“I can’t do this to you, Jordan.” I place my hand over his. “What you did here tonight is one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me. No one has ever put in so much effort to make me feel seen. But I think I need to work on myself a little bit more before I’m in a place where I can commit to this level of a relationship with someone.” It’s already breaking my heart to know I’m making him suffer. “You’re looking for something serious. You told me that from the beginning. But I’m only here for a few more weeks. Our time together is limited, and look how I’m wasting it. I can’t do this to you. I won’t. Not to mention we’re still hiding from everyone. We still have all the same problems that made you say no to me in the first place, and here I am adding new ones. We shouldn’t do this.”
He turns away, and a piece of my soul shatters when his words turn cold. “So, I get no say here at all?”
“Jordan. You know I’m right.”
He’s silent for a long time before he swallows and nods. “If that’s how you feel, you should go.”
My heart cracks wide open, raw inside my chest, and I know it’s true. I need to leave before I completely lose myself. I scramble to get dressed. After I tuck my phone into my pocket, I reach out to squeeze his hand once more, but he pulls away at the contact.
I force my legs to carry me out of his apartment. I turn toward my own door, but I can’t be here right now. I need air.
Running down the steps, I burst through the front door of the building, letting it slam shut behind me. I make it three steps toward the parking lot before the first sob escapes my throat. I don’t know how long I stand there, arms clutched around my stomach, giving in to the grief. We could have built something so good together. If only I weren’t me.
How do you mourn something you never really had?
Sniffling, I reach into my pocket to see if I have a tissue, and realize not only do I not have one, but I also don’t have my keys. My heart sinks even further. In my hurry to get to his place, I think I left them on my kitchen counter. Jordan would probably still let me sleep in his apartment, but there’s no way I can go back up there and face him again tonight.
I can barely see through the tears as I dial my brother’s number.
Chapter 32
Shelley
"Shelley?” Mike picks up on the second ring.
“Can you come get me?” I whimper, pathetic and broken.
“What happened? Where are you?”
“Outside the apartment. I locked myself out. Can I stay with you tonight? Please.”
“Sure, but Jordan should be home tonight. He’s right there. You can call him. I’m sure he’ll help you get back in.”
“No. I can’t talk to him. I can’t. Mikey, please,” I beg.
His tone turns serious. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
And he is. My brother’s truck is barely parked before he jumps out the driver’s side. He takes one look at my tear-streaked face and I don’t have to say another word. Mike isn’t stupid. He knows.
“It was you? You were the one in the shower?” He runs a hand through his hair, his nostrils flaring while he seethes.
“Please don’t do this right now."
“I’ll kill him.” He runs past me and bounds up the concrete steps behind me, heading straight for Jordan’s third floor apartment.
“No, Mikey! Just take me home,” I call up after him, but it’s no use because he’s already run ahead. I wipe my face and reluctantly follow him back up to the unit I just left. The door is open, and Jordan is sitting on the couch, looking as hurt and sad as I feel.
“Get up!” Mike barks at him. “What the hell is going on?” He points at me, demanding his friend answer for my tears. “What did you do?”
“He didn’t do anything. It was me,” I start, but my brother is too distracted by his own anger to listen.
A neighbor pokes her head out of her door to eavesdrop, so I step inside and close the door behind me to give us some privacy.
Mike’s voice continues to rise, although I can tell he is fighting to keep calm, probably for my sake. “My sister?! Are you serious right now?”
Jordan is still sitting, but he turns to face Mike fully, resting his elbows on his knees, his folded hands hanging between his legs. He slowly lifts his chin. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Miller. Shelley can speak for herself.” His words are measured, but he sounds exhausted and defeated. I can relate.
I wipe my eyes again with the back of my hand and start to explain. “Look, Mikey, not that it’s any of your business, but Jordan didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for.”
