Never Sweeter (Dark Obsession #1)(76)

“You’re still in the hospital. I called up pretending to be someone else, some cousin of yours, and they told me you’re doing fine. They said you were lucky somebody got to you quickly and stopped the bleeding, but honestly I don’t even remember doing that. I guess maybe I must have, because the sweater I used is still covered in your blood. It’s stuffed in the back of my closet like that beating heart from the Poe story, only the weird thing is I don’t feel frightened of it. Sometimes I just take it out and hold it, and think about you spilling this messy map of nowhere all over the front.

“Sometimes I hold it to my face. It still smells like you.”

Letty almost told Lydia to stop after that.

But it was for different reasons than the first time. Her heart had started thumping at called up, and now seemed in imminent danger of collapsing in on itself, like a dying star. If Lydia kept on she was probably going to implode, and not just because of the words. She could hear Tate’s voice when Lydia spoke, so soft and warm. Could see his face, without the mask she constantly wanted to put back over it.

He had saved her life and never said a word about it.

“I guess it’s kind of crazy to keep emailing someone who isn’t on the other end. Like I’m just talking to an electronic ghost, or an echo of the person you are. Maybe an echo is all I can handle—I saw the real you on the street the other day and couldn’t get out of my car. I just sat there behind the wheel, watching you help your mom put groceries in the trunk. Thinking I should get out and go offer to do it for you guys, but scared of what would happen if I did. If you started crying or screamed or something like that, I don’t know if I could take it. I can’t even take it now, just thinking about it. Just knowing that this is the way things are between us forever. There is no coming back from this, no moment when I stop being a stupid jerk and apologize and explain why I was such an * and you forgive me.

“I let someone violently assault you.

“I am the kind of guy who allows a girl to be violently assaulted.

“What could I possibly tell you to make that okay?”

This, she thought, but couldn’t say.

He couldn’t hear her. She’d gotten the email years too late.

Lydia continued reading:

“Dear Letty,

“I came pretty close today to coming to your home. See, I thought I had figured out what I could do to make this whole thing right. I lay up every night this week planning what I was going to say to you, and what I was going to bring for you—not flowers, because you f*cking hate flowers. And not chocolates, because I know how shitty that would look. I was going to bring you a first edition of The Amber Spyglass, because I know you love that book. But then I got to the end of your street, head all f*cking full of how forgiving you would be, and it just hit me hard in the gut. I was doing all that shit for me.

“So that I could be a different person, a better person, a person worthy of someone like you. I wasn’t thinking about you. I’ve never thought about you. You weren’t even a whole human being to me, not even back when I was a dumb kid with a crush. I just saw someone I thought I could be happy with, and when you laughed in my face after I asked you out I saw you as a thief. A girl who stole all my hopes for my own future. I never thought for one second about your future. About what you wanted.

“And I’m still doing it now.

“I want you to make things okay for me.

“When I need to think about what would make things okay for you.”

Even Lydia’s voice was wavering now—but that was cool.

It made Letty feel less crazy for clutching at her chest.

“Dear Letty,

“I know how difficult the task ahead is going to be. It might even be completely f*cking impossible. It’s not like I can plan how to make sure you have a great life from now on. I can’t force you to have fun and will you to be happy. But I know that I have to try. Even if you never know I’m doing it. Even if you do scream and cry; even if you beat the shit out of me. I want you to beat the shit out of me, so I always know that when I’m doing this I’m only doing it for you. Break my arm and I’ll just keep on going. Call me every name you know of; I won’t give up. Put it all on me; I can take it.

“As long as I know you are one step closer to the life you should have had, I can take it.

“All my love, sweet one,

“Tate.”

She managed to hang on until the very last line, and then it was just too much. The sob she had held in pushed past her lips and broke out into the room, loud and ugly and stupid. It was fine though, it really was, because Lydia practically did the same. She covered her face with her hands as soon as that Tate was out, so consumed by whatever she was feeling that she didn’t even stop to balance the laptop.

It slid off her knee and onto the floor, most probably f*cked.

Not that either of them cared. The first thing that Lydia did in the aftermath was stand up, and wipe her eyes with her sleeves, and then clap her hands together.

“Okay, so basically you have to go to him immediately. I fully accept that I gave terrible advice, and that he is not Satan himself, and just come on, get your jacket on, brush your hair, wipe your face, we are going right now to wherever he is. Right now, come on.”

“We can’t go right now. It’s…he…he’s at that college with the name that sounds like a bodily function, for some big wrestling thing. Trumpen or Furtberger or—”