2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter three

*♡  Ellie ♡*

Guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt.

The word haunts my mind in a perfect loop. I thought I knew the meaning of it when I bolted from my wedding, but that was nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. It's so heavy, I can barely move. 

Ever since I got back to Faroaks a month ago, I've been thinking. Crying, too. How did something so good end up so bad? It's my fault, of course. Our relationship started like a half-played Jenga tower. It was already wobbly and then I took out the bottom pieces. By my design, the whole thing came crashing down. I made so many mistakes and before I could rectify them, it was too late. I always thought that I was the good girl. Boy was I wrong. I turned out to be the worst kind of girl. The man with demon tattoos and foul scowl was no match for my deceivingly sweet nature.

Unwillingly, my mind takes me back to that horrible day. His skin was so pale. Pasty, even. And there was foam around his mouth. His eyes held no life, but he wasn't dead. Not yet. No, died on the ambulance. When the machine showed a flatline, I completely lost my mind. The last thing I remember seeing before they sedated me is the paramedic injecting him with something that kickstarted his heart. 

I take a deep breath to prevent myself from slipping into a panic attack. He's alive and I will never be able to hurt him again. It's the only reason I left Los Angeles. His life is worth my every pain.

"Ellie?" My mother softly knocks on my bedroom door and then opens it. "Are you awake?"

I hide my face in my pillow, knowing I have dark circles under my eyes. The evidence of my insomnia. "Hmmpf."

Patted footsteps come my way and then the mattress dents when she sits down next to me. "Come on, sweetheart. It's a quarter to ten. Lying in bed all day won't make you feel any better."

I pull the covers further over my head. "Nothing will make me feel better."

"Oh, Ellie—" She rubs my shoulder over the sheet, empathy in her voice. "—I know heartbreak can be tough, but the only way to get past it is to keep moving. Busy hands keep a mind from wandering."

Easy advice, yet difficult to carry out when you feel as lethargic as I am. Maybe she knows something I don't. A little curious, I roll to my back and peek up from the cover. "Have you ever had your heart broken?"

Her lips stretch warmly. "Sorry, hun, your father and I married young. We've been together for as long as I can remember."

Strange how I once thought their relationship was dull but now, I envy the simplicity of their commitment, the knowledge of having someone forever. My throat tightens, but I keep the tears at bay. "That's nice, Mom. You and dad are lucky people."

She nods. "Will you finally tell me what happened? I thought you enjoyed living in the big city. Every time we spoke on the phone, you sounded so happy."

My heart does a fearful skip. I'm to blame for all the shame I feel, but I can't share it. Not with her. My poor mother would have a heart attack if she knew the things I got myself involved in. I shrug a little and say, "I already told you, we weren't a match. I don't belong there. I'm—it's dangerous."

She squeezes my hand in understanding. "In all honestly, I'm glad you're home. I worried a lot. Prayed for you every night to be safe."

I stay quiet. It wasn't me who was in need of her prayers. Tex was. He was doing so well ... until I came along. I pushed him back into drug use and almost into an early grave. Whether he loved me or not, he's better off without me.