He must see the question on my face, because he reaches into his desk drawer and procures a stack of papers. Flipping to the last page, he shows me a digital signature in Vanessa’s handwriting. He closes it back up, holding it out to me. “Take it.”
I yank the papers from his hand. A hiss flies out of his mouth, and I hope the fucker got a papercut. I don’t look down at them, not caring about the details. They don’t matter. The only thing important here is leaving this life behind and convincing Vanessa she matters more than any of this ever could.
“You are out of my life. You won’t control me anymore. You can’t order people in my life around. You are a small, pathetic man who uses his fists and words to control others, but I’m done being your punching bag. You’ll never lay another hand on me again or I will talk.” His eyes widen with shock like it’s never occurred to him that I could speak out on this. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
With those parting words, I head out. I shut the door behind me. I don’t slam it, there’s no point. He doesn’t deserve anything from me, not even my anger, because he doesn’t mean a thing to me.
42
Vanessa
With an exhausted exhale of breath, I upload my last paper to my Marketing in the Digital World class.
I’m done.
That’s it.
College is over … well, basically.
I still have to wait for final grades to be put in, but I have no doubt I’ll pass despite the less than stellar way I’ve been feeling. Closing my laptop, I shove it aside and stand up to stretch. My body pops and cracks like I’m eighty-two. That’s what I get for sitting still too long.
The door to the suite opens and shuts with a click. “Please tell me you’re down to share a pizza tonight?” Danika practically begs, sounding exhausted. “I’m starving and don’t feel like cooking.”
“Pizza sounds great.” Stepping out of my room, my eyes dart to the stack of letters in her hand. “Jeez, what’s all that?”
“It’s for you.” She holds them out to me. They look like they’re all the same size and roughly the same thickness. “They don’t say who they’re from. I finally dropped by the mail room because I had an Amazon package arrive.” She waves the yellow package. “They just have your name on them.”
Puzzled, I take them from her. She’s right, all they say on them is my name. No dorm address. No stamp. No nothing.
Odd.
She tucks her package underneath her arm. “I’m going to order the pizza. You cool with mushrooms?”
“That’s fine,” I say distractedly, fixated on the scribble of my name and the handwriting I recognize.
We both head to our rooms. I close my door behind me wanting privacy as I spread the letters onto my bed. My heart feels heavy with hurt and excitement.
I grab one at random and open it carefully, not wanting to rip the edges.
Pulling out the piece of paper, Teddy’s scrawl fills the page.
This writing letters thing is weird, but somehow therapeutic. Jude told me to remind you that I’m here, and I figured letters were a good way to do that—not intrusive but something physical you can hold that shows you no matter what, I’m always here for you. But I’m finding that writing these to you makes me feel better. Even if you never read them, I think this is necessary for me.
I know I’m not the best at expressing myself in words. What can I say? I’m a physical kind of guy.
But maybe I should’ve used my words more to tell you how much I care.
How I love the sound of your laugh, and the way your eyes twinkle when you think I’m funny, and how your mouth curves when you’re trying not to smile but you can’t help it.
I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ear.
I love when you give me hell because you think I need to be knocked down.
I love lying in your bed, even when you make me listen to Harry Styles.
A giggle bursts free from me at that.
Vanessa, I love YOU. Every little thing that makes up who you are. I hope you know that.
I should’ve told you sooner.
I don’t know what happened to us, but if you ever give me another chance, I’ll tell you every second of every day what you mean to me.
Teddy
I don’t realize I’m crying until a tear drops onto the paper. “Shit,” I curse, not wanting to smear his writing. Setting the letter on the bed I grab a tissue and dry my face. Reading his words hurts, that ache of missing him settling deeper into my chest where it’s never entirely gone away in these long as hell weeks.
Once I have my tears under control, I pick up another letter.
This one is short and simple. Three words.
I miss you.
I grab another at random.
I didn’t expect to fall for you, but I did.
Little by little. With every new detail I learned about you, I fell harder.
I hope you know that everything with you was real. I wasn’t playing you if that’s what you think.
I don’t know what I did to change what we had. I wish I understood.
—Teddy
I’m greedy now, tearing right into another.
I never knew my chest could hurt like this. There’s an ache that’s lived there ever since I watched the car drive away with you in it. You ignore my texts. Don’t answer my calls.
You’re all I can think about—but do you think of me at all?
Maybe I was never as special to you, as you are to me.
—Teddy
My heart breaks more than it already has, thinking about Teddy believing he’s not special to me when he’s become my everything.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.
So many things don’t add up.
We were fine—better than fine.
When I held you in the garden, your body grinding against mine, I saw it in your eyes. The words I said later.
I love you.
You love me—I know you do.
That leaves me with why?
Why would you end it?
Are you scared? Of me? Of feeling too much? Of falling too far?
I’m begging you.
Fall with me.
I’ll catch you. Promise.
—Teddy
My fingers shake as I lower the letter. “Oh, Teddy,” I sigh aloud. Sniffling, I wipe away the tears on my cheeks. I hate that I hurt him, broke him in such a way. Broke myself too.
I know I was backed into a corner. I did what I had to do. But that doesn’t make me feel better.
I’m not giving up on you, Vanessa.
It would be easy to tuck tail and admit defeat. To turn back to parties, drinking, women. But that’s not who I am anymore and who I’ve become is yours.
I’ll give you space, for now, but I’m not going down without a fight.
—Teddy
I hurry through the rest of the letters, then reread them.
If I had any doubts about how Teddy really feels about me, there’s none left.
His words bleed with truth.
But none of it matters.
I signed a contract. It’s a done deal. I’m out of Teddy’s life for good.
43
Teddy