And with that, I’m done sharing information. “Some of them have been fairly helpful.” My tone is clipped and words vague.
She must realize she’s not getting anything else out of me, so her questioning ends, and she attempts to act like she didn’t just get caught. “Well, that’s good. I hope you catch them soon. I’ll keep my ears open and let you know if I hear anything that might be helpful.”
I study her, looking for hints of dishonesty or uneasiness.
Sadly, I find both.
Disappointment isn’t a strong enough word to describe the tumult that rushes through me, battering at the inside of my chest. Revolting emotions war for dominance in my mind, all of them clambering for the honor of breaking my heart even more than it already is.
I’m unsure what part hurts the most.
Is it the fact that the Lila I thought I knew has turned out to be as corrupt as I feared? Was it the hope I dared to feel for a future? The wish that—just this once—someone could show me there’s virtue in this world? Or how humanity constantly lets me down?
Shifting my eyes toward the driving range, I curse myself for all the time I’ve wasted hoping Lila was one of the good ones—if they even exist.
When has hope ever come through for me?
It didn’t when I was young and hoped they’d return me to that damn foster home. It didn’t when Kenzie was born, and I hoped it wouldn’t change how I was treated by my new parents. And it sure as fuck didn’t come through when I reconnected with Lila a few years ago and dared to hope for a future with her by my side.
How dare I be so fucking foolish?
After the heavy silence smothers us for far too long, Lila’s the first to break the tension. She scoots to the edge of the sofa cushion, placing her hands on her thighs like she’s preparing to stand. “Well, are you ready to get going? I’m tired.”
A half hour later, as I’m driving away from Lila’s apartment, I realize what stings the most.
There’s no ending where Lila and I wind up together, happy and whole. No future where we’re in love. Without trust, there is no path to lead us back together.
Because our relationship, like my soul, is irrevocably broken.
TWENTY-ONE
I'm the baaad guy. Duh.
LILA
Unlike the lasttime Reed dropped me off, my tummy isn’t fluttery. Well, not in a good way. This time, it feels like I ate something rancid.
I collapse onto the couch, my chin wobbling as I come to terms with what I must do.
Goodbye, freedom. I had a good run.
On the drive home, I checked my phone to find a slew of texts from Kenzie. In the last one, she asked, in coded language, whether I got him talking. I gave her a thumbs-up icon. Wearing a hopeful smile, she was waiting excitedly when Reed walked me to the door.
No cheek kiss from him this time. No real kiss either.
Not that I deserve one of those.
I haven’t had the heart to tell my bestie what a disaster I’ve made of things. She’ll see it on my face soon enough. Right on cue, she bounds in with a bowl full of popcorn under one arm and two glasses of wine.
Noticing my defeated vibe, she tampers down her excitement some. “What’s wrong? I thought you got the scoop from him.”
“I did. Sort of.”
I take the wineglass offered to me. Although I’m not a big drinker—calories and all—I’ll make an exception tonight.
She sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “So why are you sad? I figured we’d be celebrating your freedom.”
“Because it’s bad, Kenzie. It’sallbad.” My voice quivers. “And I’m destined for the opposite of freedom.”
