Out of Mind (Out of Line #3)(28)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“It’s not like that,” she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. “You were upset. Anyone would have—”

I slammed my hand down on the bar. From the corner of my eye, I saw her jump. Good. Maybe if I scared her more, she’d finally give up on me. I’d already given up on myself. “Anyone would not have done what I did. I’m not f**king normal, Carrie. I’m a mess, and all I can think about at any given time of day is drinking, pain pills, or dying. That’s all I care about anymore.”

“You care about me. Don’t pretend like you don’t. You can say it all you want, but I’ll see it for what it is. Another f**king lie.” She glared at me. “I can’t help you if you refuse to help yourself.”

Good. She was mad. When she cursed, I knew she was pissed.

“You’re right. You can’t, so stop trying to.” I set down a glass and filled it with whiskey. I didn’t even want the drink, but I had to make a point. Had to show her that right now, I wasn’t capable of being saved. She needed to physically see it to believe it. Lifting it up, I toasted her. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

She watched me as I downed the whole f**king drink in one swig, her cheeks flushing. Then her gaze snapped back to mine, flashing fire. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to let me go. I get a say, damn it. And f**k you for thinking I don’t. I’m not walking away because you think you’re too scary for me. You’re not. You’re just being an ass**le.”

“I know I am, damn it.” I laughed harshly, letting all my frustration and anger out on her. Because even though I knew this was the right thing to do, it was killing me. This conversation hurt more than the IED or the broken arm, or even my father dying. It. Fucking. Hurt. “Jesus, Carrie, do you see me right now? Do you even f**king see me?”

“Yes! I’ve never stopped seeing you. Never stopped loving you. I’ve been here, with you, this whole time!” She stalked across the room and shoved my shoulder. “And what do I get for it? This! You giving up on yourself. On us.”

I twisted my lips into a poor imitation of a smile. “Yeah, well, that’s me. I’m an ass**le. It’s how I was before you, and now I’m back to my old ways. Get used to it.”

She came closer, her eyes shining with tears and anger. So much anger. She looked like she was going to hit me again, and I wanted her to, because I deserved it so damn much. But she stopped short. “You’re upset and not thinking clearly. You need to put away the drink and go to bed. In the morning—”

“I’ll feel exactly the same.” I met her eyes, squaring my shoulders. It was time to really hurt her, and I didn’t want to. But if I could hurt her this one last time, she would be better off. Free of the emotional wreck I was. It was time to help her be happy again, because I never would be. “I can’t love you like this, and you can’t love me like this.” I paused, gathering up the nerve to say, “I don’t love you anymore, Carrie.”

She gasped and covered her mouth. I immediately wanted to take the words back. “Wh-What? Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t you dare say it again.”

Of course I didn’t mean it, but I’d say it anyway. I had to, for her. “I. Don’t. Love. You. Anymore. We’re done.”

Tears poured out of her eyes, and she shoved me backward. I stumbled this time, welcoming the pain it sent shooting up my arm. “You’re only saying that because you refuse to help yourself. You’re giving up. Lying to me again. We swore—”

“I swore a lot of things.” I forced a cocky grin. It hurt. “I lied to you, plain and simple. It’s what I do. But I’m not lying now. This isn’t about giving up. It’s about letting go. We’re over. The love is gone.”

“Finn…” she whispered, broken and hurt. “I don’t believe you.”

I poured another drink, hating myself for every single drop that went into it. Hating myself because I’d let it get to this. Let it go this far, when I should have never let her fall in love with me in the first place. We were f**king doomed from the start, and I’d known it. I’d just chosen to ignore it. Now, I was even more f**ked up than before.

She deserved better, damn it.

“Yeah, well, believe it.” I saluted her with the glass. “It’s over, Ginger. I’ve been faking feelings for you this whole week. I’m too tired to fake it anymore just so you don’t get hurt. I’m done protecting you.”

She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I can’t save you if you’re giving up.”

“I don’t want you to f**king save me!” I shouted. “I want you to leave me the hell alone!”

She backed up, her lower lip trembling. “Fuck you, ass**le.”

“And she finally sees the truth,” I drawled, my heart ripping in two. “It’s about damn time you accepted it.”

Tears poured down those smooth cheeks of hers, and her blue eyes were coated in moisture, making them brighter than usual. It went against every single instinct inside of me not to walk up to her and hug her. To not take it all back. She might not know it now, but I was doing her a favor. I had to remember that, even if it was too late to save her from the pain. I couldn’t regret loving her. Knowing her. So, no matter how selfish it might be, I didn’t regret the time we had together. I’d never love someone the way I loved her.

She’d always be the one for me. I just couldn’t be hers.

“Even so, I’m not giving up on you—but you need to fight, too. You’re going to realize this is wrong. You’re going to regret this, and I’ll forgive you. But you can’t say things like that to me and expect me to forgive that.” She reached for my hand. If she touched me, I’d be a goner. I’d lose my resolve to save her. “I love you, and I’ll always love you, but this isn’t okay.”

“Don’t say that,” I rasped, backing away from her. I ran my hand over my shaved head, wishing I could tug on my hair. Wishing I wasn’t me. “You need to forget this ever happened. Move on. This was all a huge mistake between us. Stop trying to be a rebel, and stop trying to piss off Daddy Dearest all the time. Marry a guy like Riley.”

I choked on the words. This wasn’t right. She was supposed to marry me.