I played in that.”
I reach out and clasp his hand, squeezing it because I believe him, and I want him to know it’s the same for me. Even if I still want to ring his neck.
After a quick stop in LA to refuel and to let Chad off the plane, I continue on. Chad insisted I stay on the plane instead of trying to navigate a commercial flight. He said Jess needed me, and by the time I land, rent a car, and drive the couple hours to the town I grew up in, it’s so late I don’t even know what day it is anymore. The only time I turned on my phone was to text Jess that I landed and was on my way.
That was it.
I didn’t check to see if I had missed texts. I didn’t check to see if I had missed calls or voicemails. I don’t want to know either way. I’m raw and devastated and so fucking sad I can hardly stand to be in my own skin.
Driving didn’t help. I was able to nap on the plane some, but driving, listening to music is not helping me. I want to drive to the house he grew up in with that man and kill him. Or at least scream in his face and hurt him. I’d love to find his mother too and give her a real piece of my mind.
So much of my life in this town was spent pining away over Henry. Idolizing him. Following him around. Only instead of growing out of my infatuation the way most little girls do, my infatuation grew into a love I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get over.
I miss him.
And I absolutely fucking hate that I do.
I don’t want to love him anymore.
That doesn’t stop me from crying the entire drive and by the time I pull into the motel Jess is staying in because it’s too painful to stay at her parents’ house, I’m such a fucking wreck I can hardly put one foot in front of the other.
She opens the door after the first knock, her blonde hair in wild disarray, her face puffy with grief. The moment she sees me her eyes instantly start watering and before I know from anything else, I enter the room, drop my bags, shut the door, and hug my friend.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her. “I’m here and we’ll get through this together.” All of it, I think.
Thirty
HENRY
“Here,” Maia snaps, shoving her phone in my face. “Read this.”
A scowl purses my lips, the burning on my jaw and the sting in my cheek from where Keith hit me morphing into a throb I gladly welcome. I stare at Maia’s phone like it’s the anti-Christ. I don’t need to read how badly I fucked up. I don’t need to read how I didn’t trust her, and I didn’t talk to her, and I didn’t listen.
Still, I take her phone and force myself to read what I can only assume will be a straight shot to the heart.
Eden: I had to leave. But you should know I took your advice with Henry. It didn’t work out so well though. Sad, crying face emoji and a broken heart emoji. Awesome.
Maia: What happened? Where are you? I talked to Henry earlier and he was going to talk to you and then come clean to Keith.
Me: My friend’s parents died, and Chad came to get me. I’m about to get on a plane for Alabama. But Henry and I did talk. And it went something along the lines of, our fling is done and now we can go home and pretend like it never happened.
Maia: WTF?! No. I’ll kill him for that. Wait. Are you with Chad again? Why did he come for you?
Me: Absolutely not. Chad flew out here to pick me up and I made it clear to him already that it wasn’t going to happen. I’m crazy, but I fell hard for the stupid rock star.
I suck in a sharp rush of air, reading and rereading that last line over and over, my heart about to explode and my brain calling me every synonym for asshole under the sun.
Maia: Something is wrong, Eden. This is not what Henry and I talked about at all. He was going to tell you he wanted more with you too.
Eden: Well, clearly, he changed his mind.
Eden fell for me. Not just fell for me but fell hard. Like I did