I couldn’t let that happen.
Since that day I talked to Jared about what I should do, I’d spent every waking hour trying to think about things I could do to make her forgive me. I’d written countless letters she would never get to read because I was a coward. Because no matter what, I still didn’t have enough courage to tell her that my heart burned for her.
I still fooled myself that what I told her already should be enough, but somewhere deep inside of me, I knew the truth—Sophie needed more from me.
She was always the special one. The one that could understand me even when the words weren’t said. Even when I held nothing but resentment toward my father and when the emotions coursing through my veins could not be contained in one’s body, she still held me.
When I tasted pain, remorse, and sorrow, she still placed her hands on me, loving me when I didn’t even love myself. And now she was with somebody else.
How many times have I sat in my window, looking at hers, willing myself to gather enough courage to tell her how I felt? Countless times. So many that I even stopped counting.
How many times have I reached for my phone in the last three months, my finger lingering on top of the call button, ready to call her just to hear her voice? But I never did call because I was a coward.
“Noah, man. You’re shaking.”
I was. I could feel it all the way to my toes, but it wasn’t the cold that was eliciting this kind of reaction. It was the anger. Somebody else dared to touch what was mine.
I was tired of childish games and tiptoeing around the topic because I was too scared to lose her completely if she didn’t feel the same. While her lips told the beautiful lies, her body told me she felt everything I felt too.
Her glazed eyes and parted lips, her delicate hands that were stronger than they looked—they all narrated the story she was not ready to say out loud.
I wasn’t going to wait anymore until she came around. I wasn’t going to wait while the best thing that had ever happened to me, walked around with a guy that wasn’t me.
I broke my promises.
I tainted our memories.
But I was going to fix it whether she liked it or not.
This cat-and-mouse game was going to end tonight. Call me a fool. Call me a hypocritical bastard, but I was done standing on the sidelines, just watching her and wishing for her to be mine.
A slow song started, a song I knew too well. It was always my song for her. It would always be the one song that reminded me of her.
“Everything” by Lifehouse started playing, blasting through the speakers. The soft melody made everybody slow down, momentarily stunning them until they realized what song was playing.
Bodies moved. Faces filled with happiness as others looked at their boyfriends and girlfriends. Sophie looked lost. She scanned the crowd, her hair dancing on the wind, as if she could feel me in the crowd.
Maybe she could. I damn well could always feel her.
The fucker placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, gazing down at her as if she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. And she was—I knew she was, but she was my prettiest thing. The most beautiful girl I had ever set my eyes on.
He pulled her hands up to his shoulders and settled his own on her waist. A fire that was nothing more than a flicker earlier was turning into an inferno now, and I tossed the destroyed cup to the ground before I could stop myself.
It was like watching an accident in slow motion. My heart hammered against my chest, hitting my rib cage that felt as if it was closing down on me. My lungs felt smaller, oxygen barely getting inside my body.
He lowered his head down, going lower and lower, until he reached his goal.
Her lips—my lips.
He clasped his hand on the back of her head, moving them both in sync. My vision turned red. My hands fisted on the sides of my body, and like an out-of-body experience, I barely saw people as I passed by them, my legs carrying me toward them.
“Noah!” I could hear them yelling for me, begging me to stop, pleading with me not to do anything stupid. But all those words were a second too late. Deep down, I knew I was going to do something extremely stupid.
Something that she might add to the list of reasons why she couldn’t forgive me, but I didn’t give a fuck anymore.
People moved out of my way. Girls yelped as I passed. I could only imagine what my face looked like. It didn’t take a genius to know where I was headed.
The motherfucker lifted his head just a second before I reached them, his eyes widening at the sight of me. His lips had that cherry gloss she always loved to put on, and my demons roared even louder, itching to remove even the memory of him from her mind.
