Cole scoffed. “Yeah, well, I’m a selfish prick. I’ll die before I let her go, and even then, I’ll haunt her fucking dreams.”
He cast a final look at Anson before he also left the room.
I cleared my throat as we stood in silence together.
“What? Are you going to tell me I caused all this, and I’m done seeing her?” Anson asked.
I shook my head at him. “I’m tired of the same fight.”
“Me too.”
“Then what are we going to do about it?” I stared him down, watching as he visibly swallowed.
“I guess one of us needs to let her go.”
“It won’t be me,” I said. “It won’t ever be me.”
Anson stared at that empty doorway again. “Was life like this with her before I came along?”
“No.”
“Was she happy?”
“Yes. Happier than she is now.”
“Then it’s me.” He looked down at his feet and nodded. “I’ll let her go then. So she can be happy again. I’m only causing problems. Tell her…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
He left the room without another word, the front door closing, sounding out in his wake.
And me.
I stood rooted to my spot in the kitchen, torn on which direction to run to.
My girl or the guy who actually made her smile again.
TWENTY-THREE
ROSALIE
Ispent three days in complete silence. I didn’t leave my room. I didn’t speak to the guys despite their efforts. I didn’t bother with classes. And Anson didn’t speak to me. Not knowing what had gone down in the kitchen made my fear grow with each unanswered text I sent him.
The guys left food outside my door for me, but I barely touched it. Instead, I dove into my music and wrote my heart out between fits of anger and tears.
On the third night, my door cracked open, my lock be damned, and soft footsteps sounded out as they approached my bed.
“Rosebud?” Cole’s voice trembled.
I opened my eyes to stare up at him with no shirt on and his pajama bottoms hanging low. He sounded so broken. So scared.
It made my heart hurt. Even though I was angry at him, I couldn’t help but want to haul him into my arms and hold him tightly while whispering to him that everything would be OK.
Maybe it was a lie because it didn’t feel OK.
“Can I lie with you?” Cole asked, his voice holding a note of worry in it.
I slid over for him, and he crawled into bed. He wrapped his arms around me before he buried his face in my neck and sobbed softly, his body shaking.
That was it. My heart shattered.
