Page 130 of PS: I Hate You
As much as I don’t want to leave my condo, or do much of anything really, I also can’t stand the idea of these two men pokingaround my place when I haven’t even run my robot vacuum in days. Plus, I can’t feed them here.
“Food sounds good.” I glance down at myself and realize I’m wearing the same shirt I fell asleep in last night. “Let me change.”
Carter, who I always thought was the more perceptive of the two, slaps a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, guiding Adam toward the elevator. “We’ll sit in the car. Green Honda parked half a block to the right of the front door.”
I nod, shut my door, and suck in a shaky breath that barely fills my lungs.
“Get changed. Get food. Thank them for coming. Send them home.” Having the simple list of tasks helps me focus and get my feet moving. In my closet, I realize I’ve neglected laundry along with everything else. I pull on a sweatshirt with no shirt and no bra underneath, and a neon pink pair of athletic leggings I bought for my gym training with Jeremy.
Not runway ready, but at least both items smell clean.
I find the car easily and reach for the door to the back seat, only for the passenger side to open.
“Come on, Maddie!” Adam calls from behind the wheel. “You’re riding shotgun.”
I smooth away a grimace. So much for my hope to quietly fade into the background while the twins talk to each other. This will put me right in the middle of the group.
Surprisingly, once I’m settled and strapped in, Adam doesn’t immediately start with jokes or probing questions. Instead, he pulls on to the road and types in a familiar business into his GPS.
Taco Bell
I almost smile. Almost.
But the expression feels like a muscle movement I don’t know how to accomplish. Like I’ve forgotten.
We drive to the food chain in silence. Adam orders for us at the drive-through, getting the same selections we’d always choose all those years ago.
It’s strange how I can feel so empty, yet also have this uncomfortable pressure in my chest.
I got dressed. We got food. Now I just thank them for coming and send them home.
My throat clearing sounds overly loud in the small car.
“Thank you for visiting, but—”
“You stopped answering my texts.” Adam speaks over me, cutting off my attempt to create distance.
A guilty blush infuses my face. In my defense, I stopped answering most everyone’s texts. Communicating about anything not related to work just seemed so…insurmountable.
Especially with Dom’s name continuing to appear on my phone.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”Will I, though?
“Maddie.” Adam taps his thumb on the steering wheel. “This isn’t the first time you’ve ghosted me.”
At this rate, I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat anything, guilt twisting my insides into an indigestible tangle. I never let myself think about the effect my permanent departure had on the twins, I was so focused on my own heartache.
“I know. That was a shitty thing to do.” But apparently on brand. Because I’m a shitty person who blows up at a man I care about and drops her brother’s ashes in the dirt and can’t cry even though the most important person in her life is dead.
“I think it was self-preservation,” he says.
I blink at Adam, not sure I heard him properly.
“What?”
But I don’t get my answer right away, because he takes a large bite of his burrito and chews slowly. Only once the guy swallows does he clarify.
“I panicked,” he says. “After that summer, when you stoppedanswering our texts. I thought something happened to you. I begged Dom to drive me out to Seattle when I found out you moved there, so I could check on you.”