Once we were alone, Percy twisted until he lay on his stomach beside me, chin on his clasped hands.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked.
“No.”
“Hungry?”
“No.”
He grabbed my phone off the charger.
“What’re you doin’?” I asked.
“Callin’ Jamie.” He turned to me and crossed his fingers. “Hopefully, Michael doesn’t have the phone.”
“Text first.”
Percy nodded, and the phone rang seconds later.
“Do we need to come up there?” Jamie said on speaker. “Michael’s good for a beatdown anytime.”
I shook my head, and Percy said, “Noted, but all jokes aside, I don’t think we’re there quite yet.”
“Percy? Where’s Asher?” Jamie asked.
“He’s here with me, but it’s worse than he let on, Jamie.”
“Asher?” Jamie said softly, as if he were on my other side, sandwiching me between them.
I broke and ugly cried my soul out.
“I-I told him I l-love him,” I choked through snot and a summer shower’s worth of tears.
They cried with me because they were awesome like that. At least I wasn’t alone. Maybe they didn’t share the pain as acutely, but they hurt because I hurt. Because they were my friends.
God, I hoped Luke didn’t hurt this badly. An agony so deep and profound he’d need others to help carry the buckets of torment.
Breakups,I’dnowhadthe horrid pleasure of experiencing, were akin to the five stages of grief. And that wasn’t me being melodramatic because I researched it. Thoroughly. Love songs were sad for a reason. Classic romances were tragedies best read, not lived.
Love fucking sucked.
In the weeks after Asher walked away, ripping my heart out in the process and leaving me confused at how in the hell things went so badly so quickly, I’d had my share of those grief stages.
Denial was fleeting. I wasn’t even sure if I could call it denial, though. It hurt too much to be anything but true.
Asher had shown me his cards. He’d manned up, and in a precious few moments during the aftermath, I was so proud of him. Not once had he ever been anything but authentic. Okay, well, him being Ashley notwithstanding, but even then, he was himself by another name. I shouldn’t have expected anything less than him taking life by the horns and going for what he believed in, what he knew to be right for him.
Anger came next and stuck around for a few awful days. Iwas pissed at everything. Life, Asher … Why had he shown me heaven only to drop me into hell? How cruel. Why had he teased me with acceptance only to throw it back in my face? Asher had given me himself, his heart, his body, his laughter, his hopes, his family, his world, and then snatched it all away.
I should never have agreed to dating him in secret or as Ashley in public. I’d set us both up. I got comfortable. I’d allowed myself dreams of a future I’d never dared to wish for. I’d cursed him in my thoughts. Then, with sudden clarity, I cursed myself.Iwas the issue, not him. Asher had been perfect. He’d given me a taste of life. Ignorance was bliss, they said, but knowledge led to change.
The third stage, bargaining, caught me in a tailspin. I ran through so many what-if scenarios I’d been dizzy. What if I gave in to my family? My parents would be thrilled. If I couldn’t have Asher, then it didn’t matter who I ended up with. No one would compare. No one would draw smiles from me like breath from my lungs. No one would capture my mind and imagination until no corner was left untouched. No one would look into my eyes and seemethe way he had so easily.
And that ushered in depression. No one would be the same to me as Asher had been. No one would own my heart, not even close, so what was the point? What was the point in anything?
I’d been dodging calls from my mother since Asher broke up with me, but she left messages I tortured myself with by listening to. I deserved the punishment.
The Georgina ship had sailed. Mother went on and on in her passive-aggressive way, then turned unwanted interference into setting me up with other women. She could keep filling my voicemail, but it wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would, except the one person who didn’t want me anymore.
