“Alex!” he calls my name, but I can’t turn around. The sob that threatens to escape is too much. If I look at him, I will lose it. I will crumble.
“Alex!” he shouts again, this time so loud the windows rattle.
I shake my head as I head towards my car. Dark clouds move over, and it begins to rain. I open my car door as he runs down the steps, but he doesn’t make it further than the bottom step. I look at him through the window, catching his pained expression. I hate it, but I don’t go to him.
I guess I really am the asshole everyone thinks I am.
I hold his gaze for one second, wishing,hopingthat he’ll step forward off that ledge and run up to my car.
That he’ll realize I’m worth it, too.
That this life, what we have together, is worth it. That together we can do anything.
But he doesn’t move from that ledge, and I guess I have my answer.
I start the car and head down the road. The last thing I see in my rearview mirror is Jordan Mackenzie still standing on that last step.
I force myself to look away.
So this is how it ends.
I think somewhere, I always knew this was how it would end. I can never be truly happy. I know that now. Because my happiness will always be in Ashbourne.
Always.
My phone goes off ten minutes later. “Everywhere.”
I silence it and continue to drive. It goes off again. And again.
The wistful, charming chimes and upbeat oooh ahhs are the most brutal sound I’ve ever heard.
Hearing those sharp words cuts me to my soul.
I shut my phone off after an hour of hearing it. I can’t pick it up, I can’t hear his pained voice telling me he’s sorry. Telling me hecan’t.
I head home to pack my things. There’s no use in staying here, when he’s everywhere.
I need to rip this band aid off. I need to run.
This is what I was always afraid of. Letting someone in. Falling in love for real.
Giving up my heart to someone only for them to break it.
I cry like a baby as I pack my duffel. I sob until my ribs hurt, and then I cry some more.
He doesn’t want me.
He doesn’t want the things I want.
This hurts worse than when Vance broke my knee.
I rip open my dresser drawer to grab my clothes and realize I opened the wrong drawer.
His sweats and flannel shirts stare at me and I grab them. I tear them, throwing them across the room as I fall to the floor, one flannel in my hand, gripping it as I cry. I cry into his shirt like a damn idiot.
I’m so fucking stupid.
I throw his flannel into my duffel because I’m a glutton for punishment, apparently.
