Page 80 of Keeping Score

I saw what it did to families. What it did to my family.

How could I continue that cycle when I already knew I wasn’t stable enough to handle it?

Sure, I loved Brody. With all my heart, I did. And sure, maybe he thought he loved me too. But how long would it be before I messed up and he took off?

Being married would be like skating on thin ice for the rest of my life, never knowing when you might fall through. People left every day. There was no predicting why or when. There was no predicting the emptiness I’d feel if I had to experience that.

So I wouldn’t. I refused to. I couldn’t live my life in that fear. And I especially couldn’t put any hypothetical kids through that.

“Maggie,” he said again. “Say you’ll marry me. I know you’re scared, but we can do this. Together. I know we can. You have to trust me.”

I stared at him.

My beautiful boy who had the perfect family and the sunshine smile and the words to make anyone laugh at the tip of his tongue.

How could I saddle him with me? The girl who couldn’t even keep other families together, let alone one of her own making.

I didn’t trust myself. Not in relationships, especially not with kids.

My dad was right. I was like my mom. I tried to repress it and run from it, but when I felt—I felt everything.

My emotions would cloud my judgment. I’d get desperate. I would beg and cry and plead with him. I know I’d cause fights because of how much I loved him. How much I cared. I’d cause fights to test if he matched that enough to fight back.

It was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t lower myself to that, not when it wouldn’t make a lick of a difference if he ever actually decided to leave.

You couldn’t make people stay for you if they didn’t want to. And I wasn’t about to wait for the inevitable exit, fearing for that moment every day until it happened.

“I can’t,” I whispered, taking a step back as if putting distance between us would fix the hole in my chest that felt like it’d been clawed out.

Brody sucked in a sharp breath.

I didn’t know I was crying until I felt the wetness against my cheeks.

It hurt. Everything hurt. My heart. My chest. My stomach.

His face. God, I’d never forget it for as long as I lived.

Liam was right. I was a selfish bitch for causing Brody pain for the sake of protecting myself from my own.

That’s how I knew it was the right decision.

Brody was good and kind and perfect.

And me? I ruined things. Especially things that were good. I couldn’t help it. It was my nature.

And if I loved Brody, I needed to let him go. To get him as far away from me as he could, because I refused to be something he’d regret for the rest of his life.

Instead, I’d be something he lost.

I’d rather have him hate me than regret me.

So, when he handed me the keys to his car and told me to leave, I went.

Chapter Twenty

Brody

When I was eight, I almost died.