The Heartbroken - S01 E119

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E119

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 119

“Seriously. He won’t

stop looking,” he said,

and I tried to forget the

shiver running down my

spine as his voice filled

my head, following the

direction he was looking

at.

It was Dylan. He

averted his eyes at the

last minute, but not

before I caught him.

“It’s your mom’s

friends’s son,” I told

him, sipping my drink

through the straw.

I could tell he was

about to say

something, but that

was the moment the

band started to play,

something soft and

soothing. I recognized

the tune as something

from The Maine–Raining

in Paris. Around us,

people from the other

tables stood up and

headed to what

seemed like a dance

floor. I blinked,

surprised.

Seth suddenly rose

from his chair, making

me look up at him in

shock. He held out a

hand. “Care for a

dance?”

Flustered, I shook my

head. “That–that

doesn’t even make

sense. This is a sad

song. Why would

couples dance to it?”

“Come on,” he said. “It’s

not about the song.”

“Seth,” I said, giving him

a pleading look.

He rolled his eyes. “Are

you really going to

reject dancing with me

while that creep of a

guy is watching?”

“Your mom will be back

any minute now.”

“She can handle herself.

Come on.” He reached

for my hand and I let

him gently pull me up.

He led me to the dance

floor, paying absolutely

no attention to my

protests. When we got

there, he placed his

other hand on my

waist. I put mine on his

shoulder and we

started swaying slightly

to the music.

“How’s my mom so

far?”

His electric blue eyes

were fixed on mine, his

face an unreadable

mask.

I let out a deep breath

and decided it was

better to just go with

honesty. “I don’t know.

I thought–I thought I

was going to hate her

completely.”

He stayed quiet, looking

down at his feet. I felt

compelled to say more.

“I don’t know what to

feel,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and

tried a smile. “Don’t be.

You don’t have anything

to be sorry about.”

“It’s just… It’s like I

know she’s a good

person, who just

happened to make a

bad decision.” I didn’t

know why, but I

suddenly stepped

closer, finding the need

to press the side of my

head against his

shoulder. “A really bad

decision. But her affair

doesn’t define her as a

person. It doesn’t

define her whole

character. It doesn’t

nullify the other good

things about her. It’s

just a mistake.”

I heard him take a

sharp intake of breath

and felt his shoulders

rise, but he didn’t say

anything.

I continued, “I’m not

saying it’s okay to

ignore it, because it’s

not. What I’m saying,” I

said, pulling away to

meet his eyes, “is that

it’s just one thing about

her that you can’t love,

but that doesn’t mean

you can’t love the other

good things.”

He closed his eyes, and

when he reopened

them, he smiled softly

at me. “Why do you

always know what to

say?”

“What are you talking

about?” I asked him. He

was the one who

always knew what to

say, not me.

“When I told you how I

hate myself? For not

being able to tell Dad

about Mom,” he replied.

“It’s like you can look at

things in a different

light. In a way that

most people can’t.”

I shook my head.

“You’re just overthinking

this.”

“No,” he said, “no, I’m

not. Most people can’t

see through the bad

things. You can. You

acknowledge the bad

things but you can still

see the good things.”