“So we pissed off our parents for nothing? We hurt Dean for nothing?” I yell, grinding my teeth together as my cheeks dampen. Tyler pauses to listen. “All because you’re wimping out at the last second?”
“I’m not,” Tyler objects, finally deciding to talk again. He glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes pooling with an emotion I can’t quite figure out. “I just need space for a while. I’ll come back when I’m ready.”
“But I love you,” I whisper, not because I think it’ll change his mind, but because I want him to remember that when he walks out the door.
“And I need you,” Tyler breathes. It takes me by surprise, given the circumstances. It contradicts the fact that he’s claiming he doesn’t want to do this anymore, that he’s giving up. “And that’s the problem, Eden. The only reason I didn’t kick my dad’s ass earlier was because of you. Not because I knew the right thing to do was to walk away. And you know, when I was trying to get off coke, I was doing it for you and not because I had to do it to get on the tour. It’s like I need you in order to be okay, and I can’t live my life depending on you like that. I need to be able to want to do the right thing, to do it for myself and not for you, so I need some space without you for a while. I need to know that I won’t be like my dad, and as soon as I know that, I’ll come back.” His eyes are swollen, like he’s fighting back tears, and the only thing he can finish with is a pained whisper of, “I promise.”
Without explaining himself any further, he rests his head on the door frame, takes a deep breath, and then leaves. Just like that. He opens up my front door, throws me a gut-wrenching final glance, and walks out. He lets the door fall shut on its own behind him, and when I hear that awful click, it hits me even harder at that exact moment that Tyler just gave up. And I still don’t really know why.
The house is dark and silent and even slightly cold, and numbly I remain in my spot in the middle of the living room. Through the cracks in the blinds, I see Tyler’s car light up as his figure nears it. He slides into the driver’s seat, and I hear the thud of his door as he slams it shut. Then his engine. My throat tightens when I hear it growl to life. He’s really leaving, I think, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. His car pulls out onto the quiet road. And he drives away. He leaves.
My throat releases a pained whimper through my sobs as the car headlights race across the walls of the living room and then disappear. I feel so weak that I can no longer stand, so I reach around for the furniture to give myself a crutch as I move to the couch. I drop my body down onto it, pulling my legs up and holding them to my chest as I try to control my excessive trembling. I don’t know what to think.
How long is Tyler going to take to find his own willpower and strength? How long is it going to take for him to control them both? A few days? Weeks? Months? What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Put my life on pause and wait for him? Unfortunately, that can’t happen. Now I’ve got to face Dad and Ella on my own. I’ve got to deal with Dean on my own. I’ve got to handle Rachael and Tiffani on my own. Tyler has left me to deal with our mess all by myself. It was supposed to be us against the world, Tyler and me versus everyone else. Now it’s just me.
Out of nowhere, I hear Gucci’s paws on the hardwood flooring as she quietly pads over to me, still weeping a little from the pain Tyler accidentally inflicted upon her. She jumps up onto the couch, nudging my knee with her nose as though she’s concerned. It only sends a new batch of tears cascading down my cheeks. Reaching for her body, I pull her close and wrap my arms around her, burying my face into her fur. Don’t worry, I think, he hurt me too.