Chapter Twenty-One

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Derek

Cupping my drink between my hands, I stared blindly at the bartender as he mixed drink after drink. I'd been here for a couple of hours, but I couldn't find it in myself to move.

Layna's words kept running through my head and I was trying my best to drown them out. All this time she had been feeling like she was insane, and I hadn't noticed. She hadn't even felt like she could trust me with what she was feeling, and that hurt the most. Somewhere along the line, I had managed to convince her that I wouldn't listen to her if she confided in about what was going on in her head. I could only imagine how long she had been feeling like this and I felt nauseous.

If I had known, I would have at least gone with her when she went to see him. In reality, I couldn't have stopped her either way because it was her choice if she wanted to see him but at least I could have been there with her.

Sighing, I finished my drink then watched as the bartender refilled it. I wanted to go back to her, but I wasn't sure she wanted to see me yet. I wouldn't want to see me if I was her. I hadn't supported her when she needed it most.

"Bad night eh?" he asks and I chuckled humorlessly.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Want to talk about it?"

I sighed, taking a drink from my glass, twirling around the liquid at the bottom. "What do you do when you have completely failed the one person that you were supposed to be there for? When you have failed the fundamental role that you vowed to keep?"

"Well, I would say that the first step would be to apologize. Then it's about showing that you're sorry, not just the apology itself. The person needs to see that you're trying to fix what you did wrong in order for them to believe that you are capable of change."

I smiled a little, "You a major in psychology or something?"

He smirked, picking up the empty glasses beside me, "I'm a bartender; it's my job to provide insight. That and I've been to therapy, and some of the shit they spew stuck."

I laughed at that, "Careful what you say, you're talking to one of those shit spewers."

"Hey man, I didn't say that therapists don't work, just that some aren't as good as others. Took me a while to find one that I was comfortable with."

"Yeah, I know what it can be like. Thank you for the advice."

***

When I got home, all the lights downstairs were off so I assumed my mom and Layna had gone to bed. I lay down on the couch because my head was spinning but I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew there was a bloodcurdling scream from upstairs.

Before my mind could comprehend what my body was doing I was halfway up the stairs and running as fast as I could. As I got to the top I bumped into my mom who had just come out of her room looking frantic.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered, holding a hand to her chest.

I didn't reply as I pushed past her, only one person on my mind. I burst into my room seconds later, running my hand against the wall to find the light switch. Scanning the room quickly, I could tell that there was no one there except for Layna, who was sprawled out on the bed. Her arms and legs were resting in awkward positions, her red hair covering her face.

I walked over to her hesitantly, sighing in relief when I was the rise and falling of her chest. What the hell had just happened in here?

I sat down slowly on the bed and reached over to touch her shoulder gently. With a gasp she shot up, "Get away from me!" she cried, hitting my hand away blindly. She pushed away from me and crawled to the corner of the bed her eyes wild and unseeing. She kept screaming for me to get away from her and fighting me off as I tried to hold her.

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