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Rowan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “It’s never going to stop hurting, not if you love him. Do you love him?” Her eyes widened in surprise at her own question.
I nodded. “I do,” my lip trembled.
“Oh, Tate.” She climbed onto the bed beside me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but he’s hurting too. Please, don’t give up.”
Sniffling, I wiped beneath my eyes. “It hurt so bad seeing him kiss her. It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest and stomped on. I just need to regroup.”
“How long will that take, though?” She asked. “A few days? A week? A month? Forever?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I just need to figure some things out.”
She smoothed her fingers through my hair and then started to braid it. I’d seen her do something similar with her sister when she was trying to comfort her. “If you need to talk about it, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you,” I said and meant it.
“No problem. That’s what friend’s are for.”
We grew quiet as she braided my hair. After a while, I asked, “Can you stay for a while?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“I’m feeling a little hungry…could we order pizza?”
“Pizza sounds great. I’ll get it ordered while you shower.”
“Is that your subtle way of telling me I stink?” I asked, rolling over to face her.
She laughed. “No, but you look like crap and a shower always makes me feel better. Come on,” she pushed my shoulder, “out of bed.”
I rolled out of my brother’s bed and stretched my arms above my head.
Looking around, Rowan said, “This is your brother’s room.”
I nodded, even though it hadn’t been a question.
“Why the hell are you in here, and not in your room?” She asked.
I looked away and let out a sigh as sadness filled me once more. “My room reminded me too much of him.”
Just saying the words made me remember the feel of his body wrapped around mine as we slept in my bed.
Rowan’s eyes filled with pity. “I’m sorry, Tate.”
“It’s not your fault,” I mumbled, heading for the bathroom. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine for believing I could be different. When it came down to it, Jude obviously thought I was another girl he could screw over easily. He’d used me until he’d grown tired of me and tossed me away like a broken toy the moment he kissed Brooke.
I turned the hot water on and stayed beneath the hot spray for as long as I could stand it. Rowan was right, it did make me feel better. I let the water soothe my tense muscles and washed my hair.
When I got out of the shower I brushed my hair and teeth. I was surprised to find clean clothes waiting for me when I opened the bathroom door. Rowan had grabbed them and set them out so I wouldn’t have to go into my room.
I grabbed the clothes and closed the bathroom door once more as I changed into the sweatpants and t-shirt. Despite spending all of last night and most of the day in bed, I felt exhausted. My rest had been filled with troubled thoughts.
I forced my sluggish feet downstairs and found Rowan sitting in the family room, watching TV. “Hey,” she turned around and smiled when she saw me, “feeling better?”
“A little.” I forced a smile, but it splintered and cracked. I began to cry as I sat down beside her. She grabbed a blanket, draped it around my shoulders, and pulled me into a hug.
“Shh,” she comforted. “It’s okay, Tate. Let it out.”
“Why does it hurt so bad,” I sobbed. “It shouldn’t be this painful.” I wiped my tears on the blanket. I was sick of crying over Jude, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I was hurt and angry—at him and myself.
