Rachel Dyken - Toxic

“No.” I sighed. “At least not that I know of. After this morning I’m pretty sure the last person he wants to see is his dad.”

Lisa snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. I’d probably run him over with my car, so it’s probably good he’s hiding out.”

“Ready?” Mike asked.

Gabe’s eyes flickered to mine, his mouth relaxed.

I licked my lips and mouthed, “I see you.”

His shoulders instantly relaxed as he mouthed back, “I see you.”

“So, Ashton Hyde,” Mike started. “It’s been a while. Why don’t you start off by telling us where you went?”

“I think the important part,” Gabe said, nodding and leaning forward, “is not where I went but why I went.” He looked down at the ground and then directly at the camera. “Boy gets famous, boy meets girl. Boy’s world is flipped upside down, boy makes a bad choice, girl gets hurt. Boy’s heart shatters inside his chest, but doesn’t stop beating. It just continues to beat through the brokenness, even though each pump hurts like hell.” Gabe sighed. “I disappeared because suddenly my life didn’t matter anymore. It was all about hers. Getting her the best care, getting her away from the watchful eyes of the media.”

“And her parents?”

Gabe sighed, his face darkened. “The minute she became what she is now, her parents bailed. They couldn’t handle it. It was too hard, and they signed over guardianship to me. I have power of attorney, everything. We belong together. As if we’d actually gotten married.”

Mike nodded. “Yet you never wed?”

“No.” Gabe licked his lips. “We never did, but I took care of her — take care of her — as if I made those vows, even though I tried really hard to be something I wasn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“My escape was creating a new identity. I thought it would be easier. When I came to the Home I was just Ashton. When I went to college, I was Gabe, a completely different version of myself. I thought… I thought separating the two would make it less painful.”

“Did it?” Mike leaned forward. “Did it make it less painful?”

“No.” Gabe exhaled. “If anything, it made it worse, because Gabe fell in love with a girl too.” His eyes met mine. “But he shares a heart with Ashton, and Ashton’s heart will always be in limbo — waiting for his princess to either wake up or go to sleep.”

You could hear a pin drop in that room.

Lisa gripped my hand while Kiersten wrapped her arm around me. Gabe was already starting to sink lower into his chair. Emotionally, he was done.

“Let’s talk about your father.” Mike began, “What’s this business about your parents wanting you home? What’s the truth?”

“My father wants what used to be his cash cow…” Gabe shrugged. “Had he offered me love, acceptance, understanding, I would never have been put in the position I am now. I begged him to leave me in peace. Instead, he threatened the well-being of those I love the most. So that’s why I’m here, giving this interview. He can say whatever he wants, but I want my fans, my family, my friends, to know the truth. I never left them because I hated them, I didn’t lie because I wanted to. I did it because at the time, I didn’t see any other choice. And every single one of my choices was made because of her.”

“True love.” Mike nodded his approval and smiled warmly. “It sounds like true love.”

“Yeah.”

“Ashton, anything else you want to say to your fans?”

“Thank you.” Gabe’s voice dropped. “For understanding.”

“Alright, that’s it.” Mike waved at the camera crew while someone stood up and grabbed the microphone from Gabe.

Everyone started packing up while Wes approached Gabe and pulled him in for a tight hug then handed him a phone.

Gabe dialed a number, then held the phone to his ear, face tight. He looked ready to unleash on someone.

“Yeah, you wanted me parading in front of the media? You got it. I suggest you watch Mike’s show tonight. Should be on around six,” he ground out. “And when you do, just know I did it all for you, you sick son of a bitch.” He sliced the air with his hand and started pacing back and forth. “Shut up and listen, old man, because I’m saying this once. You and me are done. You can’t hurt any of us anymore, and you and your sorry ass are going to fade into the pit of hell where you belong or I will hunt you down… and kill you.”

He listened, but I couldn't tell what his dad was saying because Gabe's expression never changed. And then he cracked a smile. “You finished?” He waited a brief moment then nodded. “Good. Because those are the last words you will ever say to me, you money-hungry, piece-of-shit bastard.” He stabbed the end button on the phone and looked like he was about to throw it when Wes intervened and grabbed it out of his hands.

The silence was broken by Wes chuckling. “If ever there was a time when a person needed a drink — now’s that time.”

“Here, here.” Gabe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but when he looked at me, I could tell some of that weight was beginning to fall off.

I just hoped that by the time my surprise happened, he would be receptive and not angry that I’d overstepped my boundaries.

“Whiskey.” Wes pointed us toward the door. “It’s time for whiskey.”

If God meant for us to carry baggage around, he would have made our skin have little pouches like kangaroos. Or maybe he would have just made it so that each and every one of us were born with huge- ass shoulders to carry the load. Clearly, we weren’t made to carry the weight of the world, kinda makes you wonder why we do it anyway, huh? —Wes M.

Gabe

For the first time since Wes punched me, I drank. I didn’t drink a ton, because I wasn’t optimistic that my body would actually forget the trauma of that day, let alone my mind.

When Wes drove the car toward the dorms I asked him to turn around and drive me to the house instead.

Saylor offered to stay with me.

I turned her down.

Not because I didn’t want company, but because I knew I was in bad shape. I was a bit buzzed, emotionally distraught, and she just looked so damn pretty that I knew I’d make a giant ass out of myself and either try to seduce her in order to feel better, or end up weeping on her shoulder. Maybe both.

At this point, it was a toss-up.

I still felt pissed. I still felt angry, but that’s the thing about feelings. They don’t have to force you to make choices you know may sound good at night but ruin you come morning.

So I went to bed — by myself.

I punched my pillow a few times, letting the alcohol soothe my nerves as I closed my eyes. Sleep. Sleep would cure everything. With a sigh, I let myself fall off the ledge into a deep slumber.

I would have followed her anywhere.

It’s funny isn’t it? People claim to know what love is — yet the minute they’re given the opportunity to prove it — they bail.

I wish I could have bailed. I wish I could have walked away four years ago, then maybe I’d have the strength to walk away now. To look her in the eyes and say, “Sorry, but I can’t do this again.”

People rarely mean what they say. To me, sorry was just another word in the English language that people misused, just like love.

I love ice cream, I love pancakes, I love the color blue — bullshit, because when I said love — I meant I bled for you. When the word love actually leaves my lips — I’m speaking it into existence. I’m empowering my soul — I’m joining with yours.

I’d always heard about crossroads, how people are given choices in their lives, choices that either make or break them. I never realized that I’d be given that second chance. I never realized I’d fail to take it.

Her eyes pleaded with mine. My heart shattered in my chest, my lips moved to speak — to say anything to get her to understand the depth of what I was feeling, but I knew the minute I told her how I felt — it would be all over with.

My heart, my soul, it couldn’t survive anything happening to her. If she wasn’t in my world, my heart would stop. I knew it was killing her — because it was destroying me.

But going back to that life.

Even for her.

Was out of the question.

Falling in love, jumping out, even knowing full well that she’d catch me. It wasn’t an option. Because everyone knows, when it comes to love, it’s not the fall that hurts… it’s the landing. And I knew it was only matter of time before she gave up on me too and allowed me to break.

Because in the end… that’s all I was — broken. A shell of a human.

“I don’t understand!” She beat against my chest with her fists, “You promised me! You promised you’d never leave!” Tears streamed down her face, the face I used to love. I closed my eyes then looked behind me as Saylor clenched the keys in her hand, waiting for my decision.

I was at a crossroads all right. One path led to my future — the other to my past and utter self destruction.

I couldn’t look at her. I ignored every thread of feeling — and relished the pain of my heart breaking into a million pieces as I held out my hand in front of me, “You’re right, I promised.”

“Gabe!” Saylor yelled from behind me. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Don’t you see?” I said quietly without turning around. “It’s always been like this. It will always be like this. I warned you.”

“But—”

“Enough.” I yelled, tears threatening to stream down my face. “I said enough. You should go.”

I heard the door slam behind me.

“It’s okay!” she said, cupping my face. “It will finally be okay!”

“Alright, Princess.” I choked on the word. “Alright.” I tightened the pink scarf around her neck and put my arm around her.

“Thanks.” She sighed happily. “You always promised you’d take care of me. You can’t leave. You can’t—”

“I won’t,” I vowed, because it was my fault. Just like everything else.

“Can we go play now, Gabe?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can.” I folded the blanket around her legs and pushed her wheelchair out of the room, knowing full well that I was choosing the wrong path — with every step I took.

I jerked awake in a cold wet sweat. It wasn’t real. It was just a dream, but why did it feel so real? I really did believe all those things.

Sick to my stomach, I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost my dinner and those four shots Wes had fed me.

As the water flushed down the toilet, taking the remnants of Wes’s good idea with it, I grabbed a towel and wiped my face, then sank down onto the cold tile.

I missed Saylor.

I also missed Princess.

I didn’t want my choosing Princess to make it so that Saylor left me. How selfish could I be? I wanted both? Did I even deserve both? I knew I didn’t, but that didn’t make me want her any less. It didn’t make the cravings for her kiss, for her touch, go away.

“Damn.” I wiped my face again, stripped off my soaked clothes, and jumped into the shower. I’d only gotten six hours of sleep, but at least I’d slept.

Today was the day I had to decide whether or not to call hospice, and I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

After my shower, I walked numbly across the cold slate floors that led into the kitchen.

The sun was just starting to peek over the city.

It was beautiful — I wished Saylor could be there to watch the sunrise with me. I wished so badly that I was whole for her.

Just as I was getting ready to turn on the coffee pot, the doorbell rang. Curious, I walked over and prepared myself for some low-life reporter who’d somehow discovered my secret house.

I opened the door.

It wasn’t a reporter.

Saylor stood smiling at me. And Princess was with her, all cuddled up in her chair with blankets spread over her, an oxygen mask on her face.

A pretty woman in scrubs stood behind Princess, beaming.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, after finally discovering my voice again.

“I came here to bring Princess home.” Saylor smiled.

“Home!” Princess shouted then started coughing. “Ashton, it’s my home. From the picture!” She coughed some more as her chest rattled.