one of those girls who tend to make dramatic productions over everything. I’m not one of those girls who make a habit out of testing her boyfriend, pushing him away to see how hard he’ll pull her back.
But I’m desperate here. I’m grasping for straws. The reality of the past several weeks is slipping through my fingers like sand, and everything I thought we had feels like it’s disintegrating before my very eyes.
“Maybe,” he says, “but not in the way you think.”
There we have it.
The truth.
He is holding back because of her.
That’s all I need to hear. No explanation necessary. Before I say another word, I’m tromping up the stairs, grabbing my purse and my shoes.
“Where are you going?” he follows.
“Save it.”
“What? Why?” Ace scoffs, throwing his hands in the air before running them through his still-damp hair, pulling fistfuls as he groans. “Aidy, don’t do this. It’s not what you think. I’m not in love with her anymore. And that fucking journal isn’t mine.”
My jaw slacks as our eyes meet. He’s still lying. He’s lying to my face.
“I can’t be with someone who can’t even be honest with himself.” I face him at the top of the stairs. My bottom lip quivers. “You know, every time I’ve tried to ask you about your past, you shut me down. And when I ask about your family? Your brothers? You don’t talk about them. It all makes sense now. You can’t talk about them, or your past, without thinking about her.”
He doesn’t argue.
The last several weeks flash before my eyes. My chest is so heavy I can’t breathe. I never meant to get attached to him. I never wanted to be this vested. We were only having fun, and then he had to look at me the way he does and kiss me the way he does and touch me and want me and need me like he does.
Or so I thought.
“Aidy.” His hands hook on his hips, and he blows an exhausted breath past his lips, tired stare locked in mine.
I glance at him through watery eyes, all his lines and edges blurring together until I can no longer make out the full lips I used to kiss or the chiseled arms that used to scoop me up like I was weightless.
“You want to know what happened? Fine. Another man and I were in love with the same woman,” he says. “Shit happened. She chose him. Life went on. The end.”
Shaking my head and looking down, I bite my lip to keep from saying something I’m going to regret. All those ramblings, those journal entries declaring unwavering devotion to Kerenza flash through my mind.
If he can just sum everything that happened with “life went on” because he thinks it’s what I want to hear?
Because he thinks it’ll make me stay?
Then he truly is heartless.
I leave, dashing down the stairs like some embarrassingly dramatic Cinderella reenactment, but I don’t care. I don’t want him to see me fall apart. Grabbing my makeup case at the bottom of the landing, I fling the door open and carry myself, bruised ego, broken heart, and all, to the nearest subway stop.
I’ve never been more grateful to come home to a silent apartment than I am right now. Ever since Wren found out she’s pregnant, she’s been spending more time at Chauncey’s, and since their wedding is just around the corner, she’s already starting to gradually move her things in over there. Enzo’s too.
The apartment is dark, save for the light under the microwave. I place my things by the door and shuffle toward my room. I spread myself across the bed, face down, and tuck a pillow beneath my chin, gaze pointed at that fucking journal.
Exhaling hard, I reach for it, flipping through the pages as if I’m searching for some time-sensitive clue.
“She showed up at my door last night, cheeks stained in mascara, lipstick smudged, jacket dusted in thick snowflakes. She was a beautiful mess of a woman, and I pulled her in from the street, carrying her to the fireplace, her fingers locked tight behind my neck, holding on for her life.
She broke down, crying, going on about how he doesn’t understand her the way I do. He doesn’t listen to her. She’s never felt more alone than she does when she’s at home, with him. He loves her too hard, she says. He makes it impossible to leave because she’s terrified nobody will ever love her half as much as he