I held them for a second longer, then dropped them into the bin. Just one more reminder of how much I let him take from me.
I sank into the sofa and rubbed at my face. The stitches pulled uncomfortably and made me wince. My gaze drifted toward my desk where I kept an old spare pair of glasses in the drawer. I thought about digging them out, but my whole face ached at the mere thought of having them press against thestitches.
Maybe later. For now, the blur felt easier to deal with. It would've been strange to see the world clearly, anyway, when nothing made sense anymore.
Especially Eli. He'd been there for me, offering the safety and comfort I'd always wanted from him. Hell, he probably saved my fucking life.
And I repaid him by pushing him away.
At the hospital, I was so caught up in my own guilt and fear that I twisted his words in my mind. I convinced myself he was blaming me when that wasn't what he meant at all. He was just worried, and I couldn't see that through the fog in my head.
Now that the haze was clearing, I realised my mistake. I made him walk away when he was only trying to help. And now, sitting here alone in this flat, I didn't know how to fix it.
I reached for my phone, and my thumb hovered over the screen for a long while. The urge to call him was overwhelming. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, that I shouldn't have snapped at him. But fear kept me from hitting his name in my contact list.
What if he didn't pick up? What if he'd finally had enough of my nonsense and decided I wasn't worth the trouble anymore? I wasn't sure I could handle hearing that right now.
I set the phone down, my heart heavy with frustration and guilt. I'd practically told Eli to piss off. I couldn't expect him to still be waiting after I shut him out like that.
I'd cut the last lifeline I had. But it was my own goddamn fault. I let things get this far. I let Marcus get in my head. I let him twist my sense of self-worth until I didn't even know who I was anymore.
My gaze drifted down to my arms. My hoodie hid most of the bruises, but I could still picture every mark beneath the fabric. Some of them were nowhere close to being healed yet. I clenched my fists and felt the sting as everything stretched andpulled.
My thoughts wandered back to the hospital. To waking up and the sheer relief of finding Eli there. Close enough to touch, holding me like he was afraid I'd slip away. I hadn't expected him to be so ... gentle. So careful.
At the time, my mind couldn't process it. But now, everything from that night kept replaying in my head. His hands trembling as he brushed the hair from my face. His voice cracking when he said I'd scared him. The soft kiss to my forehead. He'd never treated me like that before.
That wasn't how you comforted a friend.
I wanted to believe it.God,I wanted to believe it. But how could I? Eli never saw me that way when I was whole. Now that I was broken and bruised, the change felt hollow. How could he love me after seeing what Marcus did to me?
I'd leaned on Eli before when things got bad. But back then, I was at least still me underneath it all. This time, I wasn't sure there was anything left of who I used to be. And if he ever found out the full truth...
My stomach churned as a bitter thought sank in. It was pity. That had to be it. Eli was just acting like that because he felt bad. It came from guilt or fear, or maybe some messed-up need to protect me. Not love.
I was just the best friend. Nothing else. Even if Eli was thinking differently right now, it wouldn't stay that way. Once the fear faded and the guilt wasn't breathing down his neck, he'd realise it, too.
I couldn't let myself hope for something I'd never have. I couldn't take that kind of heartbreak on top of everything else.
But even as I tried to reason it all away, some daft part of me wouldn't let go of the possibility. If I stopped looking for excuses, I might be able to believe Eli meant it. That somehow, he really did care about me that way.
My hand moved on its own and grabbed my phoneagain. I hesitated at the contacts list, and my fingers twitched as they hovered over his name. I could call him. Hear his voice. Let him say again that none of this was my fault and he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe it would sound as real as it did at the hospital. Maybe he'd even let something else slip.
I tapped his name. The phone rang once, then again. My heart kicked into my throat. I suddenly couldn't breathe.
What the hell am I doing?
Heat crept up my neck, and I immediately hung up. I tossed the phone onto the coffee table so hard it bounced off and landed on the carpet. The silence that followed could've drowned me.
Calling him wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't make me feel any less broken. It wouldn't scrape out the doubt or the gnawing fear. I'd already pushed him away. I told him to go back to London, and he did. He didn't even fight me on it. Why would he? I wasn't worth that kind of effort.
I didn't dare let myself cling to any hope that I could change his mind now. If I let him back in and it was just the fear or guilt talking... I wouldn't survive that.
But I regretted telling him to leave. I regretted it with everything I had. Now I felt more alone than ever. And it was my own fucking fault.
I pulled the throw pillows together and carefully propped myself up against the end of the sofa, easing into a position that wouldn't put too much pressure on my chest. My whole body hurt, but the worst of it was the weight dragging behind my eyes.
I needed to rest. Reset. Figure out how I was going to deal with Marcus. That had to be my focus right now. Not Eli. Not the mess I'd made of our friendship.
