Page 58 of Pretend it’s Forever

I gathered myself, left the bedroom, and quickly called a car, before pulling up my group text.

Me:

I need you. I’m safe. But I need you.

Just those simple words, and then each one of my sisters, by blood and marriage, answered back.

Isabella:

I’m on my way. I’ll kill him.

Blakely:

I’m coming too. I have the girls with me. You won’t be alone.

Scarlett:

I’m in town. I’m stealing one of Dorian’s cars.

Harper:

I’ll pick you up, Scarlett. I’ll be there soon, Sophia.

Phoebe:

I’m close to the house. Do you need me to pick you up?

Emily:

I’m already out the door. See you soon. We love you, Soph.

They would be at my home soon. And I wouldn’t be alone.

See? I wasn’t below nothing. I had family. I had friends.

I had people who cared about me. I slid into the car, once again realizing Carson hadn’t asked me to come back, hadn’t said a damn word to me after he’d made his peace.

I wasn’t alone, except in all the ways that truly mattered.

But this time, I didn’t break.

Chapter Twelve

CARSON

Lack of sleep meant that I was a real bear to deal with, then again, it wasn’t anything new, right? After all, I was the asshole that people whispered about before I walked into the room, and then suddenly they were busy at their own jobs.

If I were any nicer, things wouldn’t get done. I knew how that worked. At least that’s what I continued to tell myself. But I hadn’t slept at all since watching Sophia walk out of my house, as if I hadn’t been the one to push her out. I deserved whatever hell came my way. She had been so fucking strong.

Yet I had seen the absolute devastation in her eyes, when she’d given me that one look and realized that I was blowing her off. That I was pushing her away and doing my best not to reach out and never let go.

Because if I did, it would be a mistake. One of us would end up breaking the other. We would end up hurting the other person when things got too real, and I didn’t want to be the one to do that. She was so much better than me.

She had already dealt with one of the worst possible things imaginable, and had survived. And I had just been a distraction, a stepping stone into who she needed to be. And I hadn’t minded it. Fuck, I had relished in it. And that had been the problem. I had wanted too much. I connected too much. She had been everything, therefore I had to ensure it was nothing.

I knew that being as cold and callous as I’d been had been cruel, but I needed to ensure there was no space for miscommunication, or second guesses. We had both told each other there would be no promises, and yet the fact that we had promised it called us both liars.

She deserved someone better than me. Somebody who actually believed in something beyond a few nights. I shouldn’t have touched her at all, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself, and the way that she had melted in my arms had proved that we had been meant for at least those quiet moments.