Summer's a Knife

Chapter 5

You've always known your words can sting but this time you don't even mean for them to. Sometimes the truth just hurts, even when delivered by small, normal words like "yes" and "you are."

"That's not fair," she says quietly. Too quietly.

"No, I guess it isn't fair," you say, turning around to face her. "Just like it wasn't fair how you left me all those years ago."

The words cut into her like a thousand knives and she visibly shrinks in front of you. Your heart aches from the hurt look on her face, but your anger has unlocked that vault inside of you that's been locked and stowed away for 15 years. She owes you some answers.

An unbearable silence fills the air around you. She's standing by the door, looking down at her feet, pain and discomfort seeping out of her from deep slashes brought on by sharp words. When she doesn't say anything, and the blinding red-hot rage inside you threatens to burn the silence down, taking the whole house with it, you turn and start ascending the stairs, needing to do something to calm yourself down. Making sure the children's rooms are tidy might as well be it.

You're about halfway up when her footsteps break the silence.

"It wasn't like that," she says to your back.

"Like what?" you ask without stopping.

"Do you think it was easy for me to leave you? Do you think it was an easy decision for me?" Her feet stomp loudly on the stairs behind you. "I didn't want to do that to you. I didn't want to do that to me!"

"Then why the hell did you?" You've turned on your heel to look at her, delivering the words with such a blow it nearly shoves her down the stairs.

She recoils and stares at you for a few moments. "I did it for you," she utters eventually.

"Yeah, well, I didn't fucking ask you to." You're yelling now, the crimson fury inside of you has turned into steam that's fuming out of you through your pores. Furious, you walk into Connor's room and start making his bed, smoothing the sheets and shaking the cover violently before you spread it across the bed.

"I know you didn't," she yells back at you before she follows you into his room, "I thought I was doing what was best for you. In case you don't remember, you weren't exactly having a wonderful time at that point."

"You don't have to remind me," you hiss at her.

"You were miserable, Taylor!"

"So you thought you'd make it all better by breaking up with me."

"God, you know that's not it."

"Then tell me, Karlie, what was it about?"

She sighs. "Do you remember when we met Joe at the Met Gala?"

Only all too well.

"As we spent time with him, it was clear to me that you liked him, and he really liked you. One time the two of you were deep in conversation, I looked at you and thought 'this is your chance at normal'. I knew I had Josh – I always had Josh – so I knew that while losing you would be painful, I had someone else and with Joe, you did too." She sighs again. "I just didn't want you to be miserable anymore. Everyone was constantly judging you, and I knew that we could never live out in the open, so I backed out to protect you."

You take a deep breath with your eyes closed. For years you longed for an explanation from her, for some meaning that could justify it all, and now that you finally got one, it does exactly nothing to ease the pain of what happened. If anything, it amplifies it.

"I didn't need you to save me," you say at last. "Don't you get that? So what if I thought he was cute? I loved you! I didn't want anyone else. You didn't even give me the courtesy of getting to choose what I wanted. You just assumed it would be better for me if we weren't together, broke up with me, and then let me think it was all my fault."