“But you don’t want me?” he asks quietly.
“What I want doesn’t matter.” I force myself to bury the pain as a fresh wave of tears streaks down my cheeks. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Rosebud.” He reaches his hands up to frame my face and I could nearly crumble from the warmth of his touch against my skin. His thumbs swipe the tears on my cheeks, one thumb lingering on the freckles under my eye as he continues to watch me. “You’re the queen of games, Rosie. You play for sex, play for the sake of pissing off people. You play just for the joy of it too. Why won’t you play for power?Yourpower? Don’t let them take it from you. Why are you letting some rich fuckhead dictate your entire future,yourlife?”
“That rich fuckhead is my father.”
“He could be the king of fucking England for all I care. Take it back, Rosie. Be exactly who I know you to be and take control of your own damn life.” His hands almost shake with the intensity of his words, my hands reach up and latch on to his wrists that frame my face and I wish we could just stay here, him touching me, holding me, and looking down at me. Even if it’s with big blue pools of pain, I just need him here.
“I don’t know how to do that,” I whisper the admission. “Not with this.”
“And I just don’t believe you. The Rosie I know? She wouldn’t stand by and let someone else control her like this. The Rosie I fell in love with?” He looks between my eyes before his scrunch closed as he heaves a shuddering breath. And it’s complete and utter defeat within them when he finds my gaze again. My stomach sinks. “She’d never settle for anything less than extraordinary. She’d never hand over her power like this, or at the very least, she’d put up a hell of a fight.” His hands drop from my face and I feel the loss like a punch in the gut. Icy panic shoots through me as he takes small steps away from me. I urge forward to close the distance.
“I am, I have been fighting, Caleb.” I sob through the words. “That’s what you don’t understand. My job? He pulled it out from under me. My apartment? He’s re-listing it. If I don’t do this, he’ll cut me off. I have no job; I’ll have no money and nowhere to live. I’ll be alone, I’ll have nothing! That’s how he’s constructed my whole life, to control me. He’s made it impossible for me to exist in this world without him and I don’t have a choice!” I take a weak breath in as I spit the words, getting louder and more frustrated.Understand,I silently plead.Understand, and don’t walk away from me. “If I defy him, I’ll have nothing left.”
His wet eyes look red with the pain I’ve caused him, and I feel like I’m seconds from crumbling to the ground. “It’s not true, Rosie. Because you had me.”
I sob, because the word rocks me to my very core as he puts even more distance between us. “Had?”
“Do something for me,” he says quietly, but he’s not reaching for me. So I rush to close the distance, wishing he’d stop retreating.
“Anything.”
“Don’t settle. Don’t stop fighting. You deserve so much better than this, Rosie. You deserve more.” The sound of his resignation is like an arrow to my heart. I feel like I’m bleeding, like the thing that keeps me standing is about to be yanked out of me.
“And what of you? What are you going to do?” My hands fiddle as he paces a little in place, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. And though he’s quick to hide it, I don’t miss the single tear that streaks down his cheek. I don’t miss it because I feel it, like a knife cutting through the center of my chest.
“I’m…I, uh…I’m just going to take a walk.” He turns and takes a few steps away. “I’ll see you around.” His words are barely audible. And then he’s gone.
I don’t know how long I stand there. I know it’s long after Caleb walked away, without looking back. I know that I watched him turn a corner, watched without blinking as his shoulders shook and his hands twitched in and out of fists.
I continue to watch the blank space filled with nothing and nobody until there is the sound of feet rushing behind me. I continue to stare ahead as the sweet sound of Casey’s voice and the bright blonde hair of Addison slowly awaken my senses.
“Are you okay, Rosie?” Casey’s gentle voice hits my ears, and the sound has never made me feel hollower. She wraps her arms around me as Addy grips my shoulders, forcing my eyes to hers. They seem to bleed with tears as she pulls me into her arms with an intense scowl on her face.
I don’t really know what happened. I was dancing with my friends, coming to terms with the fact that I might have fallen in love with my nonsecretive, exclusive fuck buddy. And now? I’m trying to fill the hole that’s left in my chest after watching him walk away. After I finally succeeded in pushing him away. The man I feel like I found the other side of my soul in…he’s gone.
CHAPTER 38
there is no one else
Caleb
I’m torturing myself and I can’t stop. “In These Arms”by Bon Jovi blares through my AirPods and my feet pound the pavement as I attempt to run from my problems. I tried to press Play on my Pump playlist…I somehow found a playlist of love songs instead and decided I wasn’t hurt enough and needed to batter and bruise my poor heart further.
And perhaps if I could do it all again, I wouldn’t hold back. I would tell Rosie that I love her, that she would be happy with me, that I’d never leave her. That I’d love her forever. And I could.
But I’ve been second place before. I’ve known, for quite some time that I wasn’t enough to be the thing that changes someone’s mind, to not be the decider or the priority. And the worst part is, that the little voice in my head that reminds me of this? Was practically screaming at me as I let myself fall. I chose to ignore it, that was on me.
The air starts to feel like it’s not making it all the way into my lungs as the images of her big, sad brown eyes leaking tears thatwouldn’t stop flash through my mind. Her bright, electric smile turned down into a frown filled with pain I didn’t know how to take away. My steps slow until I’m leaned over, hands on my knees and sucking in a breath. Noah and Lucas stop too. They’ve been good sports and have let me drag them along my runs, which are a hell of a lot more frequent this week. I take out my headphones as I see Lucas’s lips moving like he’s talking to me.
“We should keep going,” I interrupt, and Lucas stands at his full height, a hand pressed to my chest to stop me. My bare chest. The three of us look like some sweaty sports commercial, standing in the middle of the park in nothing but sport shorts. Lucas has a shirt tucked in the back of his shorts, Noah with his cap on backward.
“Just take a beat. You can’t keep running from your problems,” Lucas pants.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I slap away his hand, feeling that same rage that’s had a firm grip on me this week rear its sad ugly head.
Noah steps up, pushing us apart, and levels me with a look I know means I’m losing my head and I need to stop lashing out. I know I’m shooting shit at everyone. I just can’t seem to stop.
