Fuck this. Fuck him. Fuckeverything.
“Elijah!” I hear his voice, much more distant now as I squeeze through people, making my way to the front door.
“Elijah! Hey!” Claire jumps in front of me, blocking my path before I can reach the door handle.
“Where were you!?” I hiss.
Her eyes widen. “I…was just coming downstairs to make a plate for him. I told him I’d be right back—”
I push the plate and drink into her arms. “Here you go. You can give that to him and his new guy.”
She looks down, confused. But I don’t have time to care to explain.
I need to get out of here.
November
29
Tobias
I try ringing Elijah’s phone again. The pressure in my head mixed with the pain in my heart is too much.
Come on, E. Don’t do this to me.
Ring. Ring. Voicemail.
I groan, slamming my phone down on the desk.
I should’ve known he’d act like this. No, Ididknow he’d act like this, which is exactly why I had such a fucking tough time telling him in the first place.
After Claire and Gabe tried to calm me down at the party, I ended up crying myself to sleep. Embarrassingly, might I add.
The next morning, once I knew I was sober enough to drive home, I wasted no time getting there only to find he had already left.
I can’t believe he’d do this to me again.
Always fucking leaving me. After hepromisedme he’d never do that.
I sniff and wipe the fallen tear off my cheek. I’ve been leaking like a faucet all weekend. I feel so weak without him.
Before, when he wasn’t here, I just felt lonely. But now, knowing he’s this upset with me, I feelempty—like I was once full, and someone carved me out until nothing was left but hollow space.
It’s Monday morning back in the restaurant, and my mind won’t focus on any of the paperwork in front of me.
Kegs need to be ordered, inventory needs to be counted, the schedule needs to be organized.
Yet my mind has one thing on it, and one thing only.
I pick up my phone and dial his number again.
Come on, come on, come on.
Voicemail.
I can’t stop myself. I hurl my phone across the room, wincing as it cracks against the wall. Seconds later, Jude’s picture teeters on its hinges and falls.
My heart sinks as I get up and rush over.
