Youhave to believe me when I say I tried.
Itried not to be an asshole.
Itried not to put you in the middle of my rage.
Itried not to give in to temptation, and when I eventually did, I tried not toget you involved.
Youhave to believe that. PLEASE, believe that. I never wanted to drag you down withme. I never wanted to prove your family right. But I did. I did all the thingsI tried not to do and all I can say is, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, andI wished we lived in a world where that was enough to take it all back, but wedon't.
No.You know what? Fuck that. I wouldn't take it all back. I'd take back the badparts. I'd take back the parts that hurt you. I'd take back everything thatmade you go crazy. But I wouldn't take back the part where you asked me tomarry you. I wouldn't take back our wedding. I would keep all those momentsthat made me want to devote my life to you instead of my father. I wouldn'tgive those up for anything in the world.
Butevery bit of good is always contrasted by something bad. That's the beauty ofbeing alive, and my addiction to you was so beautiful. But it was still anaddiction and that type of obsession has always been my downfall. I couldn'thandle being left alone again, I couldn't handle beingyourdownfall, and so that night I made you leave, I decided the world would be abetter place without me. So, I tried to off myself and apparently, I can't evendo that right.
Dr.Travetti says that's not funny, but I think it's hilarious. Because someone outthere clearly loves me enough to keep me around, and I can't for the life of mefigure out why.
Anyway,I think that's everything. I'm scared to end this, though. I'm scared this willbe the last time I have any contact with you. But I need to learn to be alone.I need to teach the devil in me to keep his big mouth shut. I need to, I dunno,love myself enough to see those reasons to be alive before I can even thinkabout being in your life again...if you'd even still want me.
Ihope you will.
Loveyou, sweetheart.
-V
P.S.I don't expect you to wait for me. I wouldn't ever ask that of you. But there'sno harm in hoping, so that's what I'm gonna do.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
VINNIE
“Yousure you're ready for this?” Zach asked, his hand on the doorknob.
“Iwouldn't be here if I wasn't,” I muttered in reply, shifting my gaze toward mysister.
Shelooked back at me, her brows lifting gently with doubt and concern. This was mynew norm. The looks and constant questions asking if I was okay. I guess thatwas my own fault, and I’d done it to myself, but that didn’t mean I wasn’ttired of reassuring them.
“Okay,”Zach drawled doubtfully, as he opened the door.
Thelast time I had crossed that threshold, I'd been strapped to a gurney. Bits ofmemory pelted against my guts in fragments of something that fell somewherebetween reality and a dream. I could remember the decision to overdose, but Icouldn't remember setting up the lines. I could remember Moe, slapping my faceand shouting my name, but I couldn't remember waking up, or passing out, or howI ended up with a two-inch-long gash on my forehead. I wished I could remember,yet I'd do anything to forget.
AndI wished to God my brother and sister would stop watching me like I couldspontaneously combust at any second.
“Howare you doing?” Jenna asked cautiously, as I slowly walked through the diningroom and into the living room.
“I'mfine, Jen,” I grumbled, as my eyes fixated on the coffee table.
Somewhereduring the time I'd been away, at Zach's place and in the Boston rehabilitationcenter, my brother-in-law, Nicky, had come by and cleaned up the mess I'd made.But he'd missed a spot, and I leaned down to scratch my thumbnail against theblood stain on one of the corners.
“Fuckergot me pretty good,” I commented, chuckling humorlessly.
“You'relucky that's all that happened,” Jen replied, her voice reflecting all the hurtI'd inflicted on them.
“Lucky,”I snickered, shaking my head and standing to survey the room. “Not sure that'sthe word I'd use.”
“Youarelucky,” Zach said with a stern furrow of his brow. “I mean, for somereason, you keep getting more chances at life. Someone obviously wants youaround.”
“Yeah,well,” I muttered, as I grabbed a garbage bag from the box I held, “I'll letyou know if I ever figure out why.”
***
