The Pact

29. if you're proposing get the fuck out

Beck's POV:

Not even five hours after I saw Emily, I was back in Florida. I thought maybe being back home would make me feel better.

It didn't.

If anything, being back home made me miss her even more.

The minute I walked through the door my mother was on me.

"Beck, sweetie, what are you doing here?" She asked, pulling me into a bone crushing hug. "Is Emily with you?" She let out a gasp, excitement visibly bubbling under her skin. "Oh, I found this adorable comforter we could put in her room for Christmas, it's light blue, and, oh gosh, doesn't she just look stunning in light blue?"

She gushed.

"Mom." I tried to interrupt.

She ignored me. "I just know that she's going to love it and, oh! I was thinking about having a Christmas ball, because she looked just ravishing in her last gown, and maybe it's a bit silly, throwing a ball just for her, but like you said, she's just our little princess,"

"Mom," I tried again.

She looked at me, confused. "Does she not like the comforter?"

"She's not here, Mom." I told her, trying to hold back my anger.

She stared at me, her excitement visibly deflating as her face fell. "Is she coming to visit?"

"Mom," I took a deep breath. "I'm not with Emily."

The look she gave me could've melted ice cream. "You're not with her?" She echoed. "Beckett what on Earth are you talking about?"

I looked at her, my chest growing tight.

She stared back at me, her expression softening. "Are you okay, honey?"

I could feel tears stinging the corners of my eyes, my heart aching as I stared at her. "No," I said quietly.

"Oh sweetie." She pulled me into her arms. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't respond.

I couldn't tell her what I had done.

So, I cried.

I cried in the arms of my mom.

For the first time since I was ten years old, I cried to my mother.

And she held me, and she told me everything would be alright.

And it wasn't okay.

It would never be okay.

And I hated myself for what I had done to Emily, I hated myself for hurting her like this.

She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve the way I left her. She didn't deserve any of this.

I hated myself for being too scared to fight for her. I hated myself for hurting her. I hated myself for walking away.

"I told her forever," The words came out broken and jagged. "I promised her forever, and then I just gave up."

"Oh, sweetie," my mother sighed. "Sweetie, it'll be okay."

But I knew it wouldn't.

And I knew that she knew that too.

"I had an episode," I said once I was able to steady my breathing. "And, Emily was there, she was checking on me every day. And I was hurting her, I wanted to hold her, to tell her I was okay but I couldn't. I hate myself for it but I just couldn't care. I had nothing to give,"