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“Cole.” She stops and pushes the elevator button.
“Thanks for everything.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “For letting me stay here and, ya know, but I’m okay.” She readjusts her bag on her shoulder. “I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ve got it from here.”
“Yeah.” I shove my fingertips into the front pockets of my jeans, willing myself not to go after her. “Okay.”
The elevator doors open. She smiles at me and gets in.
I watch the doors shut, closing her out of my life.
Fuck! I rush my fingers through my hair, glancing around my empty place. Her scent remains in the air. Her coffee cup sits on the counter. The remnants of her kiss linger on my lips.
She will be difficult to get rid of, not only in my flat but also in my heart.
Chapter 30
I enter the place I used to call home.
It smells the same, like sage and lilacs.
When I got home, I wasn’t even here for one night. I got the call and rushed out to the drop-off site, stayed the night in the motel with Amanda, and came back to a counseling session. I didn’t even get a chance to unpack.
Entering the living room, I find my luggage is still piled by the door. Well, I better get this stuff put away. Aunt Willa will be home in three days, and I want to make sure everything is perfect.
I lug the luggage two at a time up the stairs and walk into my bedroom, dropping the bags.
Shit! It’s just as I left it. My sneakers are still on the floor by the closet, the college T-shirt I haven’t seen in five years is draped over the chair, and my favorite lipstick is on my nightstand. I walk over, pick it up, and twist the cap off. They stopped making this shade a few years ago. Hmm… it looks wearable.
I slip the cap back on and set it down, taking in the rest of my room. I catch my reflection in the mirror. Damn, I fan my hand down my hair. I look like shit!
I move toward the mirror and stop when I notice the picture of Tyler from prom and me. I pluck it from the mirror and run my hand over it. Fuck you, Tyler. Why’d you have to leave me? I’ll never forgive you for it.
I pull off the other pictures of us from the mirror and toss them in my desk drawer. Anger and rage refuel.
This is why I left.
I couldn’t shake it. Shake him. He broke my heart. And if I look in this room, unlike everything else I left behind, I won’t find it.
It’s gone. He ripped it out of my chest and hid it well.
Shit, after five years, I thought I’d be over it.
I sit down on the bed. I want to go back to Cole’s. There are no reminders, no pictures, old shirts, or broken hearts.
Just Cole.
Last night, when he told me about Miranda, I thought I was going to cry. I wanted to. It was difficult. I let one tear drop, but that was all. I stopped myself. I’ve learned how to do that. Shut down my emotions and hide them like my heart.
We all have our secrets, our heartaches. He started his journey through hell on a tricycle, and somehow came out of the blazes in a truck. He’s right. He’s not that little boy caught in his own living hell. He survived. He got out with no help from the adults who were supposed to support, guide, and protect him. He managed to bust through the gates of hell all on his own.
Finding that poor girl dead must’ve made Cole grow up faster than he should’ve. Then again, his mother killed his father. Dammit! The things this man has had to endure.
Thankfully he had Brett to turn to, and I’m sure his older brother had his own terrors to pull through. I’m so glad they all found and have each other.
Aunt Willa tried to be there for me, but I’m stubborn. I’ve learned to fight the battles in my life on my own. It’s not healthy. I know. I took classes in college about that shit. I’m well educated in such matters. But like I mentioned, I’m stubborn.
My life consisted of my father’s hugs, my brother’s toothless smiles, and happy midnight snacks. When I lost them, I couldn’t rebound. I remained sad. Then I met Tyler…
No! I’m not going there. Tyler consumed my high school and college years. He made promises. He made memories. I’ve tried like hell to forget them.
