Who I Am With You (Imagination #10) - Staci Stallings Page 0,34

she had just stung him in the heart. He looked around in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course you should have.”

“No, Greg.” She managed to get her eyes up to his. Explaining was impossible, but she had to find a way. “Look, I get it. I do. This is you now… all of you. But it’s not me. Just let me go. Okay? It’s not worth it.”

“Worth… What’s not worth it?” he asked as anguish poured through his eyes. “Taylor, look, I know this is weird, and it’s a lot to take in, but…”

“No, Greg.” Her gaze traced over to the chapel door where the others stood, some watching, most trying not to. With effort, she pulled her gaze to his. “You belong here. I don’t.” Dropping her eyes from all of it, she shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

She turned for the door, leaving him where he stood.

“Taylor…,” he said as if he knew she was right and he was helpless to change that. “Tay… don’t. Please don’t.”

But she didn’t stop as she went through and out the door. Not even for a breath. Not even for a thought. Until she was in her car. Alone.

Crying would have been nice, but it wouldn’t have done any good. And lest he get the wild idea to come after her, she started the car, and swiping at her eyes, she started to back out, narrowly missing a car going by behind her.

“Sheesh, Taylor, you’ve got to get it together,” she said to herself, sniffing angrily. “Don’t be so stupid. Just go back to where you belong. They don’t want you here. They never did.”

“What was that about?” Wes asked as Greg watched her disappear into the growing darkness outside.

She was gone, and this time, she wasn’t coming back.

Greg spun hard and came toe-to-toe with Wes. “You tell me.” His gaze slipped past Wes to the others. “All of you. You think you’re so great, that you’re so much better than her. But you don’t know. You don’t know what she’s been through. You don’t…”

“Greg,” Nelson said, coming up as he glanced around at all the others who were just there for a chapel service and not a soap opera, “let’s not do this here, okay?”

Utter exhaustion hit him. He was tired of fighting, them, himself, her. “Yeah. Sure. Fine. Whatever. I’m out.”

“Greg,” Nelson said in shock as Greg turned for the doors, “Dude, don’t just…”

At the door, Greg put up his hand just before it slammed into the panic bar, sending the door flying open. “I’m done.”

Obviously, Wes drew the short straw because he was the one who came after Greg.

“Greg!” Wes called as Greg stomped his way to his car in the back. “Greg, wait!” At the car, Wes managed to catch hold of his friend. “Wait!”

Greg spun on him again. “What?” He jerked his arm out of Wes’s grasp.

“Slow down, will you? Can we talk about this?”

“About what?” Greg asked, all semblance of calm shredded in his path. “About how you all treat her like she’s trash?”

“Come on. We didn’t even say anything to her,” Wes said, taking one step back and putting his hands on his hips. “No one even talked to her back there. I didn’t even know she was going to be there tonight.”

“Oh, yeah? And what about the last five months, huh? What about that? Have you called her? Texted her? Asked how she was? Huh? Have you?”

“I…” Wes dropped his gaze and crossed his arms.

“No. You haven’t,” Greg said, firing from point blank range. “Neither of you have.” He looked at Nelson who had come up as well, presumably for back-up, and right behind him was a very nervous looking Ryan. “She has been hanging on by a thread for a year now, and nobody even cared. None of you did. Long as it didn’t affect your perfect little world, you didn’t bother to care about hers. Did you?” When nobody said anything, Greg’s voice went up a full ten decibels. “Did you?”

Wes nodded slowly before his gaze came up. “No.”

“No,” Greg said as if mocking the word. “You didn’t. None of you did. She needed us. All of us. She needed us to be there for her, but everybody was too busy with their own lives to care about hers.”

“Greg…,” Nelson started.

“No. Nels. Don’t. You and Paige. You’re the worst. She couldn’t even come out of her room over Christmas because you were there, judging her, condemning her every time she