That might as well have been a shot to my chest.
“I see,” I say flatly. “Mind telling me why?”
“We just don’t work. We never will, and we were fools to think we could be anything but rivals …” She trails off, not meeting my eyes.
I can smell her bullshit from a mile away.
“I thought we didn’t care what people thought about us. What I’m gathering from this conversation is, you’re cutting things off based on other people’s opinions.”
She flinches at my hard tone.
“Did Leonidas find out? Is he making you do this?”
“No.”
I can’t fathom why she’s doing this.Doing this to her, to me, to us.
“No one’s telling me to do this. It’s my decision. There’re more thoughts in my head telling me why we can’t be together than why we should. I’m sorry, but this”—she gestures between us—“can’t work.”
My heart in her palm is crushed, my blood oozing between her fingers. The scarlet liquid falls to the floor before she steps into the pile.
“So, I’ll always just be your rival?” I laugh, not believing a word that came out of her mouth, not hearing over the ringing in my ears.
She swallows tightly before hugging her torso. “Yes.”
“This isn’t you. You’re not who you’re pretending to be, so how about you tell me the real reason why you’re doing this?” My throat closes up.
“I told you,” she stresses, tears rolling down her face at a rapid pace. “I don’t want you anymore. I’m not happy.”
“Since when? We were on the fucking phone yesterday, and I told you that I loved you. I fucking love you. You looked so happy. You were beaming.” I scoff, shaking my head. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, and the next day, after I admitted that to you, you’re breaking up with me?” Nothing has hurt this much. “Make that make sense.”
She knows all about the jagged inner scars in my heart, and she’s just added a bunch of her own, like I’m an art piece.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you loved me!” She wipes her tears away, taking a step back. “I didn’t want to lead you on.”
“Lead me on?” A single tear rolls down my face. “I think it’s too late for that.”
I don’t even feel angry. I’m numb.
I’m struggling to swallow down my still-beating heart as she wipes away her tears and looks toward the door. The door she’s going to walk out of and leave me all alone, just like I’ve been all my life. What’s new? Everyone walks out on me and leaves me alone to try to get through each day when I feel like I’m drowning.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I whisper, looking at her blankly through my teary eyes. “I don’t understand how you’re suddenly walking away from us.”
“I wasn’t happy. I was acting.”
Every word is a punch to my heart. Her confident yet demanding words leave me raw.
What happened to my Amelia? She would never be this careless with her words.
“Then, you’re in the wrong field.” I take a step back, feeling detached.
She looks at me like she wants me to fight for her, for her to stay. Like she can’t believe I’m standing here as she shatters me. I’m not going to beg someone to stay in my life when they don’t want to be. I never have, and I never will.
“So, that’s it? You’re going to walk away?”
She cries quietly in front of me, nodding through her tears, and I hate myself because I want to pull her into my arms and wipe her tears away.
“Okay.” I gesture to the door. Feeling cold, colder than I’ve ever been, cursing myself for letting someone in, only to get hurt in the end. What was I thinking? “Then, walk away, like you want to.”
