loved someone who was absolutely no good for her. “You take a piece of me every time something like this happens.”
“I’m not responsible for that. That’s between you and God.”
Why was he talking to her like this? Haven couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “How can you say that? I would walk in front of a bus before I would be careless with your heart.”
Dylan pivoted and turned away. His words were bitter. “Like I said, I need a shower, and some of us have to go to work tomorrow.”
“So do I, but I’m willing—”
He turned, and the anger that radiated off of him was palpable. Dylan cut her off. “No, what I do is work. I bring home a paycheck that barely takes care of us. What you do is hang out with that old woman for pennies on the dollar and complain all the damn time! The person I was in love with had goals and ambitions. She wouldn’t have fallen apart because life got hard!”
“Is that what you really think of me? I work, and I’m in school full-time. I think that’s pretty ambitious.”
“You used to be fun . . . full of life. Not this person who can barely put one foot in front of the other and has wallowed so deeply in her pain I can’t even find her. So, don’t talk to me about being a stranger. I sleep next to a cold and frigid one every night!”
Haven had no idea where all of this was coming from. Yes, she did. He blamed her. “I’m doing the best I can, Dylan.”
His fiery eyes narrowed for a second before responding. “Truth? If I thought you wouldn’t kill yourself, I probably would have left a long time ago.”
Frozen in shock, her mouth fell open forming a perfectly shaped O. Haven could only stare in utter disbelief.
After a few awkward moments, Dylan turned away and went into the bathroom. A second later, she heard the shower come on.
Thoughts of all the pain she’d endured over the past couple of years, the sacrifices made, and the love she’d freely given went through her mind like a movie.
Haven couldn’t understand how, only moments before, she was wanting to feel his arms wrapped around her knowing full well he had probably been with another woman.
Was that how low she’d sunk? Was she really this empty and needy to accept all of Dylan’s trifling ways?
Haven wasn’t perfect. It had taken her quite a bit of time to get over her loss, but she’d thought Dylan would always be there for her as she would be for him. Was he right that she’d lost her light?
Like a zombie, Haven got up from the bed and went over to the closet. She pulled out two banged up suitcases. They were the same ones she’d used to pick up everything and uproot her life and move across the country to be with him.
There was no rhyme or reason to the packing. Haven started throwing clothes into the suitcases, mumbling to herself and barely able to see through her tears. As much as she loved Dylan, something within her broke. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Haven knew all along there was only one way this relationship was going end.
“I deserve better than this.” She stalked over to the dresser and snatched open a drawer pulling things out then stomped back over to the suitcases and tossed them inside. With every step, Haven’s rage grew.
As she leaned over, her dark curly hair fell into her face. Angrily, she pushed it back behind her ear. Still speaking to herself, the sound of her voice was unrecognizable. “I just can’t do it anymore.” She was afraid her entire body was going to shatter into a million pieces. Maybe she hadn’t been able to put one foot in front of the other . . . until now.
After stuffing both suitcases to capacity, she zipped them up. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, Dylan walked out of the bathroom at the exact moment she’d finished.
He actually looked surprised. “You’ve decided to try being dramatic? It’s not a good look on you.”
“No. I’ve decided to show you I can ‘put one foot in front of the other,’ and I promise, I won’t be killing myself.”
Dylan grunted as if he didn’t believe her. He went over to the dresser for a pair of pajamas. “The jury is still out on that. I’ll wait to be sure. In the meantime, you’ve earned your Oscar.” He shook his head. “You know you’re not going anywhere. Put the props away so that we can get some sleep.”
“You’re right. I’m not going anywhere. You are. This is your shit! I agree. I haven’t been myself for a while, but I’m taking steps to fix that now. You want Jocelyn, Stacey, Gina, and all those other hoes
