I walk in and find Sarah leaning over her kitchen sink, crying. It all but breaks me. But I’m not willing to show her that.
"We need to get you a chain or something for this door."
She stares at me for a minute and I swear I see something flash through her eyes. Humor, maybe?
"You’re hurting me," she cries. Nope, definitely not humor. "Just you being here physically hurts."
"I’m not trying to hurt you, Sarah. But you should know it’s excruciating for me to stay away."
Her shoulders fall and she drops her chin to her chest as tears once again begin to flow from her eyes. "I hate you so much," she chokes out.
"Well, I love you enough to supersede that," I respond more honestly than I have ever been in my life.
"No, you don’t. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have played me for the last two months. Lying and filling my head with bullshit at every turn."
"I omitted. I never lied to you, ángel. Well, maybe once. I hated Vanilla Sky." I grin. It’s lost even on me why I’m making jokes right now, but I can’t seem to stop. If I can just lighten the mood, maybe she will come around. And I desperately need her to come around right now.
"Is this a fucking joke to you? Are you getting off on watching me fall apart? You enjoying the show, Leo?" She grabs the plate on the counter and hurls it across the room, shattering it against the wall. "There! Is that better for you? Is this what you wanted all along—a front-row seat to see Crazy Sarah Erickson firsthand? Well, here she is!" She moves to the cabinet and pulls out another plate, which quickly joins its mate broken on the floor.
"You’re not crazy, Sarah. You’re mad. I get it. I really fucking do. I’m sorry I wasn’t more up-front with you. But—"
"But what? Waiting for me to lose it was more entertaining?" She throws another plate at the wall and finally…fucking finally, I lose it too.
"You want crazy, Sarah?" I walk to the kitchen to join her, grabbing a mug from the open cabinets. "I’ve found coffee cups to be more gratifying." I throw it as hard as I can against the wall. "You are not the only person in the fucking world who has issues. If you want to talk crazy, let me tell you a little fucking story."
I grab another coffee cup and send it flying. "I know Erica because, while I was working undercover for the DEA, I stood outside her door and allowed over eight men to rape her."
Sarah stumbles back a step, her look of horror matching the way I feel inside. I snatch up another cup and throw it.
"I was so riddled with guilt that I couldn’t breathe at night. I became obsessed with making it up to her, even despite the fact that it was in her best interest to remove myself from the situation. She was scared of everything back then, and in some sick way, I loved it because it gave me a purpose and silenced her screams that were constantly ringing in my ears."
Sarah throws her hand to cover her mouth.
"Yeah. Crazy, right?"
The last two coffee cups go flying across the room.
"Oh, but wait. I’m just getting to the good part. When she and Slate got married, I was devastated. I was never in love with Erica, but I needed her. We spent three years in the Witness Protection Program together. And the moment she moved in with Slate, all the shit I had done came storming back into my head. It was too much. I decided to kill myself—the day before her wedding."
Sarah’s eyebrows pop up.
"One hell of a way to say sorry, huh? But I was too fucked up to even realize it."
Tears stream down her face. My heart is racing, but the dam has been opened. I can’t stop now. I move to her bowls, slinging one over my shoulder into the pile of broken dishes on the floor.
"Slate found me before I had the opportunity to follow through with my plan. Johnson drove me straight to Building Foundations and forced me inside. It just so happens that it was the day you gave your goodbye speech. You remember that one, right? When you bared your soul to a room full of strangers just to give them hope. You don’t know this, but there’s a reason why I call you ángel. Sarah, your words saved my life."
"Oh my God," she breathes.
"That’s it. That’s all I’ve got." I shrug and throw one last plate at the wall. "Oh, wait. And I love you. I love you despite it all, and now, I’m standing here, begging you to love me despite it all too." I run my hands through my hair and wait for her to respond.
However, she doesn’t move a muscle. Her eyes stay glued to me, but I’m not completely sure she’s even breathing. It becomes unnerving.
"Please say something," I whisper.
Her silence wounds me deeper than her words ever could.
"I SHOULDN’T have come here," Leo mumbles as he turns to walk away.