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“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t want this to happen. I wanted to hate him … I just …”
“I can’t believe I’m going down this road with you again. After all this time, you’re still the same self-centred brat you always were.”
The air leaves my lungs. I blink up at him with sodden lashes. My entire face is soaked from tears I didn’t even know were falling.
“I wish you never came back,” he snarls.
He spins, striding away from me. I try to breathe, but no air enters my mouth. I press a hand to my stomach, feeling everything twist painfully inside me.
“He’s right, you know,” a voice says. “You only want what you can’t have and then when you get it, it’s still not enough.”
Jess steps in front of me, the light from the streetlamp casting a yellow glow over her. She looks taller, and I glance down at the gigantic heels she is in.
“Yeah?” I straighten, my eyes narrowing. “And how does it feel always being second best to me? Even when I was fuckinggoneyou were second best.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel disgusted with myself. Jess’ jaw ticks for a moment, her fists clenched. She steps forward and jabs a finger so close to me, I feel the whoosh of air fan over my nose.
“You may have changed everything on the outside, but it doesn’t change how ugly you are on the inside,” she snaps, stomping past me, in the direction Nick disappeared.
I feel the venom of her insult slither through my veins, hitting a little too close to home. My stomach cramps painfully.
I still haven’t caught my breath when I stagger back into the club, remembering at the last moment to wipe my face. As I slip inside the door, my heart stops.
A pair of dark eyes stare back at me. I blink a few times, trying to get the tall figure leaning on the bar to come into focus, but when my vision finally clears, he is no longer there.
It can’t have been him.
Elliot.
My eyes roam wildly around the room, searching, but after a minute, I realise I must have imagined it.
“Are you okay?” Belle grips my shoulders, peering up at me.
“Where is he?”
She pauses for a moment before pointing over to a table. I hurry over to him and touch my hand to his back. He turns, glaring at me.
“Harley—”
“Nope.”
“Please, Harley—”
“No, fuck this.” He shakes me off. “You left me. Again. For him.”
“Harley, I told you I didn’t want to hurt him—”
“Who came over to who? Who pulled who onto the dance floor?”
“I know, I know.” I cradle my head between my hands, a deep ache pulsing behind my eyes. “I just didn’t want this to go down like this. I’m a fucking mess.”
Harley’s face softens slightly. He sighs.
“I need to get out of here. I need to think.”
“About us?”
“About everything.”
