Burnt Devotion (Imdalind, #5)(94)

He was right. The only time I talked to him was to yell at him one month after he broke up with me and my mom left. Coincidentally, it was three days after she left that he decided to make the decision for the both of us; the decision that we’d talked about but not come to a conclusion to.

I told him he sucked for deciding that right then was the time to dump me. He said he was sorry, he was there for me. He tried to take it back, even tried to kiss me and hold me but I would have none of it.

I missed him. He was such a nice guy but his timing was just terrible and I was angry at him for it. I was angry that he still wanted to leave me here and go through with his plans. Everyone left me. I tried to summon a semblance of calm.

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I just needed you and I wanted you to want to be there, but not for you to come back because I begged you to.”

“You didn’t beg me, silly girl,” he crooned and pulled me closer for another hug. He spoke into my hair. “I’m so sorry, Mags. I thought I was making things easier for you, for both of us by just trying to be friends instead. I knew how hard it was going to be to leave you. Look at me.” He waited for me to look up, which I did with a sigh. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I’ve missed you.”

“Chad, you’re still leaving. Don’t, ok? I’m sorry for how I acted, but it doesn’t change anything does it? You’re still leaving, University of Florida football.”

“I know. I just hate that this year was wasted like this. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” I pulled from his embrace and boy, was it painful. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Please write me. Or call me, text, something. I miss you. I never intended for us to just never speak to each other again. I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I will. I promise. Congrats on the UF scholarship. I always knew you’d get it.”

“Thanks, Mags. I still love you, you know,” he whispered and kissed my cheek, so close to my lips and I fought for composure.

Then he was gone.

I turned to look at him once more and he was walking backwards, watching me, his black grad gown flapping at his sides and his diploma in hand. He waved sadly and then took off towards his truck. If possible, I felt worse than I already had.




“It still boggles my mind how you can eat those things,” my dad said, as he’d said a hundred times before, but this time he sneered it instead of joking with me. “I mean, it’s pure sugar. Sugar and starch and bad for you carbs.”

“Are you saying I need to lose some weight, Dad?”

We sat at the kitchen dinette. I say dinette because it barely fits two people. This was where we’d been ever since that ride home from graduation. It was an utterly silent ride except for one ‘congratulations’ muttered from Dad, nothing more. I had been sitting there for almost an hour now, checking my phone and waiting for Kyle to text me. I never thought I’d ever be waiting for Kyle, but I would have done anything to get out of that house tonight.

I did, however, have a text from Bish.

Congrats, kid. I’m really sorry I couldn’t come, but the boss is on me and interns can’t really negotiate, you know. But I love you and can’t wait to see you. I’ll come home soon for a visit, I promise.

“No.” Dad cut through my moment of happiness with more grumbling. “I’m not saying that, stop being dramatic. I’m saying they’re not good for you.”

“Dad, I’ve eaten honey buns almost every day since birth, along with thousands of other Americans. I’m sure they’re not lethal.”

“Stop the sarcasm, Maggie. I’m just saying you could watch it to make sure your weight doesn’t get out of control one day. Your mother always said-”

“Ok, stop right there, please, Dad. I have no interest in what that woman thinks of me. She left, so she definitely doesn’t get a say so anymore. She doesn’t care.”

She was always on me about my weight. Of course, back then I just thought it was motherly protection, you know. Now, who knew what was going on in her head.

I’m kinda short, I guess; five-three. My mom has always said I should watch it and maybe start doing more activities, such as joining the cheerleading squad again. I quit my sophomore year. I was already on the track team, but apparently, our running shorts weren’t cute enough for her.

I have always liked my body, always. I wasn’t fat. I wasn’t one of those girls that griped and complained and had conniptions every time I had to put on a bathing suit. And I’d never had any complaints from anyone else either. Especially not Chad, who constantly told me how he loved that I ate real food and looked normal and didn’t ask him if I looked fat every time I changed my clothes. No one except her ever had a problem with it or ever said anything to me about it. I refused to get a complex because of one high strung woman. And now Dad had to start this crap?

“She does care. We just didn’t do what we needed for her. We took advantage. She wouldn’t have left if we had been more...”

“More what, Dad? More perfect?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. You don’t love people for what they can give you. You don’t love them because of what they do for you or how good you make them look. Love is blind, love does not boast, love is not vain. Remember, Dad?”