Page 171 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“I don’t have time for this.”

That’s his answer.

A laugh escapes me. “Of course.”

He steps forward, pointing his finger at my chest as the tears start to roll down my face, not even affecting him. “You’re throwing your future away.”

“What future?” I snap. “The one where I become you? The one where I wake up at forty and realize I don’t even know how to feel anything unless it’s rage?”

He keeps pointing at me like I’m the problem in this equation. “If you keep this up, you’ll lose everything. You won’t be like me. You’ll be a failure. A drunk, sad failure with a future you threw away for what? Stupid feelings and a buzz?”

My nails dig into my palms so deeply that I feel wetness from the blood starting to pool around my fingers.

“I hate you,” I whisper.

He steps closer. “Yet life still goes on.” He grabs my arm…tightly. “Get it together.”

I jerk away. “Don’t touch me.”

His face twists, annoyed that I’m even someone he has to deal with. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Iwasa child,” I spit back. “When Mom died. When you left me to deal with everything that I feltalone. When I was raisingyourkids while you were more worried about your little fuckingempire.”

He acts like that just irritates him more than it hurts.

“You wonder why I’m such a disappointment to you,” I continue. “You wonder why I’m so fucked up. It’s because ofyou!”

“You’re not going to blame me foryourpoor choices,” he says.

I stare at him, breathing hard, then just shake my head slowly.

“Fuck this,” I whisper, grabbing my keys off the counter behind me and heading for the door.

“Mason,” he calls sharply. “Come back.”

I don’t even look back as I walk out into the office. I don’t look at anyone else either until my eyes meet Brooke’s. I see the pity in her stare and hate it.

I wonder how much of that everyone heard.

I can’t even force myself to care at this point. I hope they all know how much of a piece of shit the man they work for is now.

When I make it outside, the rage is still so loud in my head that I need somewhere for it to go. I turn and punch the white brick pillar attached to the building; my knuckles split instantly from the impact.

It feels good, though, to feel pain temporarily anywhere else but in my head and in my heart.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, head back against the seat, I stare up at the blue sky, wondering how this is my life.

Somehow, another small bottle from my glove compartment finds its way into my hand, and I drain what’s left in it.

How can a man bring life into this world and treat it like dirt on his shoe? How come everyone I try so hard to love and care about can never give me the same in return?

The one person who did…fuckingdied.

That’s the story of my life, though. My luck has always been shit, I guess.

I pull out my phone to call an Uber when I hear a soft knock on my window. I look up—eyes barely open—and see Brooke.

Slowly, I reach my hand over and hit the button to crack the window. “Go away.”