For a while, we’re both quiet. Scottie continuing to rub my back, while I stay suspended, not ready for anyone to see me cry, not even Scottie.
Eventually I have to straighten, too much blood having rushed to my head.
Scottie’s sympathetic eyes meet mine. “Maybe you should talk to him. This isn’t normal. Most people don’t puke after running into an ex. Especially with how long it’s been.”
“He’s different.”
“You’re literally so sick over the breakup that it makes you physically ill. Don’t you think you’d feel a hell of a lot better just telling him what happened and getting it all out in the open? There’s no way this is healthy.”
A sharp pang of anger hits me. “There’s no point in telling him. You know I hate talking about it, I can’t believe you would bring it up right now.”
“I can’t keep watching you not deal with this. Deal with it! Face him!”
I turn, walking down the steps that lead into the narrow ally, my shoes echoing against the payment, breath fogging in my line of vision. I don’t need Scottie—of all people—judging me and my decisions.
“Elle!” She calls out. “Real mature, walking away. You’re a fucking pro at it. Too afraid to handle your shit.”
I keep going, ignoring her. I’m not in the right headspace to deal with anyone, not even my best friend. And the worst part, is she’s not wrong, which makes it hurt so much more. Her words cut to levels I don’t let anyone past. I don’t want to feel this—any of this. I want to forget.
As I turn the corner toward Main Street, I nearly collide with a curly-headed blonde woman. “Sorry Sherry,” I say as my steps falter. Apparently, there’s still some tequila lingering in my system.
She’s leaning against the brick building, a cigarette between her lips as she takes a long drag. She turns her head to exhale the smoke, but keeps her eyes fixed on me.
“Rough night?”
“Something like that,” I tell her, lifting my shoulders. I’m not about to divulge it all to Red Mountain’s queen of gossip.
“Here.” She nudges a box of cigarettes at me. “Have one, it’ll take the edge off.”
I shake my head, eyeing the box. “I don’t smoke, but thanks anyway.”
She nudges it again. “Come on, looks like you’ve been through it. Trust me, it’ll help.”
I’m not sure why, but I reach for it, taking a cigarette out, and handing the box back to her.
“Like this.” She demonstrates, lighting a fresh one for herself and then lighting mine. “All you gotta do is inhale and then blow it out.”
I do as she says. I’ve never smoked anything before and it takes me a few tries to get it right, but when I do, the rush of calm is indescribable. The cool menthol fills my lungs, immediately relaxing me—ridding the taste of vomited alcohol still in my mouth.
“Feels good, huh?” she says, raising her brows. “Always does the trick for me.”
Joining her, I lean against the brick wall and text Shane to come pick me up. Oddly enough, he’s the only one who never bothers me about the breakup, never asks questions about Dominic. As soon as I told my family we had broken up, Shane accepted it without a second thought, and he’s had my back about it ever since.
Sherry tells me she suspects her husband is cheating. I only half-listen, but nod my head along to her story.
What a weird fucking night. With another drag, I close my eyes, tipping my head back and all I see is him. His eyes, how much more grown up he looks now than he did the last time I saw him, how the regret that weaves through me feels like a knot that will tighten enough to kill me one day.
And I hate myself a little more.
CHAPTER 43
Dominic
MY ONLY PLAN
PRESENT
“You’re going to hate me,” Ellie whispers as she moves to sit up.
