Page 52 of About the Green

Fucking bummer.

I see a couple of crates and a few boxes, and I do my best to stack them up in front of the dumpster so that I can put him inside.

My fingers are crossed that whoever is in charge of getting their trash out doesn't look too closely at what's inside their dumpster. There isn't much here, so at least he'll be low enough that I can put some of these other things on top of him for now.

Maybe Vert was right, and I'm not doing a good job.

I shake my head and realize that I'm doing this for something, and if I'm not perfect, that's okay, because getting something done is better than doing nothing at all.

Right?

With that taken care of, I find that I'm physically exhausted.

Calling another rideshare to get home is risky because I don't know how covered I am. Without Vert here to be able to help me get rid of this body, I'm gonna have to walk home.

It's a good thing that I'm not wearing any of my pretty heels because these platform sneakers are going to be my mode of transportation.

It's a long walk, and the longer I walk, the more I realize that the pain I felt might not be soothed by the vindication I'm seeking.

Maybe at one point it did make me feel better, but now I just feel wrung out and tired, like the weight that I've placed on my own shoulders is now becoming too much to bear.

I can't save every young girl out there that was once me.

Even if I diminish these numbers one by one, I haven't truly fixed the problem.

But a bandaid can make you feel better, and that's what each of these men have been—a bandaid over a wound that is still mostly open.

All I want is the assurance that I'm helping, but nobody can give that to me as long as I'm sneaking around and stressing myself out over things that I can't control.

Most importantly, the idea that Vert still thinks that I am the worst of the worst.

I thought that maybe after we slept together, after I had told him about Chris that it would have softened him to me.

But it hasn't.

Submitting to him was a mistake. It was a mistake that I was so ready to make. It was easy and comfortable because he knew what to say to put me in that space. He enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. It meant more to be, enough to where I nearly told Liezel that I was seeing someone.

Yuck.

Why the fuck would I do that?

Even she said that sex didn’t have to mean anything but I wanted what we shared to mean something.

Why the fuck would I do that? Why the fuck would I think that?

And if we're not partners—we're not in a relationship.

Then we're work acquaintances. The best I can do is get done whatever it is we have to do together so that I can be rid of him too.

How hard could that be?

Chapter 19

The rest of my weekend goes by far too quickly for my liking.

Staying in the spare room of my old house so that I'd be able to have as much time with Gracie as possible is nice, though forcing myself not to think any further about what Nina could possibly be getting up to while I'm not there to keep an eye on her is proving difficult.

I push all that aside so that I can watch the movies my daughter wants me to and actually get some quality time with her. I'm grateful that I have this opportunity because there are so many who don't get the same chance.