A muscle in his cheek twitched, betraying him, but he
didn’t respond. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, like we’d been playing a
game the whole time and he was the only one who’d known the rules.
“How long have you known?”
His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure
if he’d answer. “I looked into you the weekend you turned down my job,” he said
eventually.
“Interesting.” I shook my head angrily. “You want to
know the reason I have a restraining order on Michael? Because he was a
stalker, Dallon. That’s the official story, anyway. Partner rape is harder to
prove.”
Dallon’s face contorted. He staggered backward, swaying
slightly on the spot as if unsure what to do next. His eyes looking me up and
down as his jaw clenched and unclenched. “Christ, Amy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I closed my eyes to shut him out. “I’m moving out. I’ll
stay with Sam until I find a place. I have money now.”
“You don’t mean that.” His voice was a pained whisper.
“I can’t give you what you need.”
“Yes, you can.” He reached out and caressed my cheek, and
I shivered at his touch. The electricity between us was palpable even now.
“You already have. What’s more, you wanted it too. Maybe
we’re both messed up, but we belong together.”
I swallowed hard. It had only been a week, but I was in
love with him—I couldn’t deny it any longer. And now I knew I had to end it.
Again I was teetering on the edge of the precipice, but this time if I gave in,
it would be the end of me.
“Admit it. Admit that like me, you were the happiest
you’ve ever been this weekend. Please.”
I felt my resolve breaking, the desire to admit that
yes, the weekend had been amazing and it had made me realize just how in love
with him—and how vulnerable—I really was.
I would have to hit him where it hurt.
“I don’t need another stalker boyfriend.”
His hand stilled and then dropped away.
“Is that how you see me?” I could hear the anguish in
his voice. He was quiet for a moment before adding more quietly, “Of course you
do. I’ve never tried to hide my true self from you.”
And I was rejecting him for it. The knowledge pierced my
heart. Behind my lids, my eyes filled with tears, but whether they were due to
sadness or anger, I wasn’t sure, as suddenly the memories of everything I’d
done and the subsequent way he’d treated me came rushing forth.
“I gave myself to you, and you lost respect for me. I
don’t mean anything to you except a warm body to fuck.”
His sharp intake of breath made me shut my eyes tighter.
My breathing was rapid, terrified by how he’d react.
“That’s what you really think?”
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “And I don’t
want to end up like Ruri, a girl you control and use until you’re done with
her.”
He was deadly silent now, and I knew I’d wounded him.
I’d hit my mark. I hadn’t meant to be so cruel and I regretted my words
instantly—but there was no taking them back. Moments passed before he spoke
again. I didn’t dare open my eyes for fear of giving in; seeing him in pain
would kill me.
“So that’s it then.” His tone was bitter.
I bit my lip and nodded. The electric feeling left, as
if a light switch had been turned off. A few seconds later I heard his
footsteps going down the stairwell, and I opened my eyes to find I was alone.
I’d left Dallon King, and he’d left me.
I slid down the wall and cried.
***
Sam found me, claiming that my sobs had carried down the
hall. I was seconds away from curling up in the fetal position on the cool
cement when the door to the stairwell opened, and she rushed in.
The pain was indescribable. Like I’d lost part of
myself. Like I’d bared my heart and soul, only to lose them both.
Back in her apartment, Luke wrapped me in a blanket and
Sam made a pot of herbal tea to calm my nerves. I sat staring forward, not
focusing on anything in particular, while the realization of what I’d done sunk
in.
Sam’s face appeared as a blur in front of me as she
passed me a steaming mug of tea. “It will get better,” she promised.
This is grief
, I thought.
This is what it feels like to actually love someone and lose them.
I had my freedom now, and I’d never felt more alone. As
I moved through my job the next day, I felt empty, like I’d been emptied out. I
smiled and managed to carry on conversations, but
he
was always at the
back of my mind.
I wondered what he was doing. I wondered
how
he
was doing. I wondered if thoughts of us were tormenting him the way they were
tormenting me.
I’d deleted his voicemails without listening to them,
but now I regretted it, desperate to hear his voice again. I checked my phone
every five minutes. Whereas before I could go days without using my phone, now
I was tethered to it, addicted.
Removed from the intensity of our fight, I was no longer
focused on Dallon’s control issues and instead remembered all the wonderful
things he’d done for me, from helping me apply for jobs to making sure I was
taking care of myself and safe. We’d both hurt each other, both said terrible
things we could never take back, but I regretted the Ruri comment the
most—especially after what he’d told me about ending up in hospital. I was
dying to tell him but was too afraid he’d turn me away. I would deserve it,
after all.
Then as the days went by, it became clearer and clearer
that Dallon was no longer interested in me, and I began to fear the worst: that
I really
had
just been another Ruri, a girl to enjoy for a time before
moving on.
The idea made me want to throw up.
“We need to get your things,” Sam said one night over
dinner.
I winced at the reminder. Luckily I had some good news.
“Speaking of that, I think I found a place to live. I was chatting with Tristan
on Facebook and he said they need a roommate.”
Tristan was a buddy from University. We’d met him in
residence during our first year, and he currently lived with Lucy, a
free-spirited artist. Living with them would be a blast, and they lived on the
Upper West Side. Tristan’s family was fairly wealthy.
“That’s awesome,” Luke said, knocking his beer against
mine. “That will be awesome.”
“I’m excited… It’ll be like returning to Uni.” I was
looking forward to just having fun again—no worrying about relationships or
power dynamics.
“I’m a little jealous that you’ll all be partying
together like old times,” Sam sighed, and then rushed to add, “But living with
Luke is the best.”
Luke snorted and pulled out his cellphone, turning his
attention to me. “I’ll call Dallon,” he offered. “We can pick your things up
tonight. Get it over with.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
I
can’t
see him
.
“You don’t have that much stuff; you can wait in the
car.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, my eyes tearing up with
gratitude. Lately I cried about pretty much everything.
“Of course. That’s what friends are for.” Sam put her
hand over mine as Luke retreated into their bedroom to call Dallon. He emerged
a minute later.
“He said we could pick it up tonight. He’ll get
everything ready now.”
Pain clenched my stomach. He was going to pack my bags.
And right this moment. What a change from the man who’d demanded I move in with
him, who had called my landlord and negotiated me out of my lease.
“I guess I should give him this back too,” I said,
placing my phone on the table. At least I would no longer have the temptation
to check it for any indication he might still care for me.
“Is there anything on here you don’t want him to see?”
Sam asked, ever the lawyer.
I shook my head.
“Okay.” She put it in her bag. “Let’s do this.”
Sam and Luke made small talk as we drove, trying to keep
my mind off things. Not the first time in my life, I felt thankful that I’d met
both Sam and Luke, my best friends that would protect me no matter what.
When we were a block from the building, Luke called
Dallon and my ears strained, desperate to hear their conversation. I wanted to
hear his voice. I needed to hear that this situation was tearing him up inside.
Luke entered the code Dallon had given him, and we drove
into the bowels of his building, parked in a visitor stall.
“Here,” I said, handing Luke my access hard. “You’ll
need this use the elevator from down here. Swipe it and then press the button
for his floor.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked, and I
winced at the pity I saw in his eyes.
“Positive.”
Sam leaned over the seat and hugged me before getting
out. “Remember
you
broke up with
him
.”
I smiled weakly in response, knowing she was trying to
take away some of the pain, but that detail felt so trivial. Childish. My heart
was still bleeding.
As soon as the door slammed closed, I put my feet up
between the two front seats and rested my forehead on my knees, blocking out
all light. I didn’t cry—maybe I was finally all out of tears. I just wanted
this whole ordeal to be over.
Had he expected me to go up with them? Would he be
disappointed not to see me, or relieved? Most likely he hated me now and had
already moved on.
The back of the SUV opened, breaking into my thoughts,
and I spun around in my seat as Sam placed my second suitcase and my portfolio
into the trunk.
“Stay inside,” she said in warning.
I immediately glanced toward the elevator and saw Luke
and Dallon standing by the storage units. My breath caught; Dallon looked more
gorgeous than I’d remembered, and I was still undeniably, infuriatingly
attracted to him. His hair was wet like he’d recently had a shower and he was
wearing his tight, grey jeans, black V-neck shirt and flip-flops. I watched as
he said something to Luke, hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.
He either wasn’t aware I was in the car or didn’t care because he didn’t look
over, and his posture seemed cool and detached, like he couldn’t care less what
was happening.
Worse, Luke was holding my easel. I closed my eyes
against the memory of the studio Dallon had put together for me only a week
ago.
Sam entered the vehicle on the side facing away from
them, slid onto the seat beside me. “He tried to refuse your phone. I had to
leave it in the hallway by the elevator. He’ll find it when he goes back up.”
“Thanks,” I said in a small voice.
“He said he put your bed in storage down here.”
I nodded. “I forgot all about it.”
We were both watching Dallon and Luke’s interaction. As
if sensing our eyes on him, Dallon glanced over, and his brow furrowed as if he
could see me through the tinted windows. I shrunk lower in my seat.
Luke said something and held his hand up to Dallon
before making his way over, carrying the easel in one hand and a painting in
the other. Dallon’s eyes widened. He hesitated and then shook his head.
Grabbing the other painting leaning against the wall, he followed determinedly.
Fear gripped me. He was going to come right up to the
SUV.
Sam quickly jumped out, intercepting Dallon just before
he got there. I watched his eyes narrow as he listened to what she was saying,
and then his head snapped up as realization dawned.
He knew I didn’t want to see him.
I couldn’t breathe. He was looking right at me. Though I
knew he couldn’t see in, I felt his pain and judgment all the same, and my
heart was in my throat.
Then his face shuttered and he handed Sam the painting, turned
away.
***
“What did you decide to do about the bed?” Sam asked
Luke as we pulled out of the parking area.
Luke was silent, his hands clenching the wheel. Sam kept
glancing over at him as if trying to telepathically find out what was wrong.
“I made a mistake,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry,
Amy.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to feel
guilty for anything, especially after everything they’d done for me.
No one said anything, and Luke sighed, glancing at Sam.
“After you left us, he seemed so… distraught. He wasn’t acting like the guy
upstairs.” Luke looked in the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes. “I told him to
stay there and I guess he realized you were in the car.”
“It’s okay, I said again, closing my eyes against the
memory. I’d hurt him again.
“I wasn’t thinking. Right before that he said he wanted to
do something for you. We couldn’t fit the bed in the car, so he said he’d pay
for movers.”
“You gave him her address,” Sam said softly.
“It just kind of came out.”
“Dallon has that effect on people,” I said quietly, and
then rushed to add, “Don’t worry, he’ll just send my bed and that’s it.”