He used a washrag to wipe my face, and then he sighed.
“This has stopped being exciting, hasn’t it?” I asked, feeling mascara sting my eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding sad. “I think it’s time.”
I nodded, wiping the black from my cheeks. “It’s okay, Tyler. I knew it was coming.”
“You knew what was coming?”
“Goodbye.”
He shook his head. “I’ve told you … I’m not going anywhere. Maybe it’s not perfect, but I’ll love walking through hell with you just the same. I’m just not to going to watch you get worse. It’s time we start going in the other direction.”
“I think we both know we’re past a support group and twelve steps.”
He wiped my forehead with the rag. “Maybe. Whatever it is, I’m with you.”
My bottom lip quivered, nodding.
I picked at my nails, feeling strange to have been sweating from the Virgin Islands humidity in the morning and have Tyler’s truck heater blowing in my face to battle the chill of Colorado air twelve hours later. The windshield wipers were creaking across the glass, wiping away the snowflakes falling quietly from the night sky.
“I’m not trying to be difficult. I think I just need some time to get my shit together.”
He sighed, frustrated. “And why can’t we do that together?”
“Because everything I’ve tried up to this weekend hasn’t worked. It’s been a year. I think it’s time for something new.”
“Or someone new?” he asked.
I blinked, offended. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I just want to help you with your luggage. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“When you get upstairs, I’ll want you to stay.”
“Is that so bad?” When I didn’t answer, he gripped his steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. “You want to drink, and you don’t want me to see you.”
“Something like that.”
“So is this going to be the new thing you’re trying? Choosing to get drunk over being with me?”
“No.”
“That’s what it sounds like to me.”
“You’re not coming inside,” I snapped.
“Why?”
“You know why!”
He slammed his palm down on the dash. “Goddamn it, Ellie! I’m fucking exhausted!”
“Then go home!”
“I don’t wanna go home! I want to be with you!”
“Too fucking bad!”
He clenched his teeth, staring straight ahead. The headlights of the truck highlighted the MountainEar building and the snowflakes, adding to the already white blanket on the ground.
He slammed his gearshift into reverse. “I can’t do this.”
I grabbed my backpack and put my hand on the door handle. “It’s about time you admitted it.”
“You were just waiting for that, weren’t you? I give up, so it’s not your fault. Or maybe you can go upstairs and pretend you’re drinking because you feel sorry for yourself. Fucking brilliant.”
I opened the door, and then opened the back door, grabbing my rolling suitcase and yanking it to the ground. I slammed the back door, and then the passenger’s.
Tyler rolled down the window. “I’ve put up with a lot of shit to make this work, and you don’t give a single fuck.”
“I warned you!”
“That’s bullshit, Ellie! Just because I warn a bank I’m going to rob it, doesn’t mean the bank had it coming!”
“Be sure to tell everyone at the bar that when you’re crying in your beer,” I seethed.
“I don’t have to go to the bar every time something in my life doesn’t go right. It’s called being an adult. And I’m damn sure not crying over you,” he said, rolling up the window. He stomped on the gas, squealing backward in a half-circle, and then spun out of the back lot and into the street, barreling toward the highway.
I stood alone for a while, stunned. In the year I’d known him, Tyler had never spoken to me that way. Love made people hate in a way they never would have before.
The snow made the world quiet, but even silence made a sound. I tugged my luggage through the snow, up and over the curb to the back door. My key was ice cold, burning my fingers while my hand trembled. In a steady rhythm, the wheels banged against every stair, and then I let it all fall forward when I made it to the top.
I took the few steps to the fridge and grabbed the last can of beer, noticing the only thing left was moldy cheese and a bottle of mustard. The beer hissed at me when I popped the top, the bitter liquid feeling cold and comforting in my throat. There was half a pint of vodka in the cabinet, but payday was a week away.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I scrambled to answer.
“Hello?”
“It’s Jojo. You back?”
“I am,” I said, brushing the snow from my hair.
“You bored?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Cheap drinks at a dive bar?” she said. “I’ll pick you up.”
“Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jon Bon Jovi played from the jukebox in the corner, its yellow, green, and blue glow one of the only sources of light in Turk’s besides the fluorescents over the bar.
A small group of local snowboarders were shooting tequila in the corner, and despite my occasional flirtatious glances in their direction, they weren’t going to share.
Annie stayed busy behind the bar, raking in the last of the ski season’s share of tips. I was sitting on a stool in front of her soda gun, watching her mix drinks I couldn’t afford. Jojo had already bought me two, and I wasn’t going to ask for another. Unfortunately, no one was looking to flirt with a jetlagged, hungover party girl too broke to party.
I looked around, feeling more desperate as the minutes passed, listening to Jojo go on about Liam and his invitation for her to meet him in North Carolina.
A shot was placed in front of me, and I turned to thank whoever it was. My smile faded when I saw a platinum pompadour and sweet grin.
“You look like you’ve had better days, Ellie,” Paige said, straightening one of her enormous gold leaf earrings.
I faced forward. “Go away, Paige.”