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Chapter Thirty-one
Elena
Ididn’tsayaword to anyone. The utter humiliation of being left almost superseded the devastation of losing the first person I’d been wholly open with.
I avoided Pen’s calls. Brushed off Helen and Zadie. Folded into myself like an old, discarded newspaper for two solid days.
A spark of fury burned in my belly, but it had yet to grow. I seemed to be stuck in shock, unsure how I’d gotten here.
Deep down, I knew it was me. Lachlan might have painted him dumping me into a lovely picture of selflessness—he’d done it forme—but behind it was the real shit show: I wasn’t worth taking a chance on. My baggage was too heavy for that big, strong man to carry.
Who could blame him, really? I was just a girl with a crazy mother, a rapist ex-boyfriend, and a streak of jealousy wider than a city block. Sure, I’d put out, but he hadn’t even been able to pin me down like he’d wanted to without me freaking out.
When Nate had broken up with me the final time our senior year of high school, it had been a relief. I’d gone through a minor destructive phase to soothe my bruised ego, but that had been a massive turning point for me. He’d freed me from that madness.
Lock letting me go didn’t feel like freedom at all.
This was being locked out in the cold. Rejection bound my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. I had no idea how to move on from this.
Zadie tapped my arm. “Hey.”
I looked up from my phone, surprised to see her and Amir sitting beside me. We were in accounting, so it made sense, but my head was stuffed with cotton, so it was taking me some time to process…well, everything.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my forehead in an effort to wake myself up. “Hello, you.”
She peered at me, concern etching into her soft features. “Are you sick? You look tired.”
I flicked her knuckles lightly. “Thanks, lovely. You’re beautiful too.”
She giggled. “You know you’re stunning, El, but Amir and I were here for two minutes before you even realized it.” She pushed a blueberry muffin toward me. “Eat this. I think you might need it.”
“Thank you.” I took it, but I didn’t eat any. My stomach was rolling too violently to even attempt it.
Zadie stared at me. When I didn’t touch the muffin, she sighed. “Are you okay?”
“Lock broke up with me.” I shrugged. “Give me a week or two, and I’ll rally.” I was my mother’s daughter, after all. Us Sanderson girls were really good at faking it until we were breaking. That might not have been the exact saying, but it fit. It didn’t feel true, but one day, it might.
“Shit,” Amir hissed. “Sucks, girl.”
I snorted. “Understatement. That salt-of-the-earth, nice-guy routine really fooled me.”
Zadie shook her head hard. “What happened? I mean, was there a fight? Did he say why? He seemed to like yousomuch.”
I recited his little speech for her, and the spark inside me grew. It still wasn’t big, but if I tended to it, maybe my anger would overtake this blinding, aching sadness.
Anger had been my near-constant companion in the past. It was an old, familiar friend. If I invited it inside, it would be like a sweet little reunion.
“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. If you could tell Helen…and, I guess, everyone else, that would be great.”
She rubbed the top of my hand. “He’ll realize what a big mistake he made.”
“Thanks for saying so, Z. He won’t, but I appreciate you’d think that.”
The biggest sucker punch was I couldn’t summon anymore anger. I wanted so badly to be furious, to blind myself with rage, but it wasn’t happening. This melancholy weighing me down was for emo kids and terrible poets, not girls in adorable pink Free People slip dresses. It clung to me like an ill-fitting second skin, or a disgusting leech, sucking me dry. I couldn’t shrug it off or replace it. It was with me until it was done with me.
After accounting, I dragged my feet getting to my next class. I hadn’t seen Lock since he’dset me free,but I couldn’t avoid him when we shared a class—especially not when our seats were right beside each other.
I stalled in the bathroom for as long as I could, swiping lip gloss on my lips and a little on my cheeks so I didn’t look like a dead girl. At least I was good at dress-up.
