Even The Playing Field | BOOK #1 IN THE PSU SERIES

fifty-five

Everything would've been okay—I had hoped.

But hoping is wishful thinking these days, and my wish never came true.

Because now I lay on my bed—on her side of my bed, in the moonlight—wiping the tears that rolled down my cheeks.

On the first day of missing Naomi Black—I drank and got high.

Because that is what any normal person going through heartbreak would do.

And that is what was so hard for me to grasp. I was taking this a lot worse than Naomi, but it was because she was used to her heart being broken by the people she loved, not me.

I wasn't used to opening up like this.

The morning after, when the realization set in—that's when it was the worst.

Blake told me to pull my shit together, but how could I?

I was a spoiled rich kid that was having the one thing he wanted taken away from him.

I did more of the art final on the second day of missing Naomi Black.

I wanted her back. I had to figure out how to win her back though.

I think the saddest part about this all; she always came back to me because she forgave me so easily. This time she wasn't coming back to me because she knew it would affect me negatively.

It was just yet another reason to love her more.

On the second day of missing Naomi Black I also had a lovely little chat with Rob Day and Colton Williams.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people? Hurting two people that just want to be fucking happy because they both had their childhood's ruined by parent's that still like to dictate things? Are you fucking happy dad, huh? You happy that I'm not happy?" I thrust my hands in the air, emotion spewing out with my tone—them listening on the opposite end of the facetime call.

But they didn't understand.

"Mattison, I think you're being a bit over dramatic. We're doing the best for you boys and her, it will benefit all three of your futures tremendously." Rob spoke, his arms folded over each other.

I snorted, "Can't have a tremendous future if you aren't here to celebrate it with everyone." I spoke solemnly. My dad raised an eyebrow.

Not saying I wouldn't be here in the future, but I couldn't see myself having a future if it weren't with her.

"Mattison, I have done nothing but give you everything I've ever had—" I cut him off, slamming my hands on my desk.

"What about your love dad?" I yell through the Macbook screen. His mouth drops open at my words, but I couldn't care to comment on his shock.

"You spend so much time bragging about work, bragging about your past life, but you were too busy to notice the fact that I was growing up without you. And when you were there— you were chewing off my fucking ear over YOUR dream dad—not mine." I spoke, dangerously serious.

Rob cleared his throat to interrupt.

"I think this is a private conversation and I'm on my way to a rally, we'll talk later. Okay?" He asks as I chuckle.

"Don't bother—this was a fucking useless conversation anyways. Can't ever get through to any of you assholes. You know—maybe that's why both of your wives are only with you for the money now, because they learned how to love the money that you gave them instead of giving them your love. Fuck that." I chuckled again before pressing the red button, ending the call.