In 31 Days

Day 19: May

After a silencing night in our house, I awoke to a fresh round of dread. I didn't want to leave Alex, and had no idea of what and where I would go and become.

Rubbing my sore eyelids, I groggily yawned and sat up, only to be met with the sight of Alex's forlorn expression, eyes guarded, staring at me from my bedroom doorway.

My eyes widened in surprise.

"You stole my car keys," I accused, pointing a finger at him.

"You told me I could," he responded lazily.

"You yelled at my mother."

"Only to tell her off," he responded quickly again.

"I told you to not do that!"

"I didn'- don't care," he said loudly, blowing out a breath. "Do you not care about us?"

"I do. Of course I do," I automatically responded.

"Then why don't you want to fight against the sole force telling you to leave me?"

"Because I did and it didn't work."

"Because you didn't try hard enough!"

"Not everything is about trying hard enough, Ashley!" Alex burst. "Sometimes, you know, you fight with people so you can get your views across. Why are we even fighting? Again?"

"You yelled at her, and you do not yell at my family," I bit back. "Stop pretending you're a saint. Your ego knows no bounds -- I told you to let go, but you didn't! You didn't, and that's what scares me."

"I'm not going to be abusive, if that's what you're implying," he retorted, folding his arms across his body.

"I never said you were. You just need to know when to stop. "

Alex blew out another breath.

"I'm done. Don't come asking for me," he snarled, walking out my doorway.

"Why are you always angry?" I cried, waving my hands in the air in aggravation.

Alex suddenly stopped walking, as if he met a glass wall in front of him.

"I'm not," he said, with a slight shake to his head and a sad smile.

"What aren't you telling me?" I pleaded. "What are you constantly worried about? I can help you."

"Ashley," he said steadily. "Don't you trust me?"

He didn't even wait for my nod before he broke the invisible glass and walked out of sight. Vaguely, I could hear my car keys jangling in his pocket as he exited.

I stared helplessly at his repeating figure; I thought I had changed him for the better, made him realize that being considerate was genuinely worth it. 

But I guess I was wrong; he never changed.

*****

A couple hours later, my mother shouted for me to leave.

"Good to go," I muttered as I lugged my suitcase out our door. 

After deciding that Alex wasn't worth an ounce of my sorrows, I wanted to take a breather for a couple of days. My mother told me it was merely temporary, as to not distract my studies, but the fact that Alex left thinking that the old claim of me moving to Long Island was still true was satisfying, to say the least.

At nighttime, when we finished walking around the city and enjoying some bonding time together, my mom received a text from my father containing a question from Alex.

Alex wants to know where she went.

Assuming the 'she' was, well, me, I bit back a foul-tasting smell.

I didn't want to see him.

"Tell him I'm staying in Long Island for the rest of the month," I answered, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"You sure you don't want to see him?"

"Positive."

"Look, if this has to do with me, just know that I didn't take it personally," my mom said fretfully. "I just had some pent-up feelings about your father that I needed to get out."

"I know, I know," I responded tiredly. "I just don't like all the drama that comes with him."

"There is no drama," my mother responded. "If you ask me, I think you're scared of being attached to him."

"You don't know him," I protested. "And I'm trying! I just don't know what my heart's trying to tell me."

"What if," my mother said, "you're simply trying too hard to hear it?"