“Because of fucking Tony.” Rage…rage I could barely contain. “That’s why you walked away? After everything we did together.”
“You made it clear, Aaron, we had afakerelationship to help your future.” Her words were hard. Like punches to my gut. She wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah, but—”
“But what? The sex was a fun part of it. Additional bonus. You’ve slept around. You know you can just fuck.” Her fiery eyes burned. And it wasn’t with passion.
If I were a smarter guy, I would’ve got her reference. But I wasn’t a smart guy sometimes and right now, all I saw was hurt and anger. My chest hurt in the worst way. “That’s all it was to you?”
She flinched. “What was it to you, Aaron? How doyoufeel?”
“I miss you and I can’t stand the thought of you with that guy.”There. I said it.My heart raced. Maybe…maybe things would go back to normal.
She ran her tongue over her teeth with a sneer. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry you’re having a little bit of jealousy but how do you think it’ll look t-to Tony if I’m constantly hanging around my so-called ex?”
Oh god.“So. That’s it.”
“For now, yeah.” She pushed her long hair out of her eyes and, with a shaky hand, held up the phone. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”
She walked out of her room. She left me there with all the memories and laughter, pictures of the two of us all over the room.When did it become real for me? Why did I think…why did I think it was real for her, too?
I’m a fool.
I deserve this.
“Hilly—you ready to eat, bro?”
Zade’s cheerful voice snapped me from the guilty pit of misery my brain went to. I took a deep breath. I’d lived without being in a relationship my entire life, I could continue doing just that.
I would just do it without the joy that Greta brought.Yeah right—I’ll be miserable.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Greta
My life turned into a sad shadow of happiness. I sat for three continuous hours watching world championship cornhole games on TV. Callie joined me an hour ago and became invested. So now we cheered for Charles from a hick town in Missouri to win the grand prize to help raise his Labradors at home.I define the word pathetic.
“I’m really living it up my junior year. I’m going to be alone on the night before Christmas Eve watching Charles celebrate a comeback win.” I studied the drink in my hand and finished off my third one of the night. “When are you heading out?”
“I don’t know.” Callie’s face was an open book. I knew she felt guilty about leaving me alone with my private heartbreak. But it was a big night with her eating with Zade’s family. I saw her nerves and attempted to bottle up my anger. But I failed. Her wide eyes and hesitant smile gave her away. “I can stay here with you.”
“Cal—go have fun with your man candy. It’ll piss me off if you’re here for pity.” Popcorn fell off my shirt, landing between us on the carpet. It was symbolic. “I have no qualms about watching Charles and drinking myself into a slumber.”
“I hate this shit so much. I envisioned something quite different for the holidays. All of us with eggnog, at a bomb New Year’s party.” Her twisted lips came together.
“Yeah, well, I did too.” I tucked my knees to my chest. “Please go. I’ll feel even worse if you stay here. I’ll be okay. I have lists. Plus, I’m leaving tomorrow morning to head home.”
She flicked her gaze toward the coffee table. I had a bottle of champagne, a stack of Harry Potter books, and papers everywhere. Did I mention a box of tissues? Because I was a crier now. I cried at commercials. At couples when they danced to my music at the bar. I missed Aaron. He was like the air. Without him, breathing was hard. Enjoying moments was hard.Everythingwas hard.
If this was what love did to people, I wanted to exclude myself from it. From every part of it. It had been a week since I’d seen him last. Since he visited me in my room, we hadn’t spoken. He’d stopped texting. Stopped calling. Stopped visiting. But that didn’t stop me from checking my phone every second with the small, outrageous belief that this hadn’t happened.
And yesterday was the official, final date of our proposed relationship. My eyes stung again. He’d announced it on social media—per the plan. But it was like a knife to the gut.Don’t cry. Knock it the fuck off.
“Greta?”
“Yeah, Cal?” I sniffed and hoped my eyes weren’t red. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“He’s suffering, too.”
