He’d refused to tell me he loved me. For months. Now I knew why. Because he’d wanted to be with Lindsay. My head pounded, and I could scarcely breathe. It was as if I’d forgotten how. Everything I’d once counted on was gone.
I heard pounding on the thick, solid wood front door, and Mrs. Ombly scurried to attend to it. She informed me that it was Hugh, and I met him in the living room.
The room’s ceiling soared to dizzying heights, framed in thick bands of crown molding. The walls were covered in damask silk, delicate threads catching the sunshine that peeked through heavy, matching draperies. Seating areas, created with the intent to lessen its vastness, did the opposite because three large area rugs nestled atop the reclaimed wood floors, soaking up the space between the soft, tanned-leather couches and bright yellow accent pillows, each its own distinct cluster.
“Aya, you look bad,” Hugh said after he hugged me.
I wore the same clothes I had for days—black leggings and a too-large top that slid off my right shoulder, baring the camisole underneath—the outfit I’d thrown on…what was it? A day ago now? Two? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t thought to dress for the party when I went in search of Nash, needing his arms.
My hair shifted, emitting the faint, sharp scent of hospital disinfectant, reminding me of where I’d been and what I’d lost.
I remained impassive, nearly limp in his embrace. “What do you want, Hugh?”
“To be a shoulder for you to cry on. I know you’re hurting.”
I blinked up at him. “Because Lindsay hurt you, too?”
He grimaced. “About that. There are some things you should know—”
Tears brimmed, and my breath ached in my chest. I whimpered, reliving Nash’s harsh, angry words.
Rejected.
Oh, I’d heard them all. He’d promised never to hurt me.
He’d promised.
Lindsay’s vindictive laugh, her bright, vicious eyes spun through my head.
Whatever Hugh said, I didn’t hear, so lost in my own mind.
After a moment, he reached for my arm. “He wants to see you.”
I sighed, my hands clasped. “He knows where I am.”
Hugh’s expression turned befuddled. “Didn’t you hear me? He’s in the hospital.”
I blinked up at him. I’d missed that. In fact, I’d missed everything. “Take me?” I begged.
Hugh nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “There’s the Aya I expected.”
I gripped the side-door handle the whole way to the hospital—the last place I wanted to be. But I needed to see Nash, make sure he was okay. I couldn’t lose him, too.
My stomach flipped. Except I already had.
Something about this entire situation bothered me. I was missing something. Something important.
“Aya?”
I blinked. We were here. I stared up at the hospital building, a sheen of sweat coating my forehead. I didn’t want to go in there, didn’t know if I could handle hearing Nash was dead. When the doctor had told me about my mother, I’d lost it.
Now, once again, I was supposed to walk in there and have my world fall apart? I shook my head wildly.
“No. I can’t. I can’t.” I slammed my fists against my knees. “I can’t.”
“Hey. Hey. It’s okay,” Hugh said. “Look. Cam’s there. He would have called if something bad had happened.”
I quieted a little. Right. Yes. That made sense.
Hugh exited the car and walked around to my side, but I was already out the door, running toward the large glass sliders.
He followed, gasping. “This way.” He pointed as we entered.
I froze again. My mind and body numb. Not the ICU.
I shook my head, my knees turning to water. I went down hard, shaking.
Hugh had already walked through the doors. I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked. I couldn’t go back in there.
“Aya?”
Cam crouched down next to me. I turned in time to catch his grimace, but he stayed on his heels, forearms on his thighs. “You gonna come in and sit with us?”
“I…” I licked my lips. “My mum died.” My voice cracked. “Yesterday morning.”
Cam cursed. “And now you’re back.”
“Is he…” My throat closed.
Cam’s face contorted. “It’s bad.”
“How…”
“Drugs. I don’t know what.”
I whimpered.
“Will…will he…”
Cam sighed. “I don’t know yet. Come on. Let’s get you inside.” He rose with a grunt and offered me his hand.
I wanted to take it. I wanted to go in, but the last time I’d been in there, my mother died. And Nash might, too.
He’d cheated on me, with Lindsay. Humiliated me in front of everyone. Tears filled my eyes.
“I can’t.”
“All right.”
“I…I need to go.” I looked around wildly. “I came in with Hugh.”
Cam frowned. “I haven’t seen him, but I was trying to get the doctor to tell me something. I’ll have Chuck drive you.”
I must have nodded, and somehow I got to the car with Chuck. As he drove me home, my phone beeped. Dread pooled in my belly, and I whimpered. I wasn’t strong enough to look—to see the words. Nash was dead. Chuck slid into my driveway and side-eyed me.
“Would you…” I held out my phone.
His big paw touched mine, our fingers brushing. “Need the passcode.”
I rattled it off. He opened the app and bit out a low curse.
I snatched the phone from his hand and read the text: He’s mine now.
I gaped at the photos of Nash wrapped around Lindsay at the party. Below those were a bunch of links to various social media sites. All of them noted that Nash had dumped me because I was too nerdy, too ugly, or no fun.
Chuck laid his hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t right.”
“This is exactly what he chose,” I said. My tears dried as I stiffened my spine. “Be sure to tell Cam I’m no longer part of Nash’s world. Thanks for the ride.”
I exited the vehicle, ignoring Chuck’s glower. I headed inside to more notifications. Hundreds of them, all piling on about how I’d never deserved Nash, how I wasn’t good enough.
I turned off my phone and sank to the tile floor. Mrs. Ombly found me there sometime later and helped me up to my bed. I huddled there the rest of the night, not sleeping, unseeing, hating Nash Porter for making me love him.
28
Nash
Lindsay had doped me up on a breath-mint strip of N-BOMe, which was as potent as methamphetamine and LSD, combined. I was lucky, the doctors said, that she hadn’t killed me.
I’d learned that my aggression toward her was a common side effect of the chemicals flowing through me. After such a strong reaction, the doctors had expected me to seize, maybe even go into organ failure. But I hadn’t—in part because of the Narcan and sedatives they’d administered to counteract the drug. I’d been pumped with fluids and my vitals monitored all that night and into the next day.
Now, two days after Lindsay’s sick prank, I still felt weak and shaky, but mostly I was pissed that Aya wasn’t answering my calls.