Page 139 of Before We Break

I stand, and an avalanche of Kleenex falls to the floor. That’s a problem for later.

The bed is rumpled from the last time Noah left it, and I know if I go over there it’ll still smell like him, too. I’ve slept on the couch every night for the past week so I wouldn’t have to face it.

I grab a change of clothes from my closet and pad into the bathroom. The first glance in the mirror is like a jump scare. My eyes are sunken and bloodshot, my nose is red-tipped with an angry rash around my nostrils, and my lips have been chewed all to hell.

I turn on the water and toss in a shower bomb. As steam billows around me, fogging up the room, I strip out of my clothes and step under the hot spray. I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting the scorching water wash away a week’s worth of dirt and grime. It can’t take away the pain lingering beneath my skin or the harsh sting of rejection that carved itself into my bones.

The good memories are as inescapable as our ending, like invisible paint splattered all over the apartment. The first time he washed my hair in the bathtub or the time we danced together in the kitchen. All of our best moments happened between my apartment and his, and if I’m going to find a way to heal, it won’t be between these four walls.

I stay in the shower until the water runs cold and every trace of the last week has been erased from my skin. After drying off and slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a plain cotton tee, I find Lexi sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine.

“Oh, thank god. I thought you drowned in there.” She tosses it onto the coffee table.

“Ha. Very funny.” I plant my hands on my hips and glance around the living room. Decision made. I pull out my phone and text my sister.

Me: Does the offer still stand?

Copycat: You know it does.

Me: We’ll be there in a few hours.

Copycat: I’ll tell Jax to get the guest house ready. Love you, Cici.

Me: Love you too.

“Start packing.”

Lexi’s face falls. “What?”

“I can’t stay here, Lex. We need a fresh start.” I sink onto the sofa beside her. “Pack enough for the rest of the summer. We’ll come back a week or two before the school year starts back up.”

She stands and throws her hands up, huffing out a breath. “I can’t believe you would give up like this.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m trying to move on. There’s a difference.”

“Typical Clio Marsden,” she says in a mocking tone. “Always running.”

She darts to her room, slamming the door before I can attempt to defend myself. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do have a bad habit of running when times get tough, but at least I don’t leave a trail of heartbreak behind when I go.

It takes an hour to pack, and another thirty minutes to coax Lexi out of her room. She’s set on giving me the silent treatment. I can’t say I blame her.

A horn blares outside the apartment. When I peer out the window, Callie is standing outside Jaxon’s truck. Tears spring to my eyes. I don’t deserve her.

After two trips up and down the stairs with various boxes and suitcases in tow, I hand Callie the last box containing my carefully wrapped cookie jar—the one thing I couldn’t leave behind in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. I just need to lock up.”

I make my way through the shop, averting my gaze in case Noah is nearby. I’m grateful we haven’t had a run-in this entire time. Maybe the lucky pennies are working after all. I do one last thorough check of the apartment, ignoring the sinking feeling as I stand in the middle of the living room. Most of our stuff is still here, but it feels so hollow.

With a heavy sigh, I step into the hallway and turn the lock, pausing with my hand on the doorknob and my heart in my throat.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to end,” I murmur, resting my forehead against the door panel.

When I turn to walk away, I find Emma standing at the top of the stairs. I swallow and meet her sympathetic gaze. “Take care of him, Emma. He’s going to need somebody.”

“Auggie or Noah?”

“Both. Tell Auggie I miss him,” I choke out the words, blinking back tears. “And I’ll see him at school.”

She grips my wrist before I can pass, holding me in place as we stand shoulder to shoulder in opposite directions. “He needs you, Clio.”