I nod. Of course I fucking nod. “You can tell me anything. Always. I’m here.”
“Good. Because this is me having a mental breakdown.” He meets my gaze now, finally. His eyes lock on mine and don’t let go. “This is me talking. This is me not pulling back.And this also is me, scared to death, that if I say what happened, it doesn’t matter if I’m not the one pulling away, because you will.”
“Bullshit.” I frame his face with both hands, grounding him, grounding myself. “Nothing could tear me away from you.”
He closes his eyes, a shuddering sigh escaping him. His whole body trembles like he’s barely holding himself together.
“Please remember that,” he almost whispers, voice cracking so badly it sounds like it physically hurts.
“Remember it for what?” I ask, heart already stuttering.
“For when I tell you I cheated on you.”
My heart stops.
My hands fall away from his face.
I can’t breathe. The air leaves the room, my lungs, my chest. All of it hollowed out in an instant.
Ijusttold him nothing could tear me away from him. But now my feet are itching to step back, that betrayal burning through every cell of my body, lighting up that promise like paper on fire.
I’m not taking that step, though, even if I’m crumbling on the inside. Because even though the words hurt like a motherfucker, the despair in his eyes is worse.
“Mick?” I grunt out the name I despise with everything that I am, blood roaring in my ears. “Did you havesexwith him?”
He nods, then shakes his head frantically, before hunching over, hands on his face. “Oh,shit. Yes, it was Mick; no, I didn’t sleep with him. I would never… He kissed me, Ty. I didn’t want to. I swear I didn’t want to. We did the duet, like always, and I didn’t see it coming…I didn’t know what to do!”
I blink at him—at my fucking everything—gears grinding behind my eyes. “What do you mean, you did the duet? He kissed youonstage?” The words come out in a low, angry grumble. My throat is dry, my fists clenching at my sides.
He nods again, his beautiful face twisted in anguish, and finally drops on my bed like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. “I swear I didn’t want to. I tried to push him away. The audience… Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.”
I still haven’t taken that step back. But I’m not stepping forward either. And he notices. God, he notices. The way his face crumbles tells me he’s feeling every inch of that distance between us.
“What do you mean, youtriedto push him away?”My voice is tight. “How can youtryto push someone away? You either push or you don’t, Jace.”
He flinches. “He moved at the same time…” He lets out a heavy sigh and drags his hands down his face. “It’s all over the damn internet. It’s a miracle you haven’t seen it yet.”
I stare at him, at myboyfriend, mypartner, and hold up my hand for his phone.
“My battery died,” I say, my voice a broken whisper.
He hands his to me without a word, before dropping his gaze to the floor, like he can’t bear to see my face when I watch it. Maybe I’m lining myself up for a direct hit to the chest. Maybe this is going to ruin me. But I have to see it. Ihaveto see it.
I type in his code to unlock it, open the browser, and it’s already right fucking there, loaded and paused. He must’ve watched it on the trip over here. And if I know him just the tiniest bit, he must’ve watched it over and over again, probably as a punishment for himself.
I brace myself as I press play, but a tear glides down my fucking cheek the moment Mick presses his lips to what’s fuckingmine, anyway.
My heart was already cracked, but it splits apart right now. And I can see it, oh God, I can see what he means. I can see exactly what’s happening, even if the fucking excited shitheads in the comment section don’t.
I can see it in the tension in his face, the press of his lips, in his trembling fists. I see it in the way he stiffens before the contact even lands. And yeah, I see it in the way his fists fly forward when Mick finally steps back.
He didn’t want this. Hepushed.Iknowthis. Iknowhim.
“I think I’m gonna get sick,” Jace whispers when the clip ends and the cheering of the crowd is silenced.
I tear my eyes away from the screen and see him rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers digging into the blonde strands of his hair in what seems utter desperation.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna get sick.”
