Jenalyn: From the Inside (#3) [Complete]

Chapter 37: Hayden

Sunday, 2:37 P.M. EST

I had Ryan condemn me to quiet time in my room to get away from Ren.

I worried for a second that she’d just scurry in here like the rat she is, but  Ryan assured me he’d make sure that didn’t happen. So here I am; Alone, and thinking about how I should just bring Jena out, control her, and take Ren down.

Obviously, I have to consider the fact that I’ve never been able to control her before. I really don’t want to fuck this whole Hayden thing up... not if I want to give my baby girl the best life possible!

Ugh, is it worth it? 

Hayden can do the tit for tat, all the basic shit that I get so mad at Ren for. That’s allowed because it’s non-threatening to the life that she has to live being America’s next friggen Sweetheart.

But it’s not enough... Ren needs more than that to break.

She needs to see herself in me, just like I see myself in her, and break. She needs to realize she’s not special! More like despicable, honestly! 

Just like Jena is fucking despicable…

The thought makes me sigh. 

I can’t do it; I can’t try to bring Jena out over some stupid shit in a fucking mental institution! She almost ended Hayden already; I can’t risk letting her do it again! Without these meds, she’s stronger than me. It’d be disastrous!

I guess I have to deal with it.

The door to my room swings open, and I automatically roll my eyes assuming Ren slipped past Ryan.

“Hey,” a male voice says. It’s Ryan. I didn’t know he was coming back...

I sit up, turning around to face him before I let out an unintentionally confused “hey?”

He’s uncomfortable all over again. 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he says, almost as if it had been eating at his insides. “I wasn’t trying to be a douche. Maybe I just read things wrong? Either way... I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what else to do besides tell him it’s okay. Ryan makes his way over to my bed, sitting on the edge before turning to me with a sigh. 

“So we can be normal again?” he asks. 

I nod my head. I don’t know what he wants from me. I mean, what could I really do? Stop allowing him to hang out on my "breaks” upstairs? Stop talking to him?

Does it really mean that much to him?

“I’m glad,” he says after a few moments, sounding relieved. “I was worried I fucked things up...”

I can’t help my brows from furrowing together as I allow his words to settle into my head. 

“You were worried?” I ask before I know it, the tone in my voice reflecting the confused look on my face. “You’re my nurse. What could you possibly have ruined?”