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“I didn’t play you. I made a choice,” I say, trying to explain, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.
“You made the wrong fucking choice, Pen,” Xeno spits, his self-righteousness getting my hackles up. How dare he? Has he forgotten the choice he’d forced uponme? At least I had a valid reason for doing what I did, unlike him.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Xeno?Youwere the one who wanted me to choose, who gave me a fucking ultimatum because I was stupid enough to fall in love with you all. It was an impossible decision,” I yell back, my fists clenching and unclenching at my side.
“I was trying to do the right thing!” he booms, his fist slamming onto the studio wall. Zayn, York, and Dax all snatch their heads around, looking at Xeno in shock. His outburst was clearly something they hadn’t expected. Not that I give a shit. I laugh hysterically in the face of his reasoning.
“The right thing! What, you mean like joining the Skins was?”
When he doesn’t answer, when hewon’tanswer, I just shake my head. Grief claws at me, threatening to shred me open until I’m nothing but a mess of skin, bone, and muscle.
I’m trembling all over as they watch me unravel before them. I’ve never felt so fucking open, so raw. It doesn’t matter how much I ache, how far I need to swim through the river of pain separating us, because it’s too late. It’s too fucking late.
Remembering what David had said and what I’m supposed to do now, my shoulders drop, my energy and self-righteousness dissolving, leaving me boneless. I look at each of my Breakers in turn because they’re still mine even though I’m not theirs.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it.
I’m sorry for the past, I’m sorry for the present and the gulf between us all and I’m sorry for what’s to come. I’m sorry for that most of all.
My apology is met with stony silence.
With as much self-preservation as I can muster, I walk towards the studio door holding onto what’s left of my tattered heart. I won’t cry because we’ve surpassed tears at this point, they’re useless. Tears never saved me from my brother’s wrath and they never brought my Breakers back no matter how many I’ve shed over the last three years. Ironic then that once I finally stopped crying for their loss, they returned. My hand lands on the door handle, stilling when I hear angry footsteps approaching.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Xeno asks, his voice dark, ominous with threat.
Drawing on my last ounce of strength, I turn and face him.
“Why does it matter? This is what I do, isn’t it? I run.” I ask, feeling suddenly cold, all the internal fire I felt doused in sweat that slides over every inch of my skin.
For a beat we just stare at each other, and even though I can tell he wants me to, I refuse to look away. I’m unable to read him any better now than I could back when we were friends. Perhaps that’s a good thing.
When he doesn’t answer my question, when none of them make a move to approach me and bridge the divide between us, I raise my chin, draw on my last reserves of energy and yank open the door, David’s threat a dark cloud looming over me.
As I walk away, only one thought echoes in my head: how the hell am I going to make them love me again? More importantly, how am I supposed to live with myself if I fail, because it isn’t my life I’m desperate to protect, but Lena’s.
