I don’t want them thinking that Mason and I have been eavesdropping if they walk in to find us standing here.
“Maybe we should—” I start to say.
“Why her? What’s so special about her?” Daniella shouts.
I wait to hear Jordan’s answer, but nothing comes.
“Are you that desperate and lonely that you’d stoop to sleeping withher? Amelia’s replacement? If you wanted someone to warm your bed, I’m right here, Jordan! I’ve been here every day for two years.”
Again, Jordan says nothing.
Why doesn’t he say anything?
Mason doesn’t stop me when I quietly make my way over to the side wall nearest the archway that leads to the hall. In fact, he joins me.
Daniella hiccups and sniffles. She’s crying, which makes what she says next difficult to understand, but I hear it loud and clear.
“I never thought I’d be able to love another man after Patrick. But I do. I love you. I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I’ve spent over a year trying to get you to see that. Why can’t you see that?”
Finally, Jordan speaks up, but it’s not what I wanted to hear.
“Danni, you’re one of my dearest friends.”
I jump when she screams, “You and I are more than friends and you know it!”
When my hand comes up to muffle my gasp, Mason grips my shoulder and steps up behind me. I don’t know if it’s to provide comfort or hold me in check, so I don’t storm out and confront the two of them.
Did Jordan lie to me about the extent of his relationship with her? I guess I don’t have room to talk since Mason and I were friends who slept together, but I never lied to Jordan about it. I’ve been completely transparent about everything. And Mason’s kiss this morning was not my fault. I didn’t invite it or ask for it. I sure as hell didn’t participate in it.
But it still happened. It still hurt Jordan.
“Do you love her? Do you? Tell me!” Daniella yells brokenly.
Yes, he loves me. He said he did. Tell her.
One second ticks by. Then ten. Then twenty.
The thud of my heart grows more and more painful with each beat when Jordan doesn’t say anything.
Stupid, pathetic, ugly, fat, worthless, disgusting.
“Danni,” is all he says.
That’s it? That’s all he says when she asks him if he loves me?
Because he can’t say it.
Because he doesn’t love me.
“You disgust me. I hate the sight of you.”
I wrench away from Mason, nausea swirling in my stomach. I’m so stupid. I did the one thing I swore to myself five years ago I would never do again. I let Jordan in. I allowed him to hurt me. Again.
“I need to get out of here.”
My skin feels too tight. My panted breaths feel too labored. The tattered remains of my broken heart feel too jagged.
Bursting through to the outside patio, I bend at the waist and gulp in air like I’m dying. Because that’s exactly how it feels.
