Page 96 of Broken Vows

“Fucking stop, Theo. Seriously just stop.” I swallow back a cry that’s inching its way up my throat, refusing to let him see me break again. “Just leave, okay. Go be the man that Annabelle needs you to be. Forget about me. Forget about us.” I swallow and push through the next words as steely as I can. “Because I sure as fuck am going to.”

Yes, I want to hurt him, and yes, I get a small sense of satisfaction at seeing the softness in his eyes tighten and morph into anger. His flushed neck, the way he looks like he wants to say something, the way the muscle in his jaw pops. And then, just like that, he’s gone, slamming the door shut.

Goddammit. Hot tears spring to my tired eyes. A moment later, Justin’s face falls when he steps into the room. He holds out his arms and I take the hug. I let my friend hold me when I’m so sick and tired of holding myself. God, I’m such a mess and I don’t even know how to not be one. What did I expect to happen? Did I really think getting involved with Theodore Astor would end with fucking rainbows and hearts? I shouldn’t be surprised. And yet… the loss cuts so deep, I don’t think I’ll ever stop bleeding.

Justin pulls back and his sincere blue eyes bore into mine. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Part of me doesn’t want to say anything. The shame of lying to Justin for months gnaws at my insides. But I need to purge these last few months, these last few years, from my soul. I need to tell him about the embers that started when I was nineteen that grew into an all-consuming wildfire that ravaged me and left me scorched and charred.

And so, I take a deep breath.

After I tell him everything, he reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze with nothing but kindness and love in his eyes. And I continue. “When I first started working with Theo, I was so focused on showing Annabelle the monster I thought Theo was, while getting my revenge. It was like a two-for-one special—ruin Theo, save Annabelle.”

Justin’s quiet look and soft eyes hit me hard. “So… similar to what Theo did to you at school. He convinced himself that what he did was to save you. Just like you thought this was for Annabelle.”

My breath stutters and catches in my throat, forcing me to drag in a sharp, uneven lungful of air. Like the metal teeth on a zipper cinching together, everything locks into place. This is the same conclusion my mom came to. And even though I know her loyalty will always be to me, I told myself she’d forgiven him simply because she had grown to like Theo after he’d treated and cared for her.

Did I start doing to Annabelle what Theo did to me? Is it the same thing? Under the guise of protecting her, I almost hurt her. And if that’s true, is there a part of me that understands why Theo did what he did back then?

My elbows dig into my thighs, and I drop my head into my hands. I don’t know… I don’t know… I had already made as much peace as I could with what Theo did all those years ago. But he lied. For months. In a week, he’s going to marry Annabelle. His love for her has never wavered. So, I can forgive him, sure, and maybe that would help me move on.

But what’s going to heal my heart?

The next morning, I wake in a clearer headspace—until the anger sets in again. It simmers as I replay my conversation with Dr. Astor: the snobbish judgment in his tone, the way he looked at me like I was beneath him.

No matter how fucked up Theo’s actions were, I don’t believe for a second Dr. Astor is innocent. I saw the sincerity when Theo told me about his dad, the genuine panic and fear that he thought I might be hurt. And after hearing about Olivia and the other girls, I know it’s all true.

And looking back now, replaying the moments Dr. Astor and I were alone together, I see everything in a new light. Back then, his father touched me. A lot. A hand lingering on my back, my arms, a brush of his fingers. He asked about my dating life, if I had a boyfriend who would be upset about the number of extra hours I’d be working. He offered to tutor me after hours, when campus was “quieter” and he could give me the “attention I deserved”.

And Theo was there, constantly dropping by his father’s office, interrupting the moments when I was alone with his dad. Even though he barely acknowledged me, maybe that was the point. Maybe those drop-ins were meant to deny his father the opportunity to hurt me. I’d like to think that I would’ve smelled a predator a mile away. But I’m realizing now it’s never that simple.

But Theo still took away my right to choose. He stole my future. Maybe that wasn’t his intention, but it’s reality. And he lied.

So, then, why do I miss him so fucking much? Why haven’t I been able to force myself to wash his pillow that carries his faint, lingering scent? Why do I keep thinking about being wrapped in his arms, the way he made my body burn alive, the way he pressed his lips into that little crook behind my ear that made me melt into him? Why do I crave the questions he’d asked me like he was a scholar and me, his fascinating subject?

In the shower, my lip starts trembling. My skin aches for his touch. My heart is breaking with the knowledge that what we had, as short-lived as it might have been, I’ll never feel again. Since I was nineteen, he’s penetrated my world and impaled by heart, he’s invaded and assaulted my soul, he’s brought me unimaginable, unbearable pain. Twice. But being without him hurts the most.

I miss him. But I fucking hate him.

All those years ago, he stripped away my future. I knew it then, and I deluded myself when we were together that he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t remember me. As someone who relies so heavily on gut and intuition, I pushed away my suspicions to be with him. I made a deal with the devil, and the devil won.

So fine, I have to live with the consequences.

But there’s one thing I can do. Maybe it’s a way to reclaim something taken from me. Maybe it’s something I should’ve done the moment Theo told me about Olivia, and the other women, and the investigation. Fueled with the rush of a purpose, I open a new tab on my browser, take a deep breath, and type in the name of my old dorm mate.

43 Lexie

The morning of the wedding is beautiful, showing hopeful signs it will continue to be a bright, sunny day with a light breeze. The rain contingency plan I built won’t be needed. On any other day, I’d be breathing a massive sigh of relief. But not today. In the passenger seat of our rental car, Sydney talks a mile-a-minute, either unaware of or indifferent to my silence and the sympathetic glances Justin keeps sending my way. She barrels on, oblivious to the heaviness filling the car and the two-word answers I’ve been mustering all my energy to provide.

Getting dressed this morning in my A-line midi emerald-green dress and pinning back the sides of my hair took a herculean effort.

The wedding day is actually here.

Last night in the hotel, I reread every message Theo and I exchanged these last six months. I paced the room, I stared at the wall, I took a bath and buried myself under an avalanche of thoughts and what-if scenarios. Yes, Theo lied. And it will take a long, long time to move past that. But what if he’d confessed from the start? Would these last few months have played out the way they did? Probably not. And if that is the case, even with how much I’m hurting, would I give up the time we shared? The way he made me feel? Probably not either. Justin’s words roll through me like tumbleweeds in a windstorm. Is it fair to have that conversation with Theo and ruin his day? Is it fair to stay silent and let it ruin my life? What does fair even mean anymore? None of this is fucking fair. Not for me, not for him, not for Annabelle.

The words “this is the most real I’ve ever been” played in a loop in my head until I fell asleep last night. If this is the most real he’s ever been, then why didn’t he try harder to find another way out? Or maybe he doesn’t want to be “real”. Maybe “real” is as terrifying for him as it is for me.

Ugh. By the time the rental car pulls into the driveway, beads of sweat prickle at my neck. I take a deep breath and put on a game face. As much as humanly possible, I need to pull off a wedding that I’m desperate to not pull off.