The words drop like stone to the floor between my feet, filling the quiet with all the agony that comes out with them. Lucas doesn’t say anything, and a broken scoff tears from my throat. I don’t know why I bothered saying it. He knew it, even if I never said it when we were younger. It doesn’t change anything. Neither does the fact that?—
“I could have loved you again.” Every syllable slices my throat from the inside out, and I choke on the silence that sits heavily in the air. “Your fucking loss.”
It’s not. I’m the one who just lost everything, and he’s the one who will walk away and be fine.
Just like last time.
The slam of the trailer door behind me echoes like a gunshot over the stillness of the ranch, and I take off running toward the house. I don’t give a shit if someone sees me, if someone hears everything. How could that matter when Lucas doesn’t stop me, doesn’t chase after me?
I can’t care less if Mary or Dad hear when I burst back into the house. It’s their fucking fault he’s here in the first place. They should have shipped his ass right back to Utah as soon as the funeral ended.
But no, they had to feel bad for the most callous, cruel bastard I’ve ever been unlucky enough to meet.
And fall for.
Twice.
God, how could I be sostupid?
I dash to my room in a haze of tears and heartbreak, the world spinning too fast as I stumble through the door. My breath comes in unsteady bursts, and I slump back against the door, trying to get the pounding of my pulse down to something reasonable. It’s stubborn, throbbing so hard I can see it in the corners of my eyes, my vision tunneling as panic overtakes me.
I slide down to the floor, every inch of me trembling, and tuck my head between my knees.
In, hold, out. Six seconds for each. Or is it three? Fuck, I can’t think enough to even breathe properly. My skin is too tight, crushing me smaller and smaller, and I can’t tell if the room is frigid or if I’m about to start sweating. The only thing I can be sure of is that I’m about two seconds from throwing up.
I know I won’t, though.
I didn’t last time.
And this is just like last time, isn’t it? I got my hopes up, planned for the possibility of a future, and before I could even talk things through with Lucas, he ripped it out from under me. I would have done anything back then, would’ve scrapped my plans for Tallahassee before I even sent my application in, would’ve found a way to balance work and school in Utah. All he had to do was ask me—fuck, all he had to do wastellme sooner. But no, all I got was half a week’s notice and a stilted goodbye.
It had been a hell of a kick in the ass back then, and it’s even worse this time. Why did I think that he’d take things seriously now when he dropped me so easily all those years ago? He hasn’t changed in the slightest. He’s still the same impulsive, selfish, arrogant asshole who ripped me to shreds when we graduated.
And I’m just as much of an idiot as I was back then.
I don’t even know when he’s leaving this time. Just a vague timeline ofwhen he nails down a start date. That could be tomorrow, or a month from now.
Will I wake up one day to him already having left?
Will he move out and move on like last time?
Will he forget about me for good?
“Fuck.”
I choke on the word as it forces its way out, my entire body spasming with all-encompassing agony. I swore I’d never let someone put me in this position again, that I wouldn’t let myself get hurt like this. Maybe it’s better that it was Lucas who did it both times—at least I know it’shimthat has a problem and not me.
At least I can pretend to believe that.
It’s not like I’ll ever let anyone close enough to find out. Never again.
I made that decision last time, swore that I’d never give anyone a chance. It didn’t matter if I was missing out on potential happiness, because I knew that I was saving myself from heartbreak. I’d rather be jealous of the people around me for finding the right one than collapse against my bedroom wall in anguish.
And look where I am.
God, I’m so fuckingstupid. He didn’t even pretend to want more than sex, never said that we were going to get back together. Nothing he said during sex counts, no matter how desperate I was to believe that he meant it when he said I was his.
Fucking pathetic.
