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“I am being honest with you. This was real. It is real.” He tries to reassure me, but I can’t hear any more.
“You’re being honest now because you have to be. But you weren’t upfront with me. The time to tell me you were engaged to someone was before you fucked me.”
“I know. I should have told you. But Scar, that night, it just happened. I didn’t plan it and I sure as hell didn’t expect it. I broke it off with her immediately after.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?”
He reaches around, squeezing the back of his neck. “I fucked up, okay?”
“You fucked up?” I shake my head. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Lying by omission is still a lie.”
“Why are you making this more than it needs to be? I broke things off with her. I never loved her. This shouldn’t affect us.”
“Only it does. Because I can’t trust you. And you’re proving that right now.” I take a breath, trying to steady myself. “Why did you leave, Westin?”
“What?” He looks confused by my sudden change of topic.
“You heard me. Why did you leave? Ten years ago. Why?” I ask, this time anger finding its way in past the sadness and pain.
I’ve never really gotten an answer to this question. And while it’s remained in the back of my mind these past couple of days, I haven’t pushed it. Mainly because it felt so incredible to be with him again and I was afraid that the answer, the real answer, might ruin any chance we had of moving beyond our past. And that’s what I want. Or at least, it’s what I wanted.
“I don't know, Scar. I was scared. I don't know.” The cool confidence that he carries slips and I can see the panic briefly cross his face before he pulls himself together. “Why are we even talking about this?”
“Because you are a coward and a liar, Westin Carver. You lied to me then, you are lying to me now. You know exactly why you left, yet even though you know I know there's more to it, you still deny me the truth.”
“Scarlett.”
“Stop saying my fucking name!” I scream across the small space.
He takes a step backward, clearly caught off guard by my behavior. He only knew the spineless, weak girl I was. He has yet to meet the real Scarlett. The one who spent years trying to rebuild her life after he left. This Scarlett is not so easily silenced. I’m me now. Not the version everyone else wants me to be.
“I’m going to say this only once. Get out and never come back. Don't call me, don't write, and don't you dare ever show up here again. Go home. Maybe if you’re lucky, Kate will still want to marry you after the way you fucked her over.” I walk quickly to the door and rip it open.
For a moment he hesitates, no doubt gauging how serious I am.
“Get out,” I repeat. “If I have to say it again, I will call someone to come remove you from this apartment.”
His shoulders sag in defeat as he walks through the doorway into the small foyer that leads to the staircase.
“Please.” He turns back to look at me. The pain in his eyes is so blinding that for a moment, I almost cave. I almost give in and crumble at his feet, but somehow I manage to hold myself together.
“Goodbye, Westin.” I look away from his face before slamming the door shut.
The moment I hear it latch, my legs give out and I crumble to the floor. Sobs pound through my body like an avalanche collapsing onto my shoulders.
I can't muster the strength to move. I can't find the will or the want to. So instead, I lay my head on the cool hardwood floor and close my eyes, praying for the pain to stop. Praying that this is all some bad dream. Praying that I didn't actually open myself up to the one person that should have never been given a chance to get back in.
Too bad prayers can't change the past.
