Chasing After You | 18+ | ✓

38: henry

My fingers increase the pace they're tapping at on the table. This is for the best. It was only ever supposed to be temporary. "Put out the press release saying that we ended on mutual terms." I murmur softly, the words almost getting stuck in my throat.

Neither of them think anything of it because Mirabelle and I never actually confirmed to anyone who thought it was fake but her family that we were really together. We just allowed everyone to think whatever they wanted.

It shouldn't have mattered to them whether we were together or not.

My head is throbbing and I feel disgusting. They wouldn't let me shower before the meeting started so I have no doubt that I reek of the alcohol seeping from my pores.

I can't stop thinking about Mirabelle leaving.

"Do I need to be here?" I ask bluntly, cutting off Taylor who is talking about some body wash commercial they are scheduling for me.

She looks startled by my outburst, "I guess we've covered everything major."

I nod, pushing out of my chair. "Schedule me for whatever you want and put it on my calendar. I'll get a new phone sometime this week." I say, walking out of the room, hearing the door slam shut behind me.

I don't care.

I just don't care anymore.

When I'm drunk, it blocks out all the terrible thoughts in my brain including the conversation my dad had with me a couple days after we got back from New York. He told me everything, but it doesn't make it hurt less.

If anything, it fucking hurts more knowing that to the woman who birthed me that I'm only worth five hundred thousand dollars to her. That's the equivalent to my payoff for one game.

One game.

That's what I was worth to her.

But clearly now that I'm worth more, she thinks she deserves a higher payout.

When I'm sober, this is what consumes my mind.

Absolutely fucking consumes it.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't see the person in front of me until the box of things she is carrying are crashing to the floor.

"Watch where you're going," She snaps, immediately dropping to the ground to pick up the things and my eyes widen when I realize that I've ran into none other than Mirabelle.

"I'm sorry." I have to force the words out and my voice sounds low and gravely because of it.

Her head immediately lifts up and her mouth forms a perfect 'o' as she realizes that it's me. Then her expression hardens, becoming guarded.

"For what?" She asks, refusing to break eye contact.

So I do.

I crouch down to help her pick everything up that I caused her to drop. "You're leaving?" I ask awkwardly, moving to grab her laptop charger at the same time as Mira. She shies away from my touch, allowing me to put it back in the box.

"I'm leaving." She confirms and my heart drops.

I drag my hand through my hair, not knowing what the right thing to say or do is. Is there a right thing? I torture myself by stealing a glance at her face only to find that Mirabelle was already staring at me.

Her blonde hair is pulled back but she has plenty of pieces hanging in her face. I fight the urge to brush them back behind her ear. Mirabelle's dark eyes are watching me and I'm not surprised to see that I can't get a read on what she's feeling right now. I'm sure she doesn't want me to know.

"Good luck," I say softly, before standing up to walk away.

"Really?" Mirabelle calls after me once I'm halfway down the hallway. I freeze, but I don't turn around to look at her. "C'est tout ce que tu trouves à dire après tout ça?" That's all you have to say after everything?

I hang my head and continue walking.

It's in the best interests for everyone.

*********

It's cold outside, but I don't care. I'm sitting on the edge of the pool with my legs dangling in the warm water. I stare at the water in front of me as I drink from the beer in my hand. It's my fourth one of the night.

My thoughts are buzzing in my head but not as loudly as before. I can push the thoughts of my parents' secrets to the back of my mind.

The only thing I'm not succeeding at pushing out is the look on Mirabelle's face earlier.

She's really leaving.

"So is this just what you're going to do every night? Drink yourself into a blind stupor and then spend the next morning throwing everything up that you drank the night before?" Wilson asks, plopping down to sit next to me. In his hands is a water bottle that he offers to me.

"What else am I supposed to do? Everything is a wreck." I grumble, making no move to take the water from him. Wilson is the only other person I told what happened other than Andrew.

I'm sure if Andrew could see me now, he'd push my ass into the pool and tell me to sober up.

"No, not everything. You had the girl but you pushed her away. That's your own damn fault."

"I didn't push her away; she left." I retort, wracking my brain again for another scrap to add to my memory of the conversation in her bedroom.

"If that's what you want to call it." He replies and I shake my head, choosing to continue drinking.

Why the fuck can't he see that I don't want to talk? I don't want to do anything.

"I think the happiest I've seen you is when you're with Mirabelle." Wilson continues and my jaw clenches. He's not wrong.

"Don't."

"Don't what? Point out what a fucking idiot you're being by letting her leave? Everyone can see just by looking at her that she's in love with you and that you're miserable without her because you love her too."

And then it clicks.

"I'm trying to give you time, but I don't think it's a bad thing to want to help you! I can't believe you'd even go there to say my brother is right." She's staring right at me, but the words are blurring together in my mind. "I know you're going through a lot right now, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like shit when all I've done my entire life is love you. I've spent years chasing after you Henry. I fucking love you and I hate that I can't fix this for you because it physically hurts me to see you hurting. But I can't do anything if you won't talk to me!"

I close my eyes as my head spins. I don't want to talk. I'm just so goddamn tired of being used by everyone who is supposed to love me. If that's what the word love means, I don't want it. I straighten up, "You're right. You can't fix this so stop trying."

Mirabelle shakes her head, "I love you, so respectfully, no. I'm not going to stop trying."

"Fine." I bite back, getting up off the mattress, except I almost fall back down because the floor is moving. "Do whatever you want. I don't care." I think I'm going to be sick.

"I will." She says as I grab onto the wall before watching her walk out the bedroom with her suitcase in hand. I stagger back to her bed, laying down on it as I watch the doorway for her to come back.

Except Mirabelle doesn't.

Wilson's right. I wrecked my relationship with Mirabelle. She left because I told her I didn't care.

If only she knew how wrong that was, except how would she? I've spoken to her a handful of times since that night and when I apologized today, she asked what for and I said good luck.

He's right, I'm such a fucking idiot.

"She deserves better." I say, breaking the quiet.

Wilson turns to stare at me. "Yeah, maybe she does."