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Her words rattled around my skull.
Love.
She loved me.
“You don’t love me.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel,” she seethed, determination glittering in her eyes as she lifted her chin with defiance. “I think I’ve known for a little while… and I think you feel the same. And I know it’s a mess, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”
“No.”
Peyton jerked back as if I’d slapped her. “No?” Her voice shook. “No, we won’t figure it out, or no, you don’t feel the same?”
Steeling myself, I inhaled a thin breath. “I care about you, Peyton, I do. But I don’t… I can’t love you.”
“You can’t love me.” She repeated the words quietly, the disbelief in her voice shredding my insides. “But I felt it.” It was a cracked whisper. “Every time you kissed me, every time we were together, I felt it.”
She wasn’t going to accept this, not unless I ripped out her heart and trampled all over it. I stared at her, silently pleading with her to understand. Don’t make me do this.
“I’m sorry. I am. I should never have let it get this far.”
“You’re lying. You’re trying to protect me… I get it. I do. But I choose you, Xander. I choose you and nothing anyone says or does is going to change that.”
“This was a mistake.” I pressed my lips together, letting the words sink in. “I’m not looking to settle down, Peyton. This was fun and all, but it was never going to last. We both know that.”
Tears fell freely down her cheeks. “I see.” She shuddered, her eyes shuttering on a sharp inhale.
Guilt swarmed me, threatening to topple me to my knees. Couldn’t she see it wasn’t only her own heart breaking?
“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I’m sorry it went down this way.”
Peyton sniffled, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “You know that night you pulled me from the river, I thought you were my hero. How wrong I was.” Her laughter was ugly, dark and twisted, mirroring the storm raging inside me. “You’re not the hero of my story, Xander. You’re the villain and I will never forgive you for breaking my heart.”
She moved around me to the door.
“Peyton, wait,” I rushed out. “I’ll give you a ride home. It’s the least I can do.”
She scoffed, yanking the door open. The blast of frigid air was nothing compared to the temperature in my apartment.
Her eyes seemed to look through me as she said, “I think you’ve already done enough.”
Peyton walked out of my apartment without looking back, completely unaware that she was taking my bloody, bruised heart with her.
* * *
Two days later,I finally left my apartment. Jason had called earlier to say that he’d handled Huckley, but it came with a steep cost. I burrowed into my jacket and headed toward the familiar row of graves, crouching low to run a hand over Mom and Dad’s marbled headstones.
“Hey, Mom, Dad.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I messed up. Fuck, I really messed up good this time. There’s a girl… and she’s smart and funny, and God, she’s beautiful. And she gets me. She knows what it’s like to be lost. I don’t deserve it,”—I’ll never deserve it—“but I think she loves me.
“You’d love her. She doesn’t take herself too seriously and she loves those cheesy holiday movies you both loved. But she deserves better…” I almost choked over the lump in my throat.
Two days and I’d heard nothing from Peyton, not that I expected to. I’d seen the utter devastation in her eyes as she’d walked away from me, the betrayal. She’d let me in; given me a rare gift, and I’d thrown it back in her face like it meant nothing.
Like she meant nothing.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled a shaky breath. When I opened them again, I heard the crunch of leaves.
“I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I wanted to come and say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do better. I’m so fucking sorry I’m not the son you wanted me to be. But I’m going to try, okay? I’m going to figure out how to fix myself, and who knows, maybe there’s still a happy ending out there for me.”
