Like Real People Do

38. Exile

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend, trusted beta reader, and loudest supporter Brujaja_. As of right now, I have finished writing the main story, and I couldn't have gotten to this point without her! She helped a great deal with this chapter specifically, and has been so involved in my writing process as a whole. She has also showered me with lovely artwork, which I have attached as the external link to this chapter! Thank you again to everyone who has stuck with me up to this point. I am so appreciative of your love and support, and I really hope that everyone enjoys the rest of what I have planned for this story. 

TW: Substance Abuse (Alcoholism) 

I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out. I think I've seen this film before -Taylor Swift

Thursday, October 14th

Shane needed to say something.

He couldn't let it carry on the way it was for one more second. The threat of Rhiannon finding out what he'd been hiding loomed too close for comfort, and "space" was the only thing he could think to ask for that wouldn't give him away. The only thing he could think to say because it was getting too hard to keep lying. He knew it wouldn't be pretty but didn't anticipate it ending the same way past disagreements with Natalie had- with embittered yelling followed by a haunted silence. The past month had been an exercise in self-control, and Shane failed almost every test he constructed for himself. He was out of options, out of selfish justifications to keep bleeding her dry. The only way to keep her safe was to keep her away. Hurt her now so he wouldn't destroy her later. Just until he figured his shit out.

Shane wasn't blind to the pain in her eyes every time he was short with her, but the hits just kept on coming. He was trying to put out a fire all day that Rhiannon didn't even know was burning. His phone buzzing in his pocket became a source of dread because Natalie was done waiting for a response from him. Shane figured that she would lose patience for him sooner or later, but she couldn't have picked a worse time to do it. She'd texted him nonstop while Rhiannon was right beside him and none the wiser, and Shane was in pieces. Every time he sat down, every time he tried to be present for her, his fucking phone would go off and take him right out of it again.

I know you're getting these. Call me.

It's been months. Not sure why this has taken so long.

I'm tired of waiting for you to figure your shit out.

At least turn your read receipts off if you're going to keep ignoring me.

Shane wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her so badly to lift that burden off his chest. He wanted to rip the band-aid off and lay all his sins out to bare. He would deserve whatever judgment came forth, but he didn't know if he could accept it. Not only did Shane already know what it looked like when Rhiannon bowed and broke, but he was terrified with the thought that this would shatter the illusion of him, too. Whatever it was she saw that drew her to him in the first place was a mask that he never meant to create. The local deadbeat trying to drink himself to death, the broken man in need of saving. If she knew he was just a lying asshole with an addictive personality, she wouldn't have wasted half of the time and effort. When she looked him in the eye and begged him for an honest answer, it was everything he could do not to spill his guts onto the ground at her feet.

He could have spared her from all of it right off the bat, but instead Shane opted to string her along and now it finally came to this: Rhiannon holding back tears in the passenger seat in his car after he asked her to stay the fuck away from him. They were separated by almost two weeks of silence now. Not even meals dropped on her doorstep. Not even a text about his forgotten that when he sat alone at the dock. It was never going to be easy to do this on his own, but Shane was utterly unprepared for just how fucking hard staying sober actually was without a crutch to lean on.