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He shakes his head. His eyes get sad. "I'm sorry. I thought this could be different. I thought I could be different."
"You are. You… you already are giving me everything, Mal."
"No."
Dammit, I still need my purse. I push past Mal and grab it off the counter. The stupid bra is still hanging on my wrist. I shove that into my purse and I turn back towards the door.
I stare into his eyes. "If you want to end this because you're scared it will hurt more later, fine. But don't pin it on anything else."
"Lacey—"
No. I can't take hearing my name on his lips anymore. Not when it comes with all the weight of regret.
All that longing, like he wishes he could love me.
I blink back another set of tears. "Unless your next words are going to be you're right, I love you, I don't want to hear it."
He opens the door and steps aside. "I'm sorry."
"I know." I move through the door as quickly as possible. "But that doesn't mean shit." I pull the door closed behind me.
There's my car. It only takes a few steps to get to it in the driveway next to Mal's car.
I reach for my keys but my hands are shaking too hard. I can barely grab the zipper of my purse.
I stare back at the door like there's a chance it's going to open.
But there's not.
Mal dumped me.
It's over.
He's not going to chase after me now.
I turn and walk the three blocks to the beach.
I sit and watch the waves pound the sand.
When I walk back to Mal's place, his car is gone, and there's a fucking note on my windshield.
Let me know you get home okay.
- Mal
I hate him for leaving a note.
I hate that he cares about me.
I hate that I think about him the entire drive home.
I especially hate that I text him.
Lacey: I'm home.
I call Carrie but get voice mail. "I… I'm not okay. Call when you get a chance."
I hang up the phone.
