West kept me company the first night, and I threw a party last night that bled into Saturday morning. When Jimmy showed up at my door a few hours ago, I expected he was here to rip me a new one, but he said nothing about the state of the place or the stragglers snoring and leaking drool on the floor.
His only concern was me.
I couldn’t tell him. I can’t force those words from my mouth.
West wanted to know what’s wrong, and for a few seconds, I was tempted to tell him, but he’s hurting enough, and I won’t add to his pain. I won’t use him to hurt her—even if she deserves it. Kendall is gone from my life, taking our secret with her.
“Thanks for your help,” I tell Hazel a few hours later when my place has been put right. I’m standing outside my studio, staring at the only canvas left intact, wondering why I am incapable of destroying it. It’s hidden behind a layer of bubble wrap and brown paper packaging because I can’t bear to look at it.
Can’t get rid of it.
Can’t tolerate looking at it either.
Painting Kendall that night was the culmination of my every fantasy come to life, and I know it’s my best work to date. I couldn’t throw it away, so now I’m putting it into storage, and maybe someday I’ll be able to uncover it and remember that night, and her, without this constant stabbing pain in my heart.
“No problem, Van. Your friend said someone will be here within the hour to remove the damaged stuff.”
Jimmy arranged for a buddy of his to collect the trashed furniture, and I’ll be sleeping on the couch from now on. No point in buying a new mattress when I’ll be leaving in five weeks, and I have already called Mom to tell her I’ll be joining her next week for Easter after all. I had planned on sticking around for the holidays and spending the summer here, to maximize time with Kendall, but now I can’t get out of Colorado Springs fast enough.
Hazel pins me with sad eyes and squeezes my hand. “I hope whatever is wrong gets resolved soon.”
I don’t think there’s any cure for a decimated heart, but I appreciate the sentiment and her willingness to help. She’s my buddy’s girl, but we’re not close, so her showing up with West today meant a lot. I nod and force a smile before West leaves to walk her to her car.
When he returns a few minutes later, I’m parked on the couch with my feet on the coffee table and a beer in my hand. West sinks onto the couch beside me, kicking off his sneakers and swinging his legs up. He raises his beer bottle to his lips, eyeing me with concern. At least my falling apart has distracted him from his own troubles. “You ready to talk about it yet?”
“Nope.” I guzzle beer and stare out the window at the dark night sky.
“I know this has something to do with your dad.”
“Drop it, West,” I say through gritted teeth. I wish I could tell him. I want to vent to my buddy, but I can’t. It’s bad enough I’m letting him keep me company after what I’ve done and when he’s in the dark. I’m a shitty friend but too selfish to force him to leave.
Strained silence bleeds into the air, and I wish I hadn’t trashed my TV. Watching some mindless show or playing Call of Duty sounds about perfect right now.
“My parents finalized their divorce,” he says after a few awkward beats. “Mom is giving him the house and moving to Oregon. She got a job with an old high-school friend of hers.”
Wow. She must have been planning that all along, and she mentioned nothing to me. She really played me for a fool. Rage burns at the back of my throat, and I drain the rest of my beer. I’m tempted to throw the bottle at the wall, but we only just cleaned up the mess. I know I should say something, but I don’t trust myself to speak.
“Ridge is upset. He doesn’t want to leave the asshole or his friends or his Little League team, but I get the sense Dad doesn’t want to be shackled with a young kid because he only asked Stella if she wanted to stay with him.”
Curtis is a fucking prick, and I still hate his guts. Of course, he doesn’t want Ridge. It would mess up his plans. He’s enjoying the single life, and a ten-year-old would curtail his freedom and hold him back.
“Stella is conflicted,” West continues, single-handedly carrying the conversation. “She doesn’t want to stay with Dad, but she’s not sure she wants to complete her senior year in a new school.”
“Stella will go with your mom,” I say, not looking at him. “She won’t want to be separated from Ridge either.”
Air huffs from his mouth. “I think you’re right.”
“What about you?” I turn to face him. “What are your plans? You won’t be leaving for Oklahoma until the end of June.” The football team starts training early before classes commence.
“I’ll go with Mom after graduation, to help her get settled, but I’m coming back then. I want to spend as much time with Hazel before I have to leave for college.” Hazel is a year below us, and I wonder if their relationship will survive the separation. “There’s no fucking way I’m staying with Dad and his slut though.” He scrubs a hand over his prickly jawline. “I was going to ask if I could crash here, but you’re leaving straight after graduation now, so that’s out of the question.”
“I’m sure Jimmy would let you stay here for a few weeks. I’ll ask him.”
“That would be cool. Thanks, man.”
I nod. It’s the least I can do for him after how I’ve been sneaking around with his mom behind his back for months.
Pain lances across my chest as Kendall’s image resurrects in my mind, and I’m striding across the room to the refrigerator before I’ve even processed the motion. I return with two more beers, handing one to my buddy even though he hasn’t finished his first beer yet. I pop the lid and glug a healthy mouthful. West eyes me with concern. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but what about last night?” His brows kick up. “Do you want—”
“Nope.” I shake my head as acid churns in my gut. I do not want to think about that.
My fists pound into the bag, and sweat drips down my brow, as I go at it full throttle the next evening at the gym downstairs. Tomorrow is our last day of school before the holidays, and I’m looking forward to getting out of here. Mom and Dana are in Canada for Easter, staying with friends of Dana’s. After what Jimmy told me yesterday, I’m glad they left Europe. I don’t know how my father discovered where she was staying, but I’m not too concerned. Mom phoned this morning, confirming Dad signed the divorce papers, and I eased a sigh of relief until I heard he insisted the restraining orders were quashed and she dropped the civil suit as part of the deal. Mom assures me it’s only because of the damage it will do to his reputation. He has agreed to give her back her inheritance plus an extra million if she lets it go. He has also promised to stay away from me and not interfere with my plans to attend Yale Art.
He’d better hope he stays the hell away from me because I will fucking kill him if he ever darkens my door again. I’ve been tempted to confront him. To unleash all this rage on his body, but he’d only like that. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s achieved what he set out to do—he has stolen the only woman who matters and broken me in the process.