The poster spends seven lengthy paragraphs pointing out how neither of us seem to be speaking to each other, even as we sit at the same table. I sit up, curling in on myself, as I read each bit of ‘evidence’ proving the nearing end of the relationship. And with each word, my throat tightens more. The poster makes valid points.
It’s the last few sentences that stab me through the heart:
this relationship? whatever it actually is? totally not gonna last. and he’s all the better for it - seriously, who else thinks this chick is using him, especially since her kiddo needs a daddy, and why not someone rich and famous???
I exit out of the browser, lock my phone, and toss it onto the nightstand. I can’t breathe through the tears. Was it really that obvious that I’m not nearly as happy as I was only a couple short months ago? And do people honestly think I’m using Holden so Ashton has a father figure? I would never—I would rather shoot myself in the foot than do something so heinous—it breaks my heart that they could operate under that assumption. No matter what anyone thinks, I love Holden for who he is as a person, not for anything else.
Rolling over, I stare at Holden through the dark, barely touched by the gentle glow of the nightlight across the room. My entire being aches, and I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing. I slide farther down into the blankets, curling up against him, and close my eyes as the tears keep coming.
I’m fine.
Nothing is wrong. I’d tell you if something was.
I’mfine.
Over the last few weeks, I have said this so many times that I’ve lost count. It hasn’t helped that every time I’ve looked at Holden’s social media, there are more and more comments questioning the photos of our anniversary. His fans beg for some explanation or confirmation that he’ll dump me. I know, IknowI shouldn’t be doing this to myself—checking his profiles regularly—but I can’t stop.
If he’s going to slip up, if he’s going to hint about the comments being true, if I’m going to find out about our breakup through a damned social media post… I have to know.
I have avoided replying to anything Luci or Tristan send in texts regarding Holden. I’m well-aware the refusal is causing them to worry about me, but the thought of telling them the truth ices my veins. I can’t admit it. I can’t verbalize the fears, the reality. So I lie.
It isn’t until the beginning of August, a month and a half after the disastrous date, that I feel everything crumbling further around me.
Checking the time on my phone for the fifth time in the last hour, I blow out a sharp breath. There are still no new notifications, no texts apologizing. NoI’m on my ways. I stuff the device into my back pocket and blink rapidly to clear away the tears that are forming. I’m not surprised, and that surprises me. I hadn’t realized I’d become so accustomed to the radio silence.
I step out of the cool building, sweat beading along my hairline almost immediately. Ashton whines at the heat, stomps his feet as he follows me. The air is heavy with the impending storm; I gently push the toddler back into the shade provided by the awning, but there is no escape from the temperature. The sight of his reddening cheeks is enough to break my heart. I wish, not for the first time, my car hadn’t broken down. Again.
“Do you need a ride?”
I glance over my shoulder at the man approaching. Lily’s father smiles, a thing that does nothing to reassure me. Were he anyone other than who he is, I would have nearly collapsed to my knees in gratitude. As it is, though, I step between the man and Ashton.
“No, thanks,” I reply, thankful my voice is steadier than I feel. “We’re fine. My boyfriend’s just running a bit late.”
“Are you sure? We don’t mind.”
Of course you don’t. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
The man is so close, too close, and I force myself to draw in a calming breath. It doesn’t work. My pulse roars in my ears, and I swallow against the tightness in my throat. His mouth opens, but another voice comes from behind him, cutting him off with efficiency.
“There you are.”
Josh nears on quick footsteps, and his stormy eyes scan the scene in front of him. I hope like Hell that he registers my discomfort. His gaze cuts to my face, then he reaches for Ashton. The child, accustomed to Josh’s presence, goes easily enough. I lean heavily into Josh’s side when his arm loops around my shoulders.
“Lemme guess,” he says lightly. “You forgot where we parked this morning?”
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to fall to the ground in relief. I nod with a watery giggle as Josh presses a kiss to my damp hair. He whispers aKeep goingagainst my skin, and I resist the urge to run away. His grip tightens, a comforting touch, and I allow him to steer me toward the opposite end of the parking lot.
Lily’s father’s truck pulls out onto the street a moment later. I blow out a breath and lower myself to sit on the edge of the sidewalk while Josh distracts Ashton as he unlocks the door to his car. Once I have myself under control again, I wipe the sweat from my face with the hem of my blouse.
“Thanks. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”
Josh frowns and stares down at me. “No problem. You looked uncomfortable. But… I thought you’d already gone.”
“My ride hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Dealla, this might be cruel, it might be pouring salt into the wound, but it’s been almost an hour. I don’t think your ride is coming.”
“Neither do I,” I whisper to my knees after a few seconds. His words echo in my brain. My chest aches with the confession.
