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I’m not going to lie, my heart sinks when I realize it’s not Cole.
“Don’t risk being seen with me, Tyler.”
“Get in,” he repeats himself.
I realize I have no other choice. I don’t have any money with me to call an Uber. It’s too far to walk home alone this late at night.
“Thanks,” I mumble when I climb into the car.
“Are you okay? he asks, turning the music down.
“No,” I admit.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. This whole thing is so fucked up.”
“I did it to myself. I knew what the outcome would be.”
“Falling in love kind of ruined everything, didn’t it?” he asks, looking over at me.
“What?”
“You guys are in love. It’s obvious. I figured it out in Mexico,” he says, turning his attention back to the road.
“I wasn’t in love in Mexico,” I insist.
“You were. You just didn’t realize it yet.”
I don’t respond to him, because there's nothing to say. I might be in love now but look where that’s gotten me.
We pull up to my house, my dark and lonely house.
“I think she’ll get over the hurt,” he says, just as I’m grabbing the door handle.
“I’m not sure she will,” I tell him. “Thanks for the ride.”
He doesn’t reply, just nods, and I watch him drive away.
I collapse on the porch, sobbing. I knew what would happen. I knew that my life would be ruined, and I still let it happen.
I let myself fall in love with the devil and I have no one to blame but myself. If only he would have fallen in love with me too. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt this bad.
I pick myself up off the porch, unlock the door, and step inside. Pulling my phone from my purse, I see a string of obscene messages from Cam, and several missed calls from Cole.
I have to put some distance between the two of us. His sister will need him. Sometimes losing a friend is worse than a breakup. This is a person that’s known you your entire life. You go from inseparable to strangers in the blink of an eye.
I walk upstairs, peeling my clothes off along the way, and step into the shower. I don't know how long I stand there sobbing, when I hear my bathroom door open.
“Princess.”
“Go away, Cole. You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him, desperate to get rid of him, yet also desperately wanting to touch him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he insists, pushing the curtain back to step inside the shower with me.
He wraps his arms around me, allowing me to sob on his chest. This isn’t sexual. He’s trying to be here for me. He’s trying to comfort me. I don’t know why that makes me cry harder.
“In a different world, we could have been something amazing,” I tell him.
He cradles my face, forcing me to look at him.
