Cursive - By Phoebe Lane Page 0,93

Of course, that was right before he got sick and she abandoned him."

"Stop it," she warned.

Even with the conclusions that she had inevitably reached after seeing Jace and Chloe together at the house, Aislynn held a glimmer of hope that it was all a misunderstanding. But Christopher was now bringing up things that made her second-guess herself.

"And where exactly does this leave you now, love? Alone again. No boyfriend. No mother. No father. And for all intent and purposes, no Ellie either, now that she's moving in with Evan."

"You're wrong…about everything. And for fuck’s sake, stop calling me 'love.'"

"That's on you, Aislynn. You can't pin any of this on me," he said.

"I will pin whatever the hell I want on you!" she said, getting back up on her feet.

"And why is that? Why are you so angry at me?"

"No!" she said, shaking her head vigorously and pulling at her hair.

"Say it, Aislynn!"

"Shut up!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and hoped she could put her hands on him, push his chest hard, try to hurt him in some tangible way.

"Say it!"

"Fuck you!" she screamed again, her throat now raw.

"Why do you hate me?" he pressed, his body now only inches away from hers.

"Because you're no better than any of them! Because you abandoned me, too! Because you died! Because you did this to yourself, and you killed a part of me the day you drove your car off that fucking cliff!" she yelled and fell to her knees, tears running uncontrollably down her cheeks.

A few moments passed before Christopher knelt next to her and reached for her face, seemingly wanting to console her, but was unable to touch her.

"Aislynn…I’m sorry for pushing you like this, love, but this needed to be done. You needed to bring yourself to this point," he whispered in her ear. She was crying so hard that she began gagging, nothing coming up but air as she hadn't eaten anything since the day before. "Now, you have to calm down."

She sat back down on the sand and put her head between her legs, forcing big, cleansing breaths in.

"I can't do this," she finally said.

"You have to. You need to go to him and tell him. You know this, love," he said with a soothing voice. "That's why I'm here. This is the reason you brought me back. This is the only way you'll start healing."

"It's more than that, Christopher," she said, avoiding his eyes, afraid she would lose it again.

"I know, but this is the start. Now go," he said.

Aislynn pulled herself up and started walking up the beach and away from him. She felt the first droplets of rain fall on her head as she turned back to look at where she had just been sitting.

And just like that, Christopher was gone.

Jace paced in his living room, trying to decide what to do next. Chloe made a lame attempt at explaining her actions, but ended up sealing her fate the moment she said she wanted to marry him and have his babies. He immediately picked up all her clothes and threw them out the door. He didn't even give her a chance to change. She had shown her true colors that morning—she behaved like a manipulative bitch trying to get him back now that she realized he had moved on with somebody else.

He thought about going after Aislynn, but he wasn't sure where to start looking for her. She had been anything but predictable in the past, and he highly doubted she had gone home. But beyond that, there was a bigger sentiment holding him back from going after her—anger.

Jace had to admit he felt confused, frustrated, and annoyed at her reaction. Yeah, he could understand that what she'd walked into had looked really bad, but he resented her for not even giving him a chance to explain. He had never given her a reason to doubt him. He had been completely open and honest with her since the moment he had told her about his cancer, and he had even held back on pushing her for the truth about her past with her ex. He now suspected the situation with Chloe may have opened up old wounds for her and that her abrupt escape may have been a reaction to whatever had happened with Christopher.

What else does she want from me?

The minutes turned into an hour, and the anger turned into worry. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, and