Page 81 of Unraveled

Nope. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t hear him say the perfect thing when I was in the midst of crisis. “Don’t. This isn’t working anymore, Kellan. You coming in here after I asked you not to. Using your key. You crossed a line, and I can’t be with someone who would do that.”

How the hell had I gone from telling him I needed space to breaking up with him? I wasn’t sure, but self-preservation was in crazy-as-fuck full swing, attempting to get rid of him by any means possible.

“You don’t mean it.”

“I do. Please go and leave your key in the bowl by the door. I don’t want to see you again.” My chest hurt at the thought of him leaving my life. But I couldn’t manage his feelings while being so overwhelmed with my own. This was a runaway train I couldn’t stop.

“Babe.”

“Goodbye, Kellan.”

There was a thump, which I imagined was his head hitting the wall. “Okay. I’ll go. But do yourself a favor and call your brother before he’s down here doing the same thing.”

I swallowed hard, knowing he was right.

Even after the sound of his footsteps and the door closing made it obvious he was gone, I stayed in the bathroom for what seemed an eternity. I didn’t trust he wouldn’t try to fool me. But when I finally made my way out of the bathroom, warily, I saw I’d worried for nothing. He was gone. And I’d never felt so unbelievably empty.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Layla

If I’d thought the depression had been debilitating before, the realization Kellan had left and I’d broken things off triggered a new low and a fresh round of sobs. But I did take his advice and turn on my phone. My brother’s last text was in all caps.

“I’M GETTING IN THE CAR ABOUT TO DRIVE DOWN THERE UNLESS YOU CALL ME IN THE NEXT 10 MIN.”

The text was from five minutes ago. I couldn’t talk, but I didn’t want him driving two hours south, in which case I’d have to see him face-to-face.

“Can’t we text instead?”

“NO.”

Evidently, he wasn’t done using the shouting all-caps lock to convey how upset he was. As I dialed his number, I braced myself.

Russ answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Hi.” My voice broke on the one syllable.

“I’m getting in my truck anyhow.”

“No. Don’t. I won’t let you in.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Your hair?”

“Yep.” Please don’t say it’ll grow back. Please don’t tell me I’m being stupid.

“I’m sorry.”

My response was sobs.

Aside from cursing under his breath, he simply waited me out.

Finally, after a long time, I was able to talk. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“No. You’re not. What can I do?”