Chapter 10:
It was seven in the morning when I finally performed my walk of shame into my parent's house. I took the long way home, which meant I walked in the complete opposite direction of the house until I was too exhausted to walk any further. I spent the whole time bawling my eyes out like a stupid little girl.
I had tried to call Jax to come get me, but he sent me straight to voicemail. He was still a turd after all these years. My brain wasn't doing too well and I wasn't sure if being alone with my thoughts was a good idea. They felt like they were spiraling down too fast. I was crashing and there was nothing I could do about it. The heaviness I felt inside my heart was like a stake holding me to the ground. It pinned me down as I struggled to stand back up on my feet.
As soon as I opened the front door to my parent's house, Puddles ran up, wagging his stubby little tail at me. It was moving so fast that it made him spin sideways as he walked towards me. His tail propelled him in a circle like a miniature helicopter. He always managed to find a way to give me his butt first.
I tried to smile down at him, but there was no joy left in me. I felt useless and unwanted. I felt like no matter what I did that it was always going to be this way.
"Hey, pup tart." I bent down to pick him up. I groaned, feeling the stiffness from my fall and the overly rough sex in my tailbone. Puddles felt too heavy. I was going to have to take him to a doggy aerobics class or maybe get him hypnotized to quit binge eating paper products. Either way, he was a pudgy dumpling who needed an intervention.
"Hey, Sweet Pea, where have you been?" My mom came out of the kitchen. She was in a pink robe and house shoes still. Her hair was in a messy knot on the side of her head like she had a rough night or maybe too good of one.
My parents were such freaks; it was probably the latter.
"Just out. I had a terrible night." I yawned at her.
"What happened?" She yawned right back at me. Damn contagious things were always coming out at the wrong times.
"I just realized how much has changed since I left." I fought to hold back the tears from my already weary eyes. I knew I probably looked like a disaster. From the worried look my mom was giving me, I knew I wasn't going to get out of this conversation easily. She already knew there was something wrong with me. My cycle of ups and downs was nothing new to her. I was so fucking down right now.
"Let me guess. A certain blonde someone found out you are home." My mom pulled her lips tight with sympathy.
"I've decided this is the only man I need in my life," I said, kissing Puddles on his smelly little head.
"Yeah, that sounds about right. I was hoping to talk to you about him before you both saw each other again just to prepare you a bit. Cameron showed up one night on our doorstep about three months ago. He was completely out of his mind. It was three in the morning and he was pounding on the front door. When your Dad went down and answered it, he demanded to see you."
"What happened?" I asked, concerned.
"Your Dad brought him inside, talked with him for a while, and then sent him to your old room to go sleep it off." My mom said.
"That doesn't really sound like a Dad move."
"I think your Dad has been concerned about him. He told me he thought it was best if he slept it off here instead of going home alone to that empty house." My mom shrugged, saying she had never really questioned my dad's motives. Even after everything that man had put her through, she trusted him blindly without exception.
"Why didn't anyone tell me what was going on?" I was frustrated with my parents. If Cameron was not doing well, someone should have said something. I should have known a long time ago so I could do something about it. I'm not sure what that something was, but I would have tried to make him better.
"Cameron has been struggling for a long time, but he asked us not to tell you. He knew how well you were doing and I think he was embarrassed. He has been stopping in to talk to your Dad a lot lately after that night."
"What do they talk about?"
"Your Dad never tells me. I have a feeling it has something to do with a dark-haired girl he's still not over. I hear your name whispered a lot." My mom grabbed my hand and squeezed. I wanted the truth even if I wasn't really ready for it and I'm glad she was honest with me.
"How bad has he been?" I asked.
"His work made him take a leave two months ago because he kept getting into fights when he was off-duty. He's back working now, but they said they are keeping an eye on him. One more strike and he is out for good." Mom frowned. I could see the stress lines on her face. She loved Cameron like he was her own son and seeing him suffer was taking its toll on her.
"He was drinking last night. Is it the alcohol?"
"I don't think it's that, but drinking doesn't help it either. I've been around enough people with those types of issues over the years to spot the signs. This is different. He isn't always drinking when he loses it. Most of his incidents seem to happen when your face is plastered all over the tabloids or your name is in the news. It's like he is taking his anger out on everything around him." My mom said, sipping a cup of coffee.
"He should know none of that stuff is true. He was my best friend. He knows me better than that." I swallowed when I realized that was the exact reason he was so angry. He did know me and that is what bothered him. My past was still my past, even if I was getting better.
"Baby girl, all he knows is you are not here with him." She smiled at me and brought my head down to kiss my cheek.
"I wanted him to go with me, Mom. He chose to stay behind. He didn't want me. I tried so hard." A tear slid down my cheek.
"Jess. It does go both ways, honey. You didn't stay either and he chose the best option for him at the time, like you did too. It didn't mean it was an easy decision to make for either of you. You both did what you thought was best. Even though it was the right thing to do, it doesn't make the hurt any less. You two didn't break up because you lost your spark. You broke up because you were on different paths and didn't want the same things for your futures. That is almost worse than losing your love for one another completely. It is hard to love someone deeply enough to let them go."
My mind raced through everything my mom had just told me. She wasn't wrong. I had spent two years secretly blaming him for not coming with me when I could have just as easily decided to stay. From the way our reunion went down last night, it looked like he was doing the same thing. I knew my decision was the right one to make. I had learned a lot about myself over the last two years. There was no way I was going to learn to grow if I constantly depended on him to take care of me. I had to find myself and learn who I was before I could ever really live.
I had a lot I wanted to say to Cameron, but there was too much hurt inside me to think I could keep myself in check if I spoke with him again. I was feeling slightly more and more unstable as each second passed. The tiny snowball rolling down the mountain in my brain had triggered an avalanche. I was in a bad headspace and needed a break from the pressures around me. Unfortunately, my disorder had a mind of its own. Some days I could fight it, but today I was not going to be one of those days.
I had to protect my sanity before the stress sent me plunging straight down into a deeper depression. I could feel the teeth of my disorder snapping at my neck, threatening my existence. The pressure had been building even before the night at the club. It grew larger when I decided to come home and it broke free when I left Cameron's house. It was too much. I couldn't cope with it. My teeth were chattering and the noise in my head began to get too loud. I pulled at my hair and prayed it would stop.
My mom's back was already turned to me as she began to walk back into the kitchen. I was debating internally on what I should do. All the signs were there that I was on the brink of a major meltdown and had been for a while. I had been ignoring them in an effort to get them to go away. It had been a long time since this happened and I forgot what it felt like to feel lost.
I was secretly hoping I was imagining it, but I knew better. It held me in its grasp and was refusing to let go. I was losing the battle or at least I thought I was. Even if I was overreacting about this, it would be better to be safe than let it go until it was out of control. It was time to ask for help.
I began wheezing and clutched at my neck as my brain raced over my different options. I could call the doctor and not let anyone else know. I could scream out for help and hope someone would hear me, or I could wallow in my own self-pity until I fell back down.
The despair was rolling over me like the tide, burying me deeper and deeper as each second torturously ticked by. Decision, decisions. I had to make a decision.
"Say something, Jessa. Just open your fucking mouth and say it." Good Jessa screamed.
"Momma, please help me. It won't stop." I blurted out as my chest began to tighten and my vision darkened.
It was too late. I was already too far gone.
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