Garrett's Other Side

29.)

"No, I'm good. I'm just still very tired. They— the nightmares take a lot out of me" I said.

"I know, Princess. I know."

My dad held my hands, helping me up to the sink so I could brush my teeth. Once I was done he helped me to my room.

He sat me down on the bed as my mom followed behind us. Once I was under the covers my mom placed a warm wash cloth on my forehead. It felt nice.

My dad walked out, my mom taking his spot on the bed. She then gave me some pills and water.

"Remember not to chug the water. You want water, but you don't want to chug it. We wouldn't want you throwing up water, would we" she asked with a loving smile.

"No. We don't" I said.

The door opened and my dad walked in again. He was holding a bin and tissues.

"I got you a new bin in case you throw up again. I also got tissues so you could wipe your face if anything... gets anywhere" he said with a slight look of disgust.

"Thanks" I said with a small smile.

My mom started to cry. My mom was not one to cry in front of others. She kissed my head, whispering "sorry" as she walked out.

My dad laid down next to me as my eyes started to glisten. I didn't want to be a burden or bother anyone, but I couldn't help it...

I didn't want to be obnoxious with my cries, but it was getting harder and harder the more I thought about it. My mom was usually a fun and funny person. Rarely was she crying or in a bad mood, but here we are. She crying, and it's my fault.

"Honey, it's ok. It's ok to not be ok. It's gonna get better—" my dad started before I cut him off.

"How do you know that? I was molested for almost 7 years. Seven years!! And here we are, 3 years after it stopped, and I'm still not ok! I can't— I don't want to—" I stumbled over my words, unable to finish my thoughts.

I couldn't tell my dad that I felt like dying. That dying felt like a good option. I wanted all of this pain to go away. I'm so sick of ruining everyone's time. I'm starting to be a drag.

I've not even been here a full day and I've already managed to stress them out, make my mom cry, and scare the life out of Garrett.

I felt awful.

My dad just hugged me for a little while. I doubt he had any idea what to say. I mean, who would?

After what seemed like forever, I noticed that I wasn't feeling much better. I was still crying and he just wasn't doing "the job" anymore. I felt bad for wanting Garrett here, but Garrett actually helped.

I couldn't cuddle my dad, or my mom for that matter, the way Garrett and I did. They couldn't kiss me like Garrett. They tried their best, which I was incredibly grateful for, but it just wasn't enough. Especially after being with Garrett for the past couple months.

"Daddy-o?"

I used the sweet nickname from my childhood to get his attention. What I was about to ask was probably going to crush him, so I wanted to be as sweet and gentle as possible.

"Yes, honey?"

"I... I want Garrett" I said quietly.

"You what" he asked pulling away to look at me.

"I want Garrett... with me" I said a bit bolder.

He looked a little saddened, making my heart drop to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that" I said quietly. "You can stay, it's ok."

"No. I'll be alright honey" he said kissing the top of my head.

Standing up, he looked at me and smiled before saying, "I'll go get Garrett."

I watched him walk out before laying back down on the pillows. I tried to calm my breathing, pulling the rag down over my eyes.

...

Suddenly, I heard the door open. I shot up to see Garrett shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, babygirl" he said crawling into bed beside me.

"What took so long" I asked looking down at my fingers.

"I— uh—"

"You didn't wanna come in here, did you" I asked defeatedly.

"Rachelle May! Do not say that! Not to me! I always want to be with you!"

The use of my middle name, and assertive tone, let me know he was serious.

I looked down at my fingers again, twiddling them in slight embarrassment. I'm not sure why him getting serious made me embarrassed, but it did.

"I'm sorry" I said quietly.

"No. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice" he said rubbing his face.

"I just... I don't want you to ever think I don't want to be with you" he said pulling my face up to look at his.

"How can you still want me" I asked, tears streaming down my face.

"Aww, baby! How could I not want you?!"

He gently pulled me into his lap while I rested my head in his shoulder. He pulled the covers up around us, his hands snaking under them to hold my thighs.

"I'm such a problem" I sobbed.

"Rachelle! Baby, please. Please don't do this. Don't think like that" he said.

"I know you're thinking it too. You didn't get with me to cradle me every night because I'm messed up."

"I'll never stop wanting to cradle you" he said holding me tighter.

"But you don't want a drama queen for a girlfriend" I cried honestly.

"Baby" he said sounding sad.

He was quiet for a moment. He pulled my face from his shoulder to look at him. I looked at him to see tears in his eyes.

Why was he crying? How could he care so much?

"This is NOT drama. You can't control how you were affected by your past. You aren't dramatic. The whole time I've known you you were chill. I highly doubt you're doing this to be dramatic, or for attention" he said gently pressing his hand to my cheek.

I leaned into his warm hand. His words were sweet and loving. He always knew what to say. Very rarely did he say "it's gonna be ok" or "it gets better." I hated those words with my whole heart, and it was like he knew that. Or maybe he realized that he couldn't promise that.

"Please don't ever leave me" I said clinging to him.

"I don't know what I'll do without you" I stated.

Before he even got to speak I chimed in again.

"I'm sorry for putting that pressure on you. I'd understand if you wanted to leave" I said slouching my arms and head down in front of him.

Suddenly, he was pinning me down on my back. He looked down at me with a serious look before speaking.

"I am NOT leaving! And I'm not letting you leave... so don't even think about it" he said.

I couldn't believe that he just said that. Me leave him? Clearly he hasn't been present the past couple months.

I was the drag. I made our relationship hard. I'm the one who created sleepless nights and tired days. I was the one straining him.

"Why on earth would I leave you" I asked seriously.

"You're always there for me. Not once have you complained about this. You make me feel normal. You make me feel real. You make me..." I paused.

"I what" he asked.

"You make me want to live. You give me a purpose" I finished.