You Don't Have Me

Chapter 9

As your thumb crashed over the call button, your whole body shook, still not done sobbing. Through every ring your you became more anxious. You not only wanted to hear his voice but after tonight, and frankly the last few weeks, he was the only person you wanted to talk to.

Finally, on the fifth ring he answered. His voice was groggy and for a split second you felt bad waking him up, but you needed him. You needed your Dad. As soon as you heard his voice you broke down again, your body consumed but the sobbing. You should have been worried about the possibility of waking Jake up and having him finding you crying in the bathroom. But at this point, could anything really get worse?

"(Y/N), what's wrong?"

"A-are, are you still in the h-hotel?" You tried to whisper.

"Yes."

"Can you drive me home?" You managed to choke out, pushing your sobs back as you spoke.

"I'll be down in the lobby in five minutes."

That was all he said. It was all he needed to say. Your Dad could clearly see that you were hurting and he would do anything to make it all better.

You tried to collect yourself in the bathroom before quietly collecting your things in the room and leaving. There were so many more things you had to grab in the hotel, but you would have to come back for the brunch in the morning anyway, so you could grab them then. Which was good, because the fewer opportunities for people to see you like this, the better.

Across town, Tyler, even though he had left the wedding hours ago, still hadn't returned to his house. He thought that driving would clear his head but all it did was cloud it more. He had even driven by your house a few times. The worst part, was that he couldn't even figure out why, its not like you were home. He wanted to just sit on your steps and wait for you to get home, but he had tried that once and it had only backfired on him.

Sighing, he refocused on the road, his hands gripped the steering wheel harder. But his focus didn't hold long, everything he passed on the road had some sort of connection to you. Which made him think about you. Which reminded him of what, or rather who you were doing right now and more than anything, it just pissed him off. All he wanted to do was turn back time and just tell you how he felt.

But, he couldn't do that.

As soon as you walked out of the elevator and into the lobby and saw your Dad, sitting on a couch in his slippers, sweatpants, and an old Boston University Dad sweatshirt, you broke down again. At the sound of your crying he turned around and started walking towards you. Without saying anything, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a long hug, helping you to calm down before linking his arm around yours and walking out of the hotel with you, to his car.

You managed to hold it together as you got into the car and put your seatbelt on, but as soon as he started driving and asked you to tell him what was the matter, you lost it- again.

"Everything is messed up." You whaled.

"I don't think thats true." He said, calmly.

"Dad, I ruined everything. I made a big mistake tonight and because of it I may have just lost my best friend. And, when Anna finds out what I d-did at her wedding, she's going to be so mad." You continued to cry. While it was true that Anna had asked you not to sleep with the best man, she hadn't said anything about the any of the other groomsmen. And, while you didn't know for sure, you didn't actually think that she would be mad at you. You were just being dramatic because you were upset and tired and still probably a little drunk, which your Dad knew.

"I think right now all you need is to sleep. It's two o'clock in the morning and, in my opinion, nothing good happens this late at night." He said. "In morning, after you sleep, you'll know what you need to do."

You exhaled and while you didn't like his advice, you knew he was probably right, so you stayed quiet, and leant your head up against the window aimlessly watching landscape of the Dallas suburbs you were driving through. You hadn't even realized that in the time from your talk with your Dad you had managed to fall asleep and, currently you were sitting in the driveway of your house.

"(Y/N), wake up." He rubbed your shoulder as you slowly came to, realizing where you were. "We're home." He explained, and for a second you thought he meant home, like the house you grew up in, but when you realized he was talking about your Dallas bungalow you were disappointed.

"I fell asleep?" You asked.

"Yup, but that's okay. Why don't we get you inside and all ready for bed so you can go back to sleep."

"Thanks Dad, but you don't have to do that. I feel bad enough that I made you drive me all the way here this late at night." You said as you unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door of your Dad's black sedan. He nodded, letting you know that he understood you.

"Just remember, everything will work itself out. I love you." He said, as you were stepping out of the car.

"I love you too." You smiled lightly. Maybe it was the nap or maybe it was the chat you had had with your Dad but as you unlocked your front door, your already felt better. Until it hit you. You had looked at that painting ten thousand times, but at this very moment looking at it felt like taking a bullet to the chest.

You knew it wasn't the painting, it was never the thing, it was the memory that the painting was connected to. And, suddenly, you were pulled back into the fall of 2016, right before you had moved into the house.

"Do you like this here?" Tyler asked you s the two of you stared at an abstract painting that you would have never thought Tyler would have liked.

"Yeah, it looks good." You said. "Why, you don't?"

"Honestly..." He started, turning to look at you. "I hate it."

"Then why is it in your house?" You laughed.

"I don't know, my decorator picked out, but its fucking terrible." He said, cocking his head, looking at the painting, a sour expression on his face. "Do you want it?"

"Tyler, are you sure?" You said. He nodded. "Because this is probably like a thousand dollar painting, I can't just take it fro-"

"Just take the painting, (Y/N)." You smiled back at him, silently thanking him. You, of course, thanked him later with a bottle of his favorite wine, which, boy wasn't cheap. In the end the two of you ended up drinking the thing, Tyler insisting he had to share it with you.

It brought you back to the many good times you and Tyler had. You could talk about anything with him, even art. And, it hit you then that that is what you really missed about your relationship with him- the carefree aspects.

As your eyes glanced at it once more, tears began to form at the brim of your eyes. You missed him, now more than ever, and while you knew you could live without him- you didn't want to. Fuck. Why did this have to be so complicated?