I Hate You, Mr. Boss-Man [18+]

035

Katherine

"Girl's got a lot of baggage. Are you sure you can handle that?"

It echoed in the back of my mind, replaying over and over. As if it were a harmony—a refrain in a song. I wasn't going to hold that over Caleb's head. His opinions were said on the outside looking in, and I'd already anticipated negative thoughts.

"Hey," Jesse's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, my back facing him as I sat at the edge of the bed from his youth. I hum in response, my attention trained on my hands. The door sounds shut, followed by a thud of our bags he said he'd get a while ago. I still didn't face him, feeling my eyes burn—blinking back the tears that had newly emerged. I wasn't one to make a scene in strangers' homes, not even in public. I kept my emotions pushed down until I was in my safe space. "Sweetheart...?" His shoes shuffled against the hardwood, then the carpet as he moved closer.

"I'm fine," I manage to say clearly, swallowing the knot in my throat. The bed dips beside me. Jesse's frame creates light turmoil to the full-sized bed. I turn my head away from him, looking at the lamp on the bedside table. I never thought about my shit all at once. It had always arrived in pieces, corners cut and edges dipped in guilt. It was too much to experience all at once. The devil's in the details. "The...the towels are in the bathroom, huh?" I ask, my voice breaking at the end.

"Yes, but-"

I rise quickly, not giving him a chance to finish—let alone reach for me. I rush for my night bag, walking across his bedroom into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Girl's got a lot of baggage.

I shake my head, plopping down the bag on top of the marbled sink. Why did I suddenly feel tolerated? I wasn't looking for anything to engage in after Jacob. I thought I'd reached my limit in the dating pool. Though it would seem as fate had a hand to play in my life, and she was winning fabulously. I step over to the shower stall, gripping the knobs to turn on the water—not caring if it were tepid or blistering.

I strip mindlessly, unclasping my jewelry, placing them on the counter. I pull the curtain open and step inside, the temperature of the water numbing my skin as I begin to rinse off the remnants of the day.

Are you sure you can handle that?

I don't think Caleb knew how far his strident tone could reach. I wasn't even halfway to the bathroom when it graced my ears. I grab whatever shampoo Nell had placed into the shower, pouring a gloop into my palms to wash my hair. The voice inside my head was a real asshole.

Who knew how much a few words could stick so closely with you? I did, of course, I did. You're leaving to chase some dream that's never going anywhere? My eyes close shut, tightening at the thought of my mother's words rising to the surface.

"No, I'm leaving to get away from you!" I spit, my tone laced with venom. "I'm leaving to get away from all the bullshit Jacob did to me. I'm leaving because it's what dad would've wanted!"

Her eyes widen in horror, disbelief written all over her face. "How dare you," She mumbles, "How dare you use your father as an excuse!" Her tone was taut, almost breaking. The sound of Dylan's door slamming shut rattles my chest. It broke my heart. He didn't need to hear this. I don't think my mother cared that it bothered him.

"It's not an excuse," I respond, taking in her bloodshot eyes—how they seemed like glass, unblinking almost. I knew she hadn't slept right since that night in the hospital. "I can't be here anymore," I admit, angrily wiping at my tears. "I can't keep being your daughter and therapist at the same time. That's not fair to me, and you know that."