Hard Habit to Break

Chapter 14

 Eddie lit up his fourth cigarette as he walked the streets of Hawkins, heading back toward his uncle's place. He couldn't bring himself to call Wayne. Couldn't bring himself to admit how much he'd just fucked up after everyone warned him to take things slow, to not push her too hard. He didn't want to admit how much of an asshole he'd just been to the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Jesus Christ. Why had he said those things to her? What had he been thinking? He hadn't. That was the problem. That was always the damn problem. His mouth moved faster than his brain. There'd been no reasoning before he'd opened his mouth and let all of that come out. He'd just been so damn angry.

Angry that she could just brush off last night like it meant nothing. Angry that she wasn't as torn up as he was. Angry that she looked like she would rather he be on that plane or anywhere else, as long it wasn't around her. Angry that she was disappointed to find him in her living room, breakfast in hand. Angry that the thought that last night could mean anything more was insane to her.

And there he was, the giant idiot who'd thought that last night had meant something. He'd allowed himself to hope that it was the beginning of something and not just a one-off. She had those goddamn lyrics inked across her ribcage. It had to mean something.

I was lost in the darkness; living in the shadows

The world was crashing down around me without you

But I faced my demons head-on and I won the fight

No longer will I surrender even when it's hard to breathe

No longer will I be powerless

I'll keep holding on for you.

Lyrics that he'd written two years ago after he'd gotten out of rehab. If she didn't listen to their albums, didn't want anything to do with anything having to do with him, how the hell did she know those? And why did she get them permanently inked on her body? She hadn't wanted to talk about it last night. She hadn't wanted to talk about anything but he wanted to talk about everything.

He'd been prepared. He'd woken up at five, unable to go back to sleep, just watching her as she slumbered peacefully in his arms. His girl was finally back where she belonged and everything was right in his world for a few hours. It had all sounded good at the time. He would surprise her with breakfast and then he would tell her everything. How he still loved her. How he'd never stopped. He'd ask her to come to California with him. It might seem fast but it wasn't when it was the two of them. Two people who had loved each other for almost half of their lives.

What did four years apart matter when you were meant to be? Henderson, that little shit, and his optimistic outlook on life. He'd allowed the kid's words to get into his head. He'd believed him. That he was her Han Solo or her Westley or some shit. That the two of them were written in the stars like some cosmic message, like the universe gave a flying fuck about them.

He'd been so expectant this morning, assuming she felt the same way he did. He'd practically been floating on air, not even allowing the crazy line at the coffee shop to squash his cheerful mood. He finally had everything he wanted. He'd finally fixed what had been broken. They were together, the way they should have been, the way they were supposed to be and with one statement, it had all been dashed.

You aren't supposed to be here.

He kept replaying her words over and over in his head.

I wouldn't have been mad.

Hadn't they all said if she didn't care she wouldn't have any big feelings about him anymore? Was that what it meant? Did she not care at all anymore?

It was just sex. It was not a big deal.