CHAPTER 3
Depression
I plopped down on my bed, staring out the dark window. I hadn't returned home until hours later, too shocked and shaken to bother returning to the spot Mom had told us to go to. I didn't want my family to see how.. Sad, I was. We had kept our relationship a secret for all this time, so there was no way I was going to out us now. Instead I had lied and told them I had met an old friend in the crowd, and was too caught up in my conversation with them to notice what time it was. Mom served a celebratory supper of fish and potatoes. I picked at my food silently as the rest of my family gossiped excitedly, giving one or two-worded answers when prompted. Eventually I just gave Ivy my left-overs, claiming I had eaten with my "friend" earlier that day. I was starving, having only had an apple earlier for breakfast, but I had I feeling I would end up choking if I tried to swallow anything, my throat tight. I stood from the table last, clearing the dishes away and washing them, even though it was Kamber's turn.
I just wanted something to occupy my thoughts, but found it did the opposite, enabling my mind to wander as my body was set into autopilot. I lost America. I lost the love of my life. I lost my almost wife. I should've bought the ring, I should've proposed that night, I should've told her to not put her name in. A realization hit me, and my scrubbing ceased, staring at the soapy water blankly.
This was my fault.
If I hadn't encouraged her to put her name in, she wouldn't be in the lottery. She wouldn't have been chosen to go to the palace. She wouldn't have been stolen from me. It's my fault. If I had bought that stupid ring earlier, she wouldn't be spending the night at the capital. It's my fault. Stupid. "Forget how to do the dishes, Aspen?" An amused voice from behind me said, and I jumped, glancing over my shoulder. Celia was walking past, and had paused, smirking at me. I shook my head, clearing my throat as I resumed my scrubbing. "No, I uh- I just realized something." I mutter, focusing my attention on a particularly slippery spot of butter. "What'cha realize?" She asks, and I panic for a moment. What do I say, what do I say? I search for a lie. "Uh- Th- The brain named itself." I try, and Celia blinks. One of my nicer clients had told them their own realization earlier that week, and I hoped I hadn't told Celia yet. A few times I had told the same story over again, to the same person. Another blink, and her slender brows raise. "Oh wow, you're right." She turns and walks into the small living room, no doubt to tell the rest of the family of my "realization". That was close. Closer than I wanted. I rinse the soap from the plates and glasses as my thoughts turn back to America. She had barely paused when our eyes had met. Had she already moved on? Or was she too scared, or too pressured by her schedule? Did she actually realize it was me, or did she think I was a fan? I felt my nose crinkle at that thought. Of course she wouldn't think that. She was one of the humblest people I knew, and would never think she had "fans". She knew it was me then. Why did she not say anything? Why did she decide to leave? She could've easily jumped from the stage, and ran into my arms, an embrace worth a million words.
But she didn't. And it was my fault.
Stupid.
Why did I tell her to sign up? Why? Yes, she deserves Royalty, but she hadn't wanted to in the first place. I did this. Stupid. I dry and put the dishes away swiftly, and head into the bathroom, brushing my teeth at least a half hour before schedule. Again, my body went into autopilot, and I tried to reign in my thoughts. Alright, okay, okay. America was probably going to come back pretty soon, right? Not because she wasn't pretty, -she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen- but it would probably be her... Personality, to be honest. She fit the stereotype of redheads being hotheads to a "T". She always tried to control it with me, but she had let it slip a few times over the years. Royalty was always about keeping your cool, and she was not the best at being "cool". If only she had gotten angry at me in the tree house. I would probably have realized what an idiot I was, then. She was surprisingly subdued, now that I think about it. Maybe- "You're already brushing your teeth? You must be tired!" I turn, startled again. Mom stood in the doorway to the bathroom, a basket of laundry on her hip. I nod, spitting toothpaste into the sink. "Yeah, going to call it an early night." I say, rinsing off my toothbrush and wiping my mouth. "Alright, we won't be too loud. Have a good sleep, honey." She says softly, and I nod, turning back to look in the mirror.
I sigh as I remember staring at the bags under my eyes, and the strained sound of my voice, emptiness clinging to my very being.
I pull off my shirt, and tug on my pajamas, trying my hardest to forget the previous afternoon. Just sleep. It didn't really happen. Just sleep. I stand and flick off the light, swallowing as I stare at the window above my small bed. Not going out tonight. Or any other night, probably. I close the blinds and slip under my heavy covers, squeezing my eyes closed. My fault. It's my fault America's gone. My fault I ruined everything. Stupid. My eyes open, and I turn over, facing the window now. She probably hates me. I made her sign up and put her name in, when she didn't want to. Now she's in the capital, with stuck-up people, and even worse, a stuck-up Prince she was supposed to- to seduce. I turn onto my back. I had been so focused on losing her to the capital, I had forgotten what she was supposed to be doing there. She was going to try to win Prince Maxon's affection. He was probaly going to touch her how I touched her, kiss her like I kissed her. Love her like I love her.
Prince Maxon was going to love her, wasn't he? It was impossible not to. She was going to win the Selection, wasn't she? She was going to fall in love with Prince Maxon, and he was going to fall in love with her. She was going to forget about me within the first week, wasn't she? Who wouldn't forget about everyone else, when there was a Prince in the same building as you? I turn onto my side again, and I feel my heart squeeze, and I could feel the prick of tears behind my eyes. I blinked and sniffled, turning again. No, no stop it, Aspen. She loved- loves you, she wouldn't forget about you like that! Maybe she just needed a small break? Maybe this little trip would make her love me more? Make her realize how much she misses me? Stupid. Of course she won't! She'll be too busy touring the palace, and talking to the other Selected, and "seducing" Prince Maxon. She won't me miss at all.
She'll realize what a dick I've been and try to stay as long as she can, so she won't have to deal with my stupid ass. Had she even loved me in the first place?
I wouldn't have turned so quickly if I saw her running after me. The tears blurred by vision, and I dug my face into my pillow, turning onto my stomach. America was probably going to win. She was going to win. She'll forget all about me. Why would she need to be bothered when she's princess? She's already forgotten, I bet. I sniffled again quietly, not wanting to be heard through the thin walls. It's my fault. She left because of me. She left because of me. She left because of me. Stupid stupid stupid. My fault...
Stupid... My fault...
It took me a long time to sink into unconsciousness, listening to my thoughts and the hustle-and-bustle of my family getting ready for bed, tears soaking into my pillow. I eventually cried myself to sleep at three in the morning, only from my pure exhaustion of being awake.
Whoo boy,
'Bout to get deep!
(Also sorry for the "swears", I couldn't think of another way for him to blame himself, really.. o_0)
Onto the next (trashy) chapter!
