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My mom sighs. “Honey, we love you. But for the love of God, get out of bed, shower, and suck it the hell up.”
I sit up, only to lose my balance and sink sideways. Stupid air mattress. Hurt at how my mother, who’s supposed to comfort me through all my pain, is talking to me, I say, “Mom, I’m going through a difficult time. I should stay close to those who love me. It’s part of my healing—”
“It’s getting pathetic. We didn’t raise you to let anyone walk over you like this. If you feel wronged, do something about it. Stand up for yourself. Hiding away in your parents’ house is not going to fix your problems. Plus, you’re really interrupting our workout routine. I know you’ve been hurt, but fight. Where is that spitfire daughter of mine?”
My shoulders slump. “She got her heart broken by a man who didn’t see any worth in her.”
“Then show him what he’s missing. Rise above this. An Evans never accepts defeat.”
I lay back down. Defeat is putting it lightly. Three days have passed, and the pain has only gotten worse. I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s in my head, in my dreams. . . Thoughts of him consume me, along with all the what-ifs and ways this could have gone. She’s right. This isn’t who I am. Not that I would know since I’ve never been in love. And now that I know what it’s like, I can go another fifty to seventy years without it.
I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my shirt. “You’re right. I need to put my big girl pants on and move on.”
“Good. There’s a car outside for you.”
I sit up. “What do you mean?” Geez, I thought maybe I could sulk for another two weeks and then make my reentrance into the world.
“A very nice man named James is waiting for you.”
James? As inTheo’sJames? I shoot out of bed but get sucked back into the sinking mattress and roll off the side. “Jesus,” I huff and trip over my pajama pants, faceplanting into the floor.
My mom squeals. “Oh, goodness, are you okay?”
“Yep. Good. Where is he?” I run across the hall to the bathroom and stick my head through the blinds. An SUV is parked in the driveway, and James is standing with his hands clasped together in front of his waist. “How long has he been here?”
“Hmmm. . .”
“Mom! How long?”
“Three days.”
“Three days!Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried, honey, but with all your crying, you wouldn’t hear me.”
I stare down at James. Theo’s James. And then I come to my senses. “Tell him to leave.”
“Why?” My mom chases after me.
“I’m not going back.”
“Fable—”
“No! He—I—No.” I flop back onto the mattress. A loud pop echoes around the room, and I sink into the floor. “Seriously!You couldn’t at least have left my bed in here?”
“Fable, get the hell up.”
I lift my head. “Mom.”
“I know, but you’re being a bit dramatic.”
I wrestle myself into a sitting position on the flat mattress. “How? You have no idea what he did to me. How bad he hurt me.Liedto me.”
“He also told you to trust him. . .”
My eyes narrow while hers widen. “Excuseme?”
“I’m just saying. . .”
