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“That's not true.”
She scoffs as she takes a few steps away from me. “Bullshit. I just watched you stare at her like she hung the goddamn moon!”
“Because I...” The truth almost slips out, but I bite my tongue and reign it in. “I was surprised to see her here. That's all.”
“What were you going to say?” she presses. “You started saying something else. What was it?”
I shake my head. “It's nothing.”
“Coward. Just say it.” She leans back against the counter on the other side of the room. “You love her, right? You're in love with her? Just fucking say it, Easton! It's completely obvious, so stop wasting my time and say it!”
With every second that she gets louder, my anger builds. And by the end of it, she's screaming at me and my restraint snaps.
“Enough!” I demand, making her flinch at my tone. “You want to fucking scream at me, fine, but do it at home! Don't ruin Carter's birthday because you can't seem to accept that I made a mistake!”
“A mistake?” she sneers. “You didn't drunk-dial your ex-girlfriend and share all your darkest thoughts and feelings. You lied to me for God knows how long and hid that you were hanging out with her behind my fucking back!”
“Yeah, I did! And then you agreed to stay with me and let me fix it. But if you're just going to hold it over my head like a damn guillotine, maybe leaving was the right choice.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel the regret and watch as her face drops. Pain and despair take over her perfect features as she drops her head and nods. Without saying another word, she goes to leave. I should let her, give her the space she obviously needs, but I can't.
“Wait,” I beg, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. “I didn't mean it.”
“No, I think you did.”
She tries to pull herself from my grasp, but I won't let go. “Baby, I'm sorry. Just stay here and talk to me.”
“Let go,” she pleads. “Easton, let go!”
Using all her strength, she yanks herself away from me at the same time I loosen my grip. She stumbles backward and, before I can catch her, falls and crashes into the counter. The sound of metal hitting metal echoes through the room, but all my attention is on Kennedy.
We stare back at each other, eyes wide in panic and unable to move. It's as if neither one of us knows what to say or do, but that if we make a wrong move, it could be the end of us right here and now. Just as I'm about to ask if she's all right or if I can help her up, the door swings open. Zayn and Amelia rush into the room and take in the scene in front of them.
Kitchen tools scattered across the metal surface.
Kennedy on the floor.
Blood dripping down her arm.
“What the fuck happened?” Amelia asks, going over to kneel next to Kennedy. “Are you okay?”
My girlfriend, if I can still even call her that, keeps her eyes locked with mine. “I'm fine. I just tripped and fell.”
“Ken, you're bleeding.” Amelia sounds concerned as she reaches for the napkin Zayn is handing her and presses it to Kennedy's arm.
Kennedy winces at the sting but then trains her expression to neutral. “I've felt worse.” She looks away from me and gets up with the help of my sister. “Come on. I need a drink.”
“Okay, but first, a Band-Aid.”
As they walk out of the room together, Amelia glances back at me—clearly wondering what is going on between us. The second they're gone, Zayn raises his brows at me, but I'm too busy being consumed by anger.
“Fuck!” I scream, kicking a metal table as hard as I possibly can.
This just went from bad to worse.
KENNEDY SPENDS TWO HOURS avoiding being around me at all costs, not that I can blame her. Hell, I'd avoid me too if I could. I've been trying to fake a smile for Carter's sake, but I don't think anyone is believing it. Especially not anyone who knows me well enough.
By the third time Kennedy walks away to keep no less than ten feet of distance between us, Zayn grabs us each a beer and drags me outside to smoke a cigarette. I lean against the cold brick wall and breathe in, letting the nicotine calm me from the inside out.
