Page 102 of The Truth of Us

I threw a pen at him. He caught it and laughed.

Then there was Caleb, who did not say "heartbroken" but did look at me like I was one tantrum away from needing professional help. Julian simply stared at me too long during meetings, which was worse. Rowan said, “You look like shit.” Which honestly felt more respectful. Still, the word sat there. Lucy looked at me with a soft, concerned look on her face, and Emily told me I looked like a lost, heartbroken puppy…

Heartbroken. The term felt like something sticky on my skin, so obviously I tried to ignore it.

I went to the gym and lasted twenty-seven minutes before leaving because the treadmill felt like punishment and every woman with blonde hair made my body react like a shock collar.

I tried working late and accomplished nothing except reading the same sentence in a contract eight times while wondering whether Harper had been to that restaurant on Oak Street without me.

I tried sleeping; that went poorly.

I tried not drinking; that went worse.

I tried women, or more accurately, women tried me. They approached at events, bars, private dinners, and industry bullshit. They smiled, laughed, touched my arm, and angled their bodies toward mine with open invitation. And I felt nothing. No interest, or pull, no easy hunger I used to mistake for chemistry. Just a low, irritated emptiness. Because one laughed too loudly, one wore too much perfume, one asked me what I did for work even though my name had been printed on the program she was holding, and one touched my wrist, and all I could think was what it felt like when Harper reached for me. Which was inconvenient because Harper did not reach for me anymore. Harper did not call or text. She did not exist anywhere I could find her, and yet I kept seeing her. Everywhere.

A woman turning a corner with blonde hair tucked into a coat, a laugh outside a coffee shop.

Every time my chest seized, but every time I looked closer, it wasn’t her.

And apparently, according to Theo, I needed fresh air and to get out and start living again. Which was why I was currently walking beside him in the middle of a freezing afternoon while he talked about absolutely nothing.

“Do you think Caleb has always been that emotionally unavailable,” Theo was saying, “or did boarding school make him worse?”

I didn’t answer.

“Because I’m leaning towards boarding school. Blackridge did something to all of us. Julian became a contract with legs. Rowan became allergic to joy. You became…” He waved a hand at me. “Whatever this is.”

“Charming?” I quipped.

“Historically, yes. Currently, no,” he retorted.

“Why are you here?” I grumbled; I was feeling so over... everything.

“To make sure you don’t do something stupid.” I shot him a look. “Too late, obviously,” he added.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Theo replied with a laugh.

“I do.”

“No, you hate yourself. I’m just a convenient person to deflect to.”

I stopped walking and looked at him.

He grinned. “What? I read that in an article Emily sent me.”

“Emily sent you an article about self-hatred?” I asked, because what the fuck…

“She sends me a lot of things.” He said with a soft smile. “She cares about my growth.”

“She wants to fix you.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I enjoy being her project.”

I stared at him. Theo North was smiling like an idiot. “Oh my God,” I muttered.

“What?”