First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,10

one picture,” Connor’s dad calls out, his steps fast as he tries to keep up with his son walking down their driveway.

“Dad, no!” Connor whines.

Karen laughs. “Give the man what he wants!”

I stare, fixated, my throat closing in when Connor stands in front of Karen. He’s in a perfectly fitted tux, his red tie matching her dress. Connor lifts a corsage between them, the same shade, as if they’d planned all this in advance. Then he takes her hand, places it on her wrist, and she brings that same hand up to rest on his chest: magic.

Pain blocks my airways, but I can’t look away. Not even when she rises to her toes, her lips pressed to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “You look nice.”

“Ava,” Trevor says, but his voice is distant. So far away. “Maybe we should go.”

“I’m okay,” I rush out, the words burning my throat.

“They’re just friends,” Rhys tries to convince me. But the way they turn to Connor’s dad, the way she holds his waist, the way he settles his hand on the small of her back… a lot can change in a few weeks.

Tears blur my vision.

Trevor says, “Ava, let’s go inside.”

“I’m okay,” I repeat. But I’m not. I’m so far from okay that okay is a fantasy. And I know I wanted this. For Connor to move on. For him to let his love live in someone else, but it doesn’t stop the ache.

“Rhys, let’s go!” Karen shouts, and I know that they’ll see me: this pathetic, lonely girl standing in sweats, hands tied up in false magic. And so I turn to Trevor and look into his eyes. Try to find the strength I need to keep from losing it. He stares down at me, pity laced in his expression. A frown tugs at his lips. Rhys kisses the top of my head. “I’ll see you later, A.”

I hear him leave, but I don’t respond. I keep looking at my big brother, searching for courage. Searching for hope. But there’s nothing there. “Ava…” he whispers.

And I release the first sob. “I’m not okay.”

“I know.”

I run into the house, discarding the lights by the front door, and go into my mother’s room. She’s fast asleep, but I crawl into her bed anyway.

I need her.

I need her so much. “I need you, Mama. Wake up.”

She doesn’t stir.

“Wake up!” I cry out. “I need to talk to you.” I shake her, my tears falling fast and free, my heartbreak flowing out in the sound of sobs. “Why can’t you just be my mom! I need my mom!”

“Ava!” Trevor’s standing beside the bed, trying to pull me away. “Let her sleep. You can’t be like this. Not with her.”

He grabs me by my waist and carries me to her door, dropping me back on my feet once we’re out of her room. I fall to the floor and cry into my hands. And I don’t stop. I can’t. I’ve worked myself up to the point of hysterics, and I’m breathless, the ache in my chest unbearable. “I want everything they have, and I can’t have it!” I break down. Fall apart. Release the emotions I’ve held on to for too long. My shoulders shake from the force of my cries.

Trevor leaves and returns with a paper bag. He squats down beside me and holds the bag out in front of my mouth, his hand forming the perfect O. “Come on, Ava. Breathe,” he whispers, bringing it to my lips. I take over his hand and do as he asks and cry harder when he holds me to him, stroking my hair. “I don’t know what to do here,” he says, his voice cracking. I try to settle my breathing, look up at him through liquid lashes. His eyes are red from holding back his own tears, his breaths short, harsh. His lips quiver when he adds, “I’m out of my depth here, Ava. And I don’t know what to do.” He exhales a long, shaky breath, his gaze darting to the side. “And I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Connor

We’re in the same gym the practices are held, and I’d rather be running suicides for an hour straight. The music is too loud, and the lights are too bright, and I don’t want to be here. “Do you want to dance?” Karen asks, sitting next to me.

“I don’t really dance,” I tell her. I’m a sucky date; I know this. And I should