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bernardsbendystraws · 10 months ago

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𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎ mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

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Chapter 17: Half empty, half full, completely broken.

As my eyes squinted open, a slight pout formed on my lips.

Where is he?

Pine and spices flooded my senses as I tugged his sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. Reaching over and out of the warm blankets, I grab my phone.

[From Matt: I’ll be back in a bit, dw I’ll bring back cookies]

I smile looking down at the sweet words. My stomach flows with excitement as I shift upwards, resting my back against the headboard as my mind lets more conscious thoughts wander in.

My phone vibrates, grabbing my attention from the daydream of his silky hair wrapped in my fingers.

[From Nate Doe: Hey, Matt ain’t answering…y'all still coming today?? I’m gonna fucking need the moral support from my boy, quit hogging him.]

I could practically hear the thick accent through his text. A light laugh escapes my lips as I like his message.

Today was the engagement party. Nate’s mom and Jefferey’s dad were getting married. Soon-to-be stepbrothers.

Nate was not happy about it. He didn’t like Johnny, Jefferey’s dad. He thought he was bad news, along with Jeffrey himself. I didn’t necessarily like Johnny, but he also hadn’t really done anything that truly made me distasteful towards him. But, then again, Jefferey had to get his behavior from somewhere…

A knock on the door sounds as I look up from my phone, Matt’s head peeking in with the bag of chocolate cookies in hand. A soft smile falls quickly from his lips, making my head fill with curiosity as he wanders inside the door threshold, shutting the door behind himself.

His eyes avoid mine as the bed shifts down with his weight falling onto the mattress. “Matt?” I question. He hums in response, still avoiding looking at me. I pat his shoulder, making his eyes flicker up to mine. The slight smile threatens to fall from my face.

“Nate texted,” I explained. His lips tug to the side, waiting for me to continue. “--he, um, he asked if we were still going to the party today. He said,” a slight laugh falls from my lips, his face forming a small smile. “--he said that I need to stop ‘hogging’ you.” I say.

Matt eyes softly close, shaking his head with amusement. “Unfortunately,” he starts, “--we’ll be there…let’s just hope Nate can hold back from punching Jeffery…again.” I laugh at his statement, recalling the incident he had explained to me.

Apparently, when Nate first found out they started dating, Jeffery loved to rub the term ‘brother’ in his face. But, he had caught Nate on an extra bad day when he decided to do a ‘prank,’ having all his ‘football bros’ ditch hockey practice.

Nate was furious to say the least. Then, when he had came home to Jeffery fucking around in his room, he lost it. Jeffery loved to taunt how Nate couldn’t kick him off the team.

Sure, he couldn’t kick him off the team, but he sure could punch him in the face.

It had happened a while ago, before I even knew him. The story still managed to make me laugh, especially seeing the damage Nate had done to the ugly face. Somehow–the bruise made him look better.

“I, uh,” his words brought me out of my daze. “--I need to–”

His phone starts blasting with his ringtone, a loud huff escaping his lips. He grabs his phone. With one aggressive tap on the screen, he declines Nate’s call.

“I talked to–”

Another blast of his ringtone sounds, Nate’s profile picture glowing up on his screen. I laugh at the incessant notifications, grabbing his phone and tapping on the green ‘accept.’

“Heyyyyy,” I laughed into the phone. Nate’s loud groan echoes into my ear, making the giggles spill from my lips. I look over to Matt, his face painted with something close to concern. My smile falters for a second, but as soon as he leans his head onto my shoulder, I relax into his hand caressing the side of my waist.

“Ugh! Where’s ma mannnnn? This shits gonna start soon, I need my goddamn Matty-bear.” Nate says. Matt grips onto my side tightly, rubbing his thumb along my clothed waist. I hum out a giggle. I bring my free hand up to his hair, combing through the silky strains as I feel him deplete with relaxation further into my body.

“Our Matty-bear will be there, Nate.” I say. Matt turns his head up towards me. A confused look plastered over his face makes me laugh, mumbling a goodbye to Nate before the line falls dead.

“Our Matty-bear?” he repeats. I laugh, nodding my head with a sly grin as he shakes his head with a soft smile.

“Mhm,” I let out. “--our Matty-bear.” I replied. The disapproving look on his face sends a shot of giggles through my stomach. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” I laugh out. Biting in my bottom lip, I suck in a giggle. “I–I’ll stick to calling you hot-stuff, don’t worry.” I joke.

He lets out a loud huff, burying his face into my stomach. I chuckle at his reaction, petting over the top of his head as he clutches his hands into my shirt. “Mmm..I don’t mind that, I guess.” he answers.

I let out a soft laugh, pushing him off of me lightly. He pouts, reaching out once more. Shaking my head, I stand up from the bed. “Matt, we have to get ready and go!” I urge.

He huffs, shuffling to his feet with hunched shoulders. “Fine,” he says. With a slagged walk, Matt paces over to his closet. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear?” he asks.

I walk over behind him, pointing to my hanging sundress. It was a new edition to my closet, finding its way into Matt’s room somehow before I had even worn it out. “I’m wearing this.” I admit.

Matt’s face slowly turns backward, his eyes bulging. “Oh, um…” he clears his throat, “--you’ll look very pretty in–um–that.” he says, clearing his throat again mid sentence.

“Thanks.” I mumble through a questioning giggle. I reach forward, grabbing the article of clothing off of its hanger. I throw it onto the bed and start to strip from my clothes on my body. Matt’s face stays trained to the inside of the closet. His hand scratches at the back of his neck as he shuffles through the hangers.

As I adjust the dress on my body, I walk up behind him once more. I place a hand on his shoulder. His eyes darted towards me, falling over my figure briefly. I giggle, watching his cheeks flush as he averts his gaze back into the closet. I reach forward with both hands, shifting through the hangers.

“Hmm…” I hum, browsing through his clothes. “Oh!” I let out, grabbing the purple sweater that I had worn more times than I could count on both hands. I look down at my dress, the pale yellow fabric coated with dainty lavender flowers as the design. “--we can match!” I exclaim.

“Yes, absolutely yes.” he says, grabbing the soft material from my hand. He throws it onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. My hands reach out before I can stop them. I caress over the black ink on his arm. “Like ‘em, baby?” he says, a subtle smile apparent in his voice.

I nod, looking up to find his somber eyes gleaming down at me with adoration. “A lot.” I admit proudly. His hand reaches upward, his fingers brushing gently against my jaw before cupping my cheek. I lean into his touch mindlessly. My skin pulses at the warmth of his calloused fingers caressing gently.

“I like you,” he says softly. He leans down, his forehead resting down on mine as our eyes meet with pure emotion. “--I love you.” his voice sounds with a soft tone, barely above a whisper.

My heart clambers in my chest, a pounding of enticing purpose nearly echoing into my ears. “I love you…I love you so much.” I say. The vulnerable words fall like water from my lips. My chest heaves with a lighter weight, a sense of relief brought to my senses from the confession.

“Hmmm…” he breathes out. He lets his hand caress the hairs out of my face as he backs up. He pulls on a plain white T-shirt, following with tugging the purple sweater over his head, completely ignoring the buttons stitched in the flimsy fabric.

Adjusting the position of the top, he pats down on it. He lets his hands drop to his sides with a soft pat on his jeans. “Good?” he asks, looking up with approval-seeking eyes.

I nod firmly, letting my arms reach out, circling around his waist. His arms stay stiff above mine in shock for a split second, falling with a comforting weight around the tops of my shoulders. I feel his palm clasp around the back of my head.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he asks.

I nod my head affirmatively in his chest. “Mhm…” I hum. “--just like hugging you.” I mutter.

The gentle rumble of his chest syncs with his soft chuckle. I feel him squeeze me tighter against him. “I love hugging you. I love you.” he says.

I blush, pulling my face from his chest. I look up at him, letting my eyes squint up at his grin-covered face. My lips part slightly, a brief sound barely escaping my lips. “--I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll never get tired of saying that.” he says.

I pull my lips together tightly, shoving my face back into his chest. “I love you. Now, let’s go before your boyfriend calls again.” I joke.

I let my arms fall to my sides, smoothing out my dress. “You look fucking gorgeous….I…I can’t believe you’re mine, god.” he breathes out.

My cheeks burn with his honey coated words. I push at his chest playfully. “Yeah, yeah.” I sigh out.

He grabs my hands in his own, tugging me down and sitting me on the bed. I land in the pillowy comforter, the slit of my dress widening upward. Matt shuffles over to his closet, pulling out the heels I had brought over specifically for this event.

I sit up straighter as Matt kneels in front of me. He opens the shoe box, pulling out one of the heels.

The nude heel is simple, a dainty gold clasp around the ankle strap. Matt slides his hand underneath my left foot. He leans down, his lips placing a gentle kiss on top of my foot.

“--so fucking perfect.” he breathes out.

I feel the cold sole of the kitten heel replace his hand. His fingers adjust the shoe, clasping the ankle strap. His thumb massages over my ankle, slowly sliding down before falling on the ground.

Grabbing the other shoe, he repeats the same routine. My stomach fills with butterflies watching his lips pucker against my skin, trailing halfway up my calf before he brings himself back to the task at hand. He clasps the shoe.

As he shifts his weight backward, his hand slides up my exposed thigh from the slit of my dress. His fingers stutter along my skin, hesitating. I reach down, pulling his hand upward to just beneath the slit of my dress on the middle of my thigh.

Matt leans forward, letting his weight fall to the ground gently. His head pushes up against my knee. I let my hand wander down, softly combing through his hair. He lets out a hum of contentment, turning his head and planting an open-mouthed kiss on my knee. My stomach clenches as his icy blue eyes look up at me, the sound of his wet lips kissing around my knee sending sparks of anticipation to my gut.

The sound of his phone blasting his ringtone echoes abruptly, making a laugh fall from my lips as he sighs in frustration. I grab his phone off his bed, Nate’s contact filling the screen. “It’s your boyfriend.” I joke.

He shakes his head against my knee. Reaching up, he grabs the phone. He pulls it up to his ear. “We’re on our way, chill.” he spits grumpily. He brings the phone down, slapping his finger over the red button. I hear Nate mumble from the other side, a threatening tone making my shoulders rack with laughter.

Matt slowly gets up, standing and offering me a hand. I slide mine in his. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he says.

I knew he was gonna be here.

My dad stood next to Johnny and his son, slapping a hand down on Jeffrey's shoulder as their loud laughter shot needles into my ears. Why could that never have been me?

His hands hadn’t shown me any fond gesture that measured even close to the amount of joy plastered on his face looking at the idiot jock. What did he have that I didn’t?

Jeffery was stupid. He didn’t get the best grades, always cheating and asking other people for answers. He was okay at football. He wasn’t better than the rest of the team, that wasn’t why he was captain. He was captain because he made it known out of school it was his role and no one could take it from him.

I learned that when rounding the corner at school at the wrong time.

A sophomore football player, who was significantly better than Jeffery, wanted to become captain. He didn’t get the role to say the least. All he got was a black eye and dirty looks from the entire team until he quit.

Then he transferred schools due to the bullying.

Then, leading as football captain at Northville High, his school won against ours by a plethora of points.

It was fucking funny.

I had laughed in Jefferey’s face after that game as he tried to ask me out again.

But, I wasn’t laughing anymore.

This wasn’t funny.

Matt’s arm squeezes around my waist. I flicker my eyes over to his, seeing a concerned emotion laced in his features. “--you okay? We can go soon if you want.” he offers.

Pulling my lips to the side, I shake my head. I let my eyes wander back to the sore sight of the three men laughing obnoxiously, my heart clenching with disappointment and insecurity. “It’s fine. How much longer is this anyhow?” I ask, reverting my attention back to the people standing across from us.

Nate, Chris, and Nick are all enveloped in their own conversation as we lean against the corridor. Nate’s mom, Reagan, is visible through the corridor. I watch as her hands flail down, patting the apron tied around her waist as she huffs with frustration.

I unravel Matt’s arm from my waist. He looks down at me, questioning my actions. “Hold on, I’m gonna go help Nate’s mom. Stay here, I’ll be back eventually.” I say.

Matt shakes his head, letting his foot shift with weight as I take a step forward. His hand gently brushes along my arm. “I can come with–”

I cut him off, holding up a hand. “Stay here. I kinda want a breather and Nate will cause havoc if I steal his boyfriend again.�� I half-joke.

He purses his lips, nodding in agreement. I laugh, turning around and letting my kitten heals pummel on the wooden floor. I nearly trip over the subtle elevation once I stand on the tile flooring. The clamber of the clicks of my heels draws Ms. Doe’s attention.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I flatten out my dress. “I, uh, do you need help?” I offer.

She gives me a small smile, nodding with a grateful huff. “Please.” she says. I let out a nervous laugh, walking over to her side. She offers me the spatula, a bowl of brownie batter sliding over to me. “If you could just finish stirring that–that would be great. Thank you so much, you can call me Regan by the way.” she finishes.

I nod affirmatively. “Of course, this looks really overwhelming, I don’t know how you were doing it all by yourself. Geez.” I let out.

“Yeah, me either, well…I was supposed to have help, but,” she nudges my shoulder. I look up, following her gaze as I see Johnny and Jeffery side-by-side with my dad hunched over with laughter. “...well, yeah. My help ain’t helping, to say the least.” she says.

My eyes fog at the sight of my dad. He’s lost in a fit of chuckles, ones I didn’t recognize. Ones I never got to hear for myself. The sting urges my eyes to flounder back to the bowl of brown dust and liquid, slowly but surely combing with each stir as the potent scent of chocolate rings through the air.

“Yeah, I can tell. I’m sorry, that’s really frustrating.” I remark.

She huffs, reaching over and grabbing the egg carton from in front of me. “Mhm,” the annoyance is clear in her hum as she cracks the egg aggressively on the counter. “--especially when he was supposed to order and pick up a cake. Hence why I’m having to make this.” she mutters.

I swallow thickly, unsure of what to say as she cracks another egg. The furious motion of her hands slamming on the counter makes me jolt. She brings the back of her wrists up, covering her eyes as she sighs loudly. My hand falters with the subconscious stirring motion. Letting the spatula fall against the side of the bowl, I caress the top of her shoulder gently.

A sniffle creeps out of her face. I furrow my eyebrows with concern as she gently wipes her hands down on the apron once more. “I’m, I’m sorry. This isn’t like me….I’m just, ugh, I’m just frustrated.” she sighs out. “This was supposed to be fun. Johnny’s having fun, Nate’s having fun…everyone is having fun except for me and it’s my engagement party.” she explains.

My bottom lip falls down, forming a slight pout as I read the frustration in her body language. She mumbles a quick apology, kneading the cookie dough with chocolate chips in the bowl in front of her. Heavy puffs leave her lips as she exerts her energy into the task at hand.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not having fun either.” I remark.

Her gently brown eyes look over to me, softening as the creases in her forehead relax. “Honestly? It does. At least I’m not the only miserable one here.” she huffs, taking a deep breath and pausing her hand forming the dough together. “--mind sharing? I’d love to be able to focus on something other than the pure rage I have for the man I’m supposed to be celebrating with.” she says.

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, um…well,” I shake out my sore wrist before continuing to envelope the dry ingredients into the wet mixture in the bowl. “My dad, I, uh, I moved out a while ago. Things have just been complicated, I guess…it just…” the words feel heavy on my tongue. “He seems so fine without me. I’ve never even seen him laugh like this. No offense to your soon-to-be husband, but I don’t get it. I’m his daughter, but it doesn’t really feel like it sometimes.” I say in a bitter tone.

My anxiety peaks in my brain, retracing my words. “I…I didn’t mean that as an insult. Johnny seems great, I just…”

Regan nudges her shoulder into mine, laughing softly. “Honey, don’t fret. You seem like a great girl, you know. You’re welcome here anytime. Marylou, she had told me about you…she definitely didn’t exaggerate when she said I’d love you.” she says.

My heart flutters with endearment at her words.

So much love, so easy to come by.

Except for his.

The fluttering turns into a sullen pain, a familiar ache that I had become accustomed to—numb to.

“And to be completely honest with you…I’m not exactly sure Johnny is great anymore. I–I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this, I–”

I cut her off, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I would love to distract myself with someone else’s problems. I’m all ears.” I say, the familiar words echoing from her earlier statement.

She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I…I don’t even know why I said yes. I’ve been thinking about breaking it off for months. I just, I just don’t know,” she sighs heavily, leaning her head down swiftly on my shoulder before standing up straight. “--I guess I’m scared to be alone. Nate’s never really had a dad. He loves Jimmy, I guess I just feel like I should be able to give that to him.” her voice gets quieter, barely above a whisper as I listen intently.

I lean my head against hers briefly. “You’re enough for Nate. I mean, look at him.” I whip my head around, seeing her do the same as we see a peep of the boys through the corridor. Nate has his arm looped around Nick’s shoulders, ruffling his hair as Nick swats him off. The grins stay plastered on all their faces.

My eyes are immediately drawn to Matt’s. The blue orbs glistening with a halo-like glow as the orange hue of the sky creates a golden filter. A smile crawls onto my lips as he winks at me briefly. I shake my head with amusement, turning my attention back toward the now consistent batter.

“He’s a good person, Regan. You raised him to be. You didn’t need help then, and you don’t need any help now, I promise you.” I announce with a confident tone.

Regan huffs, smiling up at me as she slides the bowl of brownie batter into her grasp. “Thank you, it means a lot…I still don’t know. I think I love Jonny, I at least used to….he’s just changed. He doesn’t treat me poorly or anything though, he just…he’s always on his phone, always coming home late. I know he hangs out with your dad a lot, but—-I don’t know, I think I’m just being paranoid.” she says.

Paranoia was a puzzle piece word in my brain as I laced the concepts of my emotions into a clear picture of confusion. I had always been paranoid about everything I did—anything I had ever done.

What made me so unlovable to my own dad?

The paranoia had flooded my brain as soon as my ears recognized the sound of his gut laughs. What did they have that I didn’t?

I clear my throat, a tingle of nerves crawling over my shoulders as my breath hitches uncomfortably in my chest. “I get that. It’s your decision at the end of the day, you know the situation best. Nate will still be here though. It’s clear he’s a mama’s boy–or maybe he’s just as physically affectionate as Chris.” I joke.

Regan’s shoulders shakes as a light giggle falls from her mouth. “Yeah, he can be as clingy as a toddler sometimes.” she says through the fit of laughter.

I shake my head with amusement, watching as she scrapes the cookie dough onto the brownie batter in the glass pan. She slides the pan into the oven, bringing her hands around to untie her apron.

“Thanks for the help, honey.” she says, putting her arms out as she walks forward to me. I clasp my arms under hers, the hug filling me with a warmth of comfort. The strands of my hair vibrate as she laughs next to my ear. “--and for listening to my whole tangent and such. I hope Matt is treatin’ you right, although I know that boy is a true gentlemen.” she breathes out.

As she pulls back from the hug, I drop my arms, letting my hands caress over the subtle goosebumps forming on my arms. “Matt’s very sweet. He–”

The weight of a familiar arm landing over my shoulders makes my stomach fill with a loving warmth. “What about me, hm? Here,” he mutters. I look over, seeing him in just the white T-shirt. He outreaches his purple sweater, the soft material falling from his grasp and into my hands.

“But–” Matt cuts me off, taking the sweater back into his hands. He opens up the cardigan, grabbing my wrist and pulling the sleeve up. He repeats the actions with my other arm. The soft material eases my goosebumps. I clasp the open sweater with crossed arms. I push my weight on the balls of my feet, planting a kiss on Matt’s cheek.

“Awww!” Regan’s coo of delight makes Matt’s cheek flush furiously with a warm pink that follows to the tips of his ears.

“Do you want it buttoned up?” Matt asks through a shy smile. I shake my head, my eyes peering into his.

“Thank you.” I say. Matt shrugs, sliding an arm back around my waist. I feel his lips press on the top of my head. I let my neck curve, resting my face on his shoulder. A hum vibrates my lips as my chest rises and falls with a deeper breath of air.

“Hey, hun.” I turn my head slightly, seeing Johnny walk to Regan. I relax into Matt’s embrace, his hand drawing gentle circles on my hip bone through the thin fabric of the sundress and sweater.

Regan pulls a tight smile that doesn’t reach past her lips onto her face. I give her a sympathetic smile as Johnny lazily slings his arm onto her shoulders, her feet stumbling slightly with the shift of weight.

I stand up straighter hearing more footsteps come in. I let out a gasp, feeling added arms hugging around Matt and I, looking up to see Chris with a cheerful glow. He unravels his arm, Nate coming into view as he points at me accusatively. “Girl,” I laugh at his sassy tone. “--stop tryna steal my boyfriend. Matt,” he shifts his gaze to Matt, waving his hand as an order for him to follow.

I look over, seeing Matt looking down at me with conflicted feelings apparent in his shifting gaze. I stand up, pushing him toward the boys walking out of the room. “Go–I’ll be fine.” I urge. He nods, giving me a slight pout before walking towards the corridor.

As the figures disappear down the hallway, I hear an old-phone ringtone. Looking over, I see Johnny staring down at his phone screen. “Sorry, gotta take this. Be back.” he slings the words out quickly, walking out to the living room.

Regan sighs deeply, continuing to clean up. I watch as she reaches down, a lighter on the floor. She takes the object, holding it out to me. I take the item warrily, giving her a confused glance. “Can you take this to him real quick? He goes nuts when he can’t find his lighter.” her eyes widened before rolling with annoyance.

I nod firmly, hearing an offer of gratitude as I walk to the living room. I open the sliding glass door, the gentle wind making me cling the soft sweater to me tighter.

As I look around, no figure of a person is visible. My eyes wander, a dark shadow of Johnny’s broad shoulder poking out from the brick wall of the side of the house. I look down, seeing a path of grass clouding the path to him.

“Hey, you forgot your–” I try to say loudly. The stale posture of his figure makes me huff with annoyance, looking down at my clean heels. I take a deep breath, preparing to voice the statement louder.

“--baby, baby, it’s only you, don’t worry! I’ll come over later tonight, yeah? You can show me that pretty–” I nearly gag at the words.

My jaw clenches with anger as I clutch the lighter tighter in my hand.

Regan.

She doesn’t deserve this.

My chest heaves with a burning rage as I throw the lighter onto the cement. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout.

Johnny's figure freezes up. His full body comes into view with wide eyes, a panicked wave of his hands reaching out for me. I shove his hands off of me. “Don’t fucking touch me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

My rage clouds my senses, my throat straining from the yells escaping. “Shut the fuck up!” he orders. I scoff, turning on my heel. I barely take one step forward before nearly falling from a hand yanking me back.

“Fuck off!” I shout. I hear the sliding glass open. I don’t glance back, recognizing the familiar shoes pattering on the cement.

“What’s going on? Stop shouting, kid.” His voice alone makes my eyes roll.

“No. He’s a fucking cheater. Go get Regan, she deserves better than his sorry ass.” I spit, ripping my arm from his grasp.

“George! Control your fuckin’ kid.” Johnny huffs out.

I feel trapped as arms engulf around me. It wasn’t a hug, but it felt like the same sinking anchor in my gut from the hug my dad had given me after the window slammed down on my hands.

The numbness leaves, a seething anger blinding my foggy eyes as I shove my elbow back with a rush of motion. “Ow-fuck!”

“Let go of me!” I shout, fighting against his tightly grasped arms.

“Are you gonna keep fuckin’ quiet, kid? This ain’t none of your business, don’t go fuckin’ running to Regan. Got it?”

My heart sinks at the words. The words I wished had been announced from Johnny’s mouth. But they weren’t.

My eyes stare at the scratched up lighter still laying on the ground. “Dad, this is wrong. What the fuck are you saying?” I breathe out.

"Who fucking cares, it's not that deep." I hear him mutter through the strain in his voice.

His hold falters with a heavy sigh, but my limbs feel impossibly pulled down with disappointment.

No. No. No.

He didn’t love me. I knew he didn’t love me.

But did he love her? My mother had clung onto him in her final days. I remember staring at them in the kitchen, waking up from the loud ruckus in the middle of the night. He held her up, helping her whisk whatever batter had formed in the bowl.

That was love.

Wasn't it?

“Why couldn’t I read mom’s journal?” My voice cracks as the question falls breathlessly from my lips.

I felt the little hope I had clung onto shattered. The silence spoke the words I couldn’t even imagine forming from his mouth, words I had never even thought of to be true–or even a possibility.

“Why?” I cry out, feeling a hot stream of tears flood out from my eyes.

The sliding glass opens from my peripheral vision as I hug the cardigan tighter around myself. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?” I look forward, seeing Chris’s eyes confused and darting from the three of us. I reach forward, letting his arms pull me into his chest as my tears soak into his shirt.

“What’s wrong? Here, let’s–”

Chris' voice is cut off as I hear heels clacking on the cement. My clouded eyes vaguely focus on Reagan's figure. “Honey? What’s going on?” she asks.

The attempt to spill the words from my mouth is cut off by a loud cry. I barely register Chris’s arms tightening around me until I feel him pull me from the grasp of his hand. My dad’s hand.

“I don’t think she really wants to be touched right now.” Chris mutters.

“Johnny…” I cry out, the name falling from my lips through the choked sobs. “--you were right…he…he’s–”

“Shut up, kid. Stay in your own business.” My dad’s voice shoots with daggers as I feel the hard clasp of his hand around my arm.

“She doesn’t wanna be–”

I cut Chris off, blinking back the tears. “I’m not your kid. Fuck off.” I spit.

His face drops as he swallows thickly. I watch as George shakes his head, clenching his jaw. Breaking out of Chris’s arms, I put my hand on top of George’s. I let my nails embellish into his skin, ripping his rough hand off of me with a grunt.

“I’m not your fucking kid. You’re not my fucking dad. You’re just a piece of shit. I’m done with this—I’m done with you.” The anger seeps through my tone as I point my finger accusatively up at the man who looks like family but has the same aura of a stranger.

I keep my bitter eyes trained on George's, looking at Regan through my peripheral vision. “I came out here. I heard it. Johnny is cheating on you, Regan. You deserve a lot better than that.” I let my eyes soften as I give her a sympathetic sigh.

My gaze falls towards the ground as I feel my heart break completely in my chest. Shatters of glass seem to sting the burning pain through every bone in my body, my limbs feeling incredibly weak. I look up, meeting the eyes of the man who had cracked at my dignity for years. “I deserve better.” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Fucking bitch.” I hear Johnny curse under his breath from behind me. “Regan—let’s just–”

“Nope. Get out of my house and take your bitch ass son who can’t respect anyone but bitches like you–-old fucks who sit on their asses all day, drinking beer and smoking because they’re not capable of anything besides being pathetic.” Her words stay barren of any heavy emotion, instead breathy confidence holding her stance as she points to the door.

Johnny shoves past me roughly. I feel Chris stabilize my balance with a gentle touch to my sore arm that was definitely gonna bruise. As the hiss leaves my mouth, Chris mutters a somber apology, dropping his hands back to his sides.

“Take his rude ass too, I’m done.” she gestures pointing to George.

“No–I need to talk to–” he points towards me, his finger being slapped back to his side by Regan.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you, now does she? Y/n?”

All eyes turn to me as I feel my heart wrench at the question.

I don’t even want him anymore.

“No…no.” I say, shaking my head with disappointment.

I’m done.

So fucking done.

Regan grabs George by the arm, shoving him towards the open sliding glass door. I watch as he leaves, shaking his head with frustration as he shoves his shoulder into Matt and Nick, who push past walking outside.

Matt's eyes meet mine, his face falling as his steps quicken towards me. I just shake my head, letting his arm wrap around me as I rest my forehead on his chest.

“Hey,” he soothes with a soft voice. “--what happened?” I just shake my head, not having the energy to bring the words out of my mouth.

His hand rubs the top of my shoulder, his other one clasping the back of my head securely.

I wanted to be happy. I had nothing holding me back from leaving–leaving with him, creating a life that I was proud of. But I wasn’t. Joy couldn’t even peek a glimpse in my body as I felt the weight of devastation crash down with a nauseating sadness.

My heart broke with the realization crawling over every pore of my body. He didn’t love me, he couldn’t even love her.

The deathly silent ride home had been a blur. Everything had become a fuzzy haze of a memory, seeming too much for my brain and heart to process as reality.

Matt’s arm wrapped around me as we sank further into his soft mattress, silent tears somehow still flowing down my cheeks numbly with the bitter heartache.

I had things to be happy about. I just couldn’t bring myself to even feel anything but sad. The swirling in my stomach, the sickening pile of emotions had voided me of any chance of thinking a single thought without a consequence.

I would finally be with Matt, in LA, building a life I could do anything with–things I never even had the opportunity to dream about.

But what if it was fake?

It was so stupid. I knew Matt cared about me. Hell, he loved me. I could see that in every action, every word, every glimpse of hope in his eyes.

But I had thought I had seen that with my parents. Her crippled body rested against his as he helped combine whatever sweet batter had been poured into the bowl.

I thought it was love. Maybe it was just guilt.

Matt wasn’t him. He didn’t dare lay a finger or a word harsh enough to make a tear flow from my eyes.

Now, guilt was eating at me as I compared them in every way, every detail, every context of any situation.

He’s not him. He’s not him. He’s not him.

But what if everything sweet he’s ever done has been out of pity–his own deep seeded guilt from hiding secrets, hiding other girls.

I shut my eyes tightly, willing the nightmare to end.

I prayed silently in my head, letting my swollen eyes shut with exhaustion.

Dream. I can’t have another nightmare.

Matt. LA. Madi. Nick. Chris. Marylou. Jimmy. Regan. Era.

Era.

My mom’s best friend.

Did she know?

She had to know.

...so why didn't I?

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