Our indelible pasts|✔

sixty four - bryson

"HAVE YOU BEEN seeing Dylan?" I don't even bother greeting her when she walks into my room, probably to take the rest of her stuff.

"What?" She stops in her tracks, all colour leaving her face.

"Have you been seeing Dylan?" I ask again, sitting up on my bed.

"Why would you think that?" The stammer in her voice is enough to let me know I've caught her.

"Remember that time I asked to use your charger? I saw a notification from him on your phone by mistake. Something about your hoodie...in his hotel room." I say, clearly bothered.

I scan her face, hoping to see any sign that I saw my own things, that she's not hiding something from me, but all I see is regret.

"I was going to tell you." The confirmation I've been dreading to hear makes my heart sink.

"So, I'm not paranoid." I mutter to myself.

"Babe-"

"Please don't call me that. Not...not right now."

She stays quiet for a few moments before she speaks again. "Bryson, I didn't mean for things to get to this point."

"Well, they did." I spit. "I've never felt more stupid before. I had a bad feeling the moment he sprung back into your life and now see."

"I haven't done anything with him."

"So, what you've just been playing fucking monopoly on his bed?" I throw my hands up in frustration. "Sandra please don't lie to me. Don't lie to me, again."

Sandra knows how much I hate it when I'm lied to, so if she's really just lied to me right now, then I know I've really lost her.

I hear her sigh. "It happened once, and it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened."

No shit.

"Well, it did, Sandra." I bury my face in my hands, unable to face her in this moment.

"I'm sorry." The crack in her voice lets me know that she's crying, one of my greatest weaknesses.

I refuse to look at her. Now that she's crying it's not just my temper that I'll have to control, it's my heart.

"Just take your things and go."

"Bryson-"

"Please." My voice comes out weak, as I get up and leave the room, refusing to look at her.

***

"You okay brother?" Wyatt asks me as I take out another bourbon from his fridge.

"Do I look okay to you?"

"What happened?" He slurs, wasted as usual.

"I got cheated on." Saying it out loud sends a sharp pain to my chest.

"Woah. Sorry about that. But I will say, you have come to the right place."

"No, I haven't but I didn't know where else to go." I painfully admit.

"Try this." He hands me a roll. "I got the buds from a new supplier, and they are the absolute best!"

I take a sniff of it and the strong green scent hits me and I actually start to think that I may have come to the right place. I pick a lighter from the table and immediately light it up, desperate to lift off of this earth.

Staying sober means constantly thinking about Sandra which means constantly feeling nothing but pain. No thank you. I can't do that. I simply do not have the strength for that.

"Fuck." I grunt before taking a much-needed hit.