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I get out of the car before she or Dad can say anything and march up to my room, jumping on my bed and burying my face in my pillow. I thought my tears would dry up by now, but the fountain has been replenished. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop crying.
“Chloe?” Mom and Dad knock on my door. “Can we come in?”
“I’m already in bed!” my muffled voice calls. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay. Just need to sleep.”
They’re quiet for a few seconds before Mom says, “Okay. Let us know if you need anything.”
What I need is to lose all my memories. That’s the only way I can recover from this.
When my pillow is basically drenched from my tears, my phone beeps. And beeps again. And then again and again. I reach for it and scan the screen. It’s my friends and the guys, asking if I’m okay. It doesn’t look like they’ll quit texting me until I give them an answer.
There’s no text from him. I don’t know if that makes me relieved or even more hurt.
Chucking my phone aside, I smash my face into my pillow again. I never imagined my night would turn out this way. I thought it would end with a boyfriend, or at least a potential boyfriend. I would have settled for a friend, too. But what I got instead was a betrayal and a broken heart.
And I lost my best friend.
After crying like this for a few more minutes, I yank myself off my bed and pad over to my desk. My nose is runny and my face is puffy. I can’t remember the last time I bawled like this. Maybe never.
I pull open the bottom drawer and dig out the folder where I stashed every letter and poem the secret admirer has given me, plus Mr. Love’s responses for the advice column. I study the words, dissect them, analyze them, trying to determine if I can see Liam in here. Hoping that he’s lying and maybe the secret admirer really does exist and all this is just one big nightmare…
But I need to stop living in a fantasy world.
I don’t see Liam in here, just that Mr. Love seems like a good guy. Like an expert on love. I scoff. Liam, an expert on love? If he was such an expert, he would have told me how he felt. And the letters…fresh tears prick my eyes when I’m engulfed in the memories of how it felt to receive them. And the sweet poems.
I’m about to tear them up, but something stops me. My heart. Although it’s broken, I can’t bear to destroy these letters that meant so much to me. Because I know Liam’s not a bad person. Even though I called him horrible, he’s not. He just did something horrible. And I’ve loved him for so long…
These letters and poems would have had a whole different meaning if he just signed his name on the bottom.
After grabbing a tissue and wiping my nose and eyes, I close the folder and stash it back in the bottom drawer. Then I crawl into bed, fold myself into the fetal position with my stuffed animal in my arms, and continue to cry.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Liam
An hour earlier
“Chloe,” I whisper as I watch her leave the ballroom with her family.
Shaking my head, I swallow the lump in my throat and head to the hallway. Dropping down on one of the sofas, I bend forward and bury my face in my hands.
The thing I feared happened—Chloe ran away from me. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain. But maybe I deserve it. What I did was inexcusable.
She’s right. I am a horrible person.
My heart pounds all over my body as I replay the memory of her hurt and betrayed expression. It’s more than pain. It’s something so deep there’s no word for it.
Why didn’t I just tell her how I felt?
Footsteps stampede into the room. “Liam?”
A group crowds around me. I don’t need to raise my head to know it’s my friends.
“What happened?” Lily asks. “Chloe just ran off after you guys danced.”
“It was so sweet of you to dance with her after she was feeling so crummy,” Ava adds. “But why did she run?”
I lift my head and catch Willow’s eyes. From the look on her face, I know she knows exactly why Chloe fled.
