Without another word, without a second glance, I lifted my shirt from the ground, followed by my jacket, and walked away.
If I had anything to do with it, this would be the last time I would ever try to fix us, to be what we used to be.
12
SOPHIE
My constant companionsfor the last three months were the tears I usually let out at night, when nobody else was there to see me breaking apart.
That first night when he broke my heart, I thought I was going to die from grief. I had no idea that pain like that could exist—but I was so fucking wrong.
Last night proved that.
After Noah left me there, and after I was sure that he wasn’t coming back, I broke down, letting all these emotions I kept close to my heart come out. The grief over a friendship we had. The pain over the love I felt. The sorrow over what I just did.
I saw it there, clear as day—he wanted me. He really wanted me, and I pushed him away.
Noah didn’t know the truth, and he could never know the truth. I knew what it would do to him, because I could see what it was doing to my family.
The devastation at such news was not something I wanted for him.
I had no idea how much time passed since he left me there, but eventually I picked myself up and drove home. I stopped three times when the tears became too much for me to drive, when my lungs seized so much, cutting off my oxygen. I couldn’t forgive myself for what I just did.
I came home just before ten, but my body felt as if I’d just ran a marathon. For the first time in I didn’t even know how long, I didn’t go to sleep with a headache but without yet another piece of myself.
I just hoped that one day he would be able to forgive me.
I fucking hated mornings. I hated them even more when I slept for only one hour and when my eyes were so swollen that I knew I would have to put on ice packs to reduce the swelling. I loathed them because I knew that if I just looked through the window, I would see him there, even if he wasn’t physically present.
But last night… Last night the light never came on in his room, and I couldn’t help but obsess over his whereabouts and if he was okay. It wasn’t his fault I pushed him away—it was mine. I hated myself for every single word that left my mouth.
I dragged myself out of the bed and into the bathroom. Instead of seeing the happy look on my face, which was what I always imagined I would look like after I slept with somebody for the first time, I looked like death dragged me back from hell.
My eyes were sunken and the dark circles around my eyes rivaled pandas’. I unbraided my hair and turned toward the shower, sick at myself and what I’d become.
Sick at seeing the pain in his eyes.
My actions had consequences, and if he didn’t stop trying before, he definitely would now.
I slowly took off my shirt and my panties, and saw the streaks of blood on them—evidence of what happened last night. Proof that it wasn’t just a dream. As I turned to the side to turn on the shower, my hair got in the way, and the scent still lingering on the strands almost sent me into another fit of crying.
My hair still smelled like him. My lips still vibrated, remembering how his felt on them, and my skin burned where he touched me.
But I knew that whatever he felt last night would be replaced by bitterness and anger, and while he tasted like sunshine as his lips pressed against mine, I was sure that the memory of mine for him would taste like poison.
I looked down and saw the bruises at my hips and as I turned to the side to look at myself in the mirror once again, I saw the hickeys lining up all over my neck, my chest, and on top of my shoulders.
I couldn’t even be angry at him, because this was who he always was. Even when we both pretended that we were nothing more than friends, he always had a tendency to shield me from everybody else, always wanting my full attention on him.
Now I knew why.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to erase the pictures clogging my brain.
Noah above me, his eyes shining with love, his words, his soft caresses. I knew I would never get any of those ever again.
Last night was my final goodbye. I just hoped that one day, maybe a couple of years from now, he would understand why I did what I did. Why I pushed him away and why I decided to stop this thing happening between us.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. I couldn’t know. The only saving grace was that he wouldn’t have to go through all these… things, with me.
