“I need you to leave and not come back.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving or giving up on us. There is still more to talk about, Emilia.”
My feet stop walking me around the room, my body turning to face him.
“There isn’t. You need to go,” I try again, heartbreak managing to gnaw its way into my voice.
He stands across the room from me, his face stony but cracks appearing at the edges.
“Just get the fuck out, Reeve!” I scream, no longer able to keep it together.
“I need you to listen to what I have to say, Em.”
“There is nothing you could say to change my mind. Get the hell out or I’m calling Ali.”
He rears back, clearly hearing the truth in my words.
“I never wanted it to be like this, Em. I know you don’t believe me, but it always meant more to me. You always meant more to me.” His voice is merely a whisper as he walks to the couch and collects his keys. He slows as he reaches the door, as if he somehow can’t bring himself to go. Then he turns to me, his gaze intimately connecting with my own for what feels like the last time. I close my lids, unable to see him walk away.
“I’m sorry for hurting you, Emilia. Believe me when I tell you it was never my intent.”
“I know,” I whisper back. “I know it wasn’t. But our sad reality is that you did hurt me and now, now I need to move on; otherwise, I’m going to continue to get hurt, but this time, I will have no one to blame but myself.”
His silence is my only reply.
The metal door handle squeals in protest as he turns it, my ears the only way to know he’s leaving. After the thump of the door vibrates through the floor, I finally open my eyes.
He’s gone, and I sink to the floor alone, my emotions expressed with four simple words: he’s broken my heart. But not so simple at all, is it?
I text Stana and Lottie, asking if they can come over. The more time I spend without Reeve, the more the reality of the situation hits me. The man I love couldn’t love me back, and worse than that, he’s left the country. My only comfort is that my cat, who sometimes hates me, has decided to sit beside me.
Less than an hour later Stana and Lottie are standing in my living room, watching my impending meltdown.
“He’s gone,” I whisper, so quietly that I swear the sound of my soul breaking is a thousand times louder.
“Who is?” Lottie asks, clearly still uncertain of my heartbreak.
“Reeve.” I open my mouth, my lungs desperate to suck in any semblance of air, anything to ease the ache in my chest. “Oh my God,” I say again, eyes wide at the realization he’s left me. “He’s gone,” I sob.
In an instant the girls are by my side, trying to console me despite my secrets and lies. Attempting to tell me it will all be okay, despite not knowing why it isn’t to begin with. Because that’s who they are—that is the type of friends I’m lucky enough to have.
Demon bolts as soon as they get close to me, opting for his favorite place, Cora’s room.
“Emilia,” Stana says, her emerald eyes glassy. “Let’s move to the couch. Come on, my love. Let’s get off the floor.” Her delicate arms lift me from the ground I didn’t realize I was lying upon. How long have I been down here?
“He left me,” I repeat, as if perhaps saying it one more time will make it untrue. But the sad reality about pain in life is that no matter how many times you fall to the floor shouting your denials, life laughs in your face until you get back up and accept what happened. Or in my case, sit on your living room floor until your best friends pull you up and attempt to shake some sense into your crushed heart.
“I loved him. I loved him, and he left me.” It’s a statement of acknowledgment, acceptance that the people we think are inherently good aren’t. That they have flaws, flaws that can hurt us more than they heal.
“Em, my love, you need to tell us what’s happened so we can help.” Stana’s hand rubs up and down my arm, my chest feeling as if it’s about to cave in on itself.
I nod, my choppy breath beginning to slow down. “I fucked up,” I admit. “I fucked up by keeping this all a secret, but in order for me to tell you it all, and there is a lot to tell, I need you both to be silent and just listen. Listen without any spoken judgment or criticism.”
They both affirm in unison.
“Well, you see, it all started six months ago when Stana was in America…”
I take them back to that July night, guide them through all the moments that led up to our eventual relationship. I fill them in on his mother’s secrets, his father, us keeping secrets, Evie’s birthday, all up to this moment. Him gone.
“That’s a lot for one girl to be dealing with alone, Em,” Stana says as her hand brushes mine with love.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention everything going on between us sooner. I was just afraid of what would happen if I told everyone, afraid I might scare Reeve off, but he seems to be gone anyway.”
“I’m sorry but fuck him,” Lottie adds in, clearly furious on my behalf. “How could he bloody well just up and leave?” I think it’s a rhetorical question, but I shrug anyway.
“Now don’t jump down my throat, because you know I’m team Em all the way, but maybe he had his reasons,” Stana says. “It’s unlike Reeve to just leave the country on a whim with his estranged father. I mean, this is Reeve we’re talking about. He’s controlled and the least spontaneous man I’ve ever met!” She throws her hands in the air, clearly exasperated.
“Stana,” Lottie says, her voice deep with warning.
“It’s fine, Lo. Stana is right. None of this makes any remote sense, but I think I’ve come to understand with Reeve Sawyer, nothing about him makes sense. I just don’t want to waste any more time trying to decode him. He clearly doesn’t care enough to sit me down and have a rational conversation, plus he had no issue leading me on for months. I want to wash my hands of him.”
“Are you sure, Em? This is all still so fresh. Plus, what about Ali? Do you want to continue to keep him in the dark?”
My gut plummets at the thought of the impending situation with my brother. My actions only continuing to further establish my naivete in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Stana adds in, grimacing.
“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to face her.
“Well, let’s just say that I don’t think Ali will be as surprised as you think.” She pauses, but our prodding eyes make her keep talking.
“He’s not an idiot, Em. Ali knows that you had feelings for Reeve. He just chose not to get involved, wanted you two to figure it out if anything were to ever happen. I mean, the fact that it did happen and it was kept a secret will shock the hell out of him—Lord knows it did me—but I don’t think he will be as surprised as you assume.”
I pause for a few moments, hoping I can pick my jaw off the floor. Ali knew I had feelings for Reeve and never said anything. What would Reeve think of all of this? No, fuck him, he’s left, and I hate him. Yep, maybe if I say it enough it will be true.
“I guess I shouldn’t even be surprised. It is Ali. He’s always been a lot more perceptive than I gave him credit for.”