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I stared at it hard, unable to believe what I’d just seen. When it had started, I’d been upset about what Reuben was putting me through. But that was nothing compared to the rage that consumed me now, because now…now I was livid about what he’d just done to her.
She had no idea he’d filmed her first time. No idea he’d slept with her to get under my skin. No idea he was using her just to drive me insane.
She thought it’d all been real. She’d been nervous yet a little excited, wanting to please him and physically express what she felt for him. And I honestly didn’t think he had reciprocated any of that back to her.
If he didn’t—if this really had only been about pissing me off—then he’d just cheated her of the true experience she should’ve gotten. And it was all my fault.
He wouldn’t have known she even existed if it weren’t for me. He wouldn’t have gone after her if it weren’t for me. He wouldn’t have strung her along and led her to this if I hadn’t fucking fixated myself on her first.
This was all on me. She’d just lost something huge because of me.
That’s when I snapped.
If he wanted to come at me for whatever stupid reason he thought I deserved, fine. Bring it on, asshole. But hurting her in order to do it was unacceptable.
I don’t even remember what happened next. My brain checked out as the fury took over. I lost control to the point that the next thing I knew, Rush was flinging the door open and flying into the room, only to pull to a shocked halt and gape around him, murmuring, “What the fuck?”
I looked up from where I’d been sitting on the floor, back against the wall, elbows propped on my knees and my head in my hands.
The entire room was destroyed. Desks were turned over and ripped apart, scattered about as if a tornado had struck. The television, a large-screen that had been bolted high to the wall, had been torn off at one hinge and was hanging by one screw with the screen shredded. And my trumpet... Dear God. My trumpet was nothing but a mangled piece of brass, wadded on the floor next to me that in no way could resemble any kind of instrument.
Glancing down at the backs of my hands, I found my knuckles cut open and swelling, blood smeared across my flesh.
“Henry?” Rush’s cautious voice had me looking up at him. His eyes were wide as he shuffled closer, his expression leery as if he was approaching a cornered pit bull. “Bud? You okay? What happened?”
My face was wet. I wasn’t sure if I had blood smeared across my cheeks too, or if I’d just been crying. Either way, it didn’t really matter.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Without saying a word, I stood, moved past Rush, and walked out of the room, feeling dead inside.
23
Haven
My cousins had really gotten me to thinking. Not about the rebound sex with Wick, but the closure I needed with Topher.
Even though my checkup at the health center on Friday had been, you know, no fun at all, I had felt a certain relief after it, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I think it was because I’d been proactive and actually gone out and done something in response to my breakup.
So, wanting to do more and clean my slate completely so I could move on, I decided to visit my ex that night and return everything that belonged to him, along with things he’d given me over the years that he may or may not want back.
I paced the front room of my new apartment until Wick came home, opening the door and pausing when he saw me hovering.
“You’re home,” I announced the obvious. “Great. So practice is over, then?”
He frowned suspiciously. “Uh huh.”
“Cool,” I answered. This meant Topher would be out of practice too and probably also headed home. “And you don’t appear to have any more cut lips or proof of fighting. That’s good.”
Really good.
He nodded. “No fighting with your ex today, I swear.”
I smiled when he held up a hand as if pledging an oath. “Awesome.” I picked up the overflowing box I’d had sitting on the couch and turned toward the doorway where he was still standing in the open entrance. “In that case, I guess I better go over there to Topher’s and…” Pausing to roll my eyes, I muttered, “Return these things, make it official, find my closure, and do everything else I’m supposed to do at the end of a relationship.”
He studied me a moment before saying, “You sure you’re okay with that?”
“No,” I mumbled, easing forward when he stepped out of the doorway to let me exit. “But according to my cousins, it needs to happen so he’ll know for sure that we’re over, and also so I can finally close the door with him, or whatever, and move on.”
