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I shot forward and caught her hand that was wrapped around the bottle. Then I helped her steady it and hit the cup the next time she poured. Once it was half full, I helped her lower the bottle back to the counter, where I finally let go.
Haven looked up at me, her blue-gray eyes full of agony.
“What happened with your friends tonight?” I asked softly.
She shook her head. “I don’t have friends anymore.”
Heartbreak oozed off her in painful waves. I lifted my hand and reached out before I could stop myself. But the closer I came to her face, the slower I moved. Haven didn’t pull away; she just closed her eyes as if waiting for the comfort. So I cradled her cheek gently.
She shuddered and bowed her head, easing closer to me. I lifted my other hand to stroke her hair. She let me, placidly standing there, soaking in each touch like a dehydrated sponge, thirsty for more.
“What happened?” I asked again, whispering it this time as I set my mouth against her forehead.
Shaking her head, she fisted her hands and thumped them lightly against my collarbone. “He fucked them,” she uttered in a hollow voice. “Every friend I thought I had on campus, and it turns out, they’ve all slept with Topher at some point behind my back while I was with him.”
My eyebrows rose. “Whoa.” That was messed up.
“Yeah,” she agreed on a bitter laugh as she looked up at me, exposing a black mascara trail slipping down each cheek. “And it gets better. Tonight was a setup.”
“A setup?” I frowned, thinking about the way Cannon had used that very term.
Haven nodded. “They didn’t ask m
e out to console me and help me get over the breakup. He had them lure me there so he could show up and try to win me back.” With a harsh laugh, she shook her head. “Can you believe that? He has them all brainwashed into thinking he’s some kind of god or something. They’ll do anything for him, no matter how fucked up it is. He really thought he could get me back too. It was so crazy; I wanted nothing to do with it, so I tried to leave, except he wouldn’t let me go, and Jesus…” She wiped at her cheeks as more tears fell. “I needed strangers to step in and help me get out of there. Not my so-called, backstabbing friends. Some girl and her boyfriend walked me to my car because Topher just wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I…I…”
She shook her head, suddenly at a loss for words.
“Shit,” I murmured sympathetically, wishing I knew what to say or do to help her through this, while mostly, I just wanted to track Topher down and beat his ass, except hitting him had never solved anything for me before. I hated that I didn’t know how to just…put that fucker in his place.
She looked at me and sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m unloading all this on you. It is so not your problem.” Letting go of me, she picked up the glass on the counter and dumped the contents down the drain.
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “If you need to get it off your chest, just let it out.”
But she shook her head. “No. I’m tired of talking about it.” Grabbing a paper towel, she wiped up the puddle she’d made with the tequila. “I’m just…tired.” After tossing the used paper towel, she turned toward the doorway to leave the kitchen.
More tears streamed down her face, but she ignored them until she wobbled unsteadily on her heels and twisted her ankle.
“Whoa.”
I caught her by the forearm when she started to go down, steadying her. She grabbed two handfuls of my shirt, clutching me gratefully as she leaned in to hide her face in my chest as if she were embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, soaking my collar with tears. “I’m such a mess. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. Why do I just keep crying? I thought I was done with that bullshit. I never used to cry like this, especially in front of people. And now, it’s all I seem to do.”
“It’s fine. Don’t apologize,” I murmured, pressing my cheek to her hair. “You’re not a mess.”
“I’m a fucking mess,” she argued brokenly. “I…I…I just don’t get how things keep feeling worse and worse. When is it going to get better again?”
I shook my head. “Sometimes, you have to sink all the way to the bottom of the pool before you can reach a sturdy enough base to really push yourself back up to the surface again.”
“But it feels like I’ve been sinking forever,” she sobbed, clutching my shirt. “It feels like I’m drowning. Wick…”
“Shh. You’re not drowning,” I assured her. “I won’t let you drown.”
“Promise?”
I kissed her hair. “Of course.”
Nodding as if comforted, she kept her face buried in my shirt and mumbled, “Okay. Thank you. Okay. But can I… Can I hold on to you a minute longer, just until I get my balance back?”
