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“Alright,” he says, leaning over and kissing my cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow then.”
And then he leaves.
And he comes back the next day.
He doesn’t push me or try to make me forgive him beyond asking me that one question and bringing me all kinds of gifts like they’re offerings to a deity.
His face is hopeful and I think I see him hold his breath as he waits for my answer. When I tell him no, he’s careful to not give anything away.
Or so he thinks.
I know his face like I know my own now, and I see his disappointment clear as day in the way his eyes lose their shine and the way his smile no longer has that special luster.
Every day I fight the almost overwhelming urge to give in and say yes. To forgive him. To move on. But thankfully my mind wins the battle every time, wrestling my unwilling heart back to safety and away from forgiveness.
That treacherous organ is the one who got me in this mess to begin with and I can’t trust it to discern the truth anymore, no matter how loud it calls for him.
No matter how much I miss him.
And I do.
It’s almost comical how lost I feel without his hourly presence in my life. I don’t even find the same joy in soccer now that I don’t get to practice with him daily or talk about how our favorite teams’ seasons are going.
I’ve loved playing soccer my whole life and in the matter of a few months it’s become so enmeshed with Rhys that it feels hard to separate the two.
But the bottom line is he lied about the entire foundation of our relationship. As disappointed as he is by my refusal to forgive him, he has no one to blame but himself.
And as hard as this breakup is to deal with for me, I need to learn to live with it because there’s no going back for us.
I can’t loosen the chains of my mistrust and let him in again when I’m not convinced he wouldn’t turn around and hurt me again.
So instead I prioritize spending time with my friends and concentrate on my classes.
Notably absent from those classes is Devlin who hasn’t been seen since the night of the championship win.
Rumors abound for days until it’s eventually confirmed that he unenrolled and moved back to England. His departure is surprising but not unwelcome, especially in my eyes.
I’d never wanted to see him again and I got my wish.
Although I can’t help but wonder if something – or someone – prompted his hasty departure.
After class I see Rogue in the hallway talking to a couple of people. I hesitate for a second, wondering if he knows why Devlin decided to drop out and whether or not it has anything to do with what went down between us.
Eventually, I decide to just bite the bullet and ask him.
I head towards him and his eyes slide over to me as he notices me approaching. He doesn’t say goodbye or even acknowledge the end of the conversation he was having, he simply leaves the people he was talking to behind as he walks up to me.
“Everything alright?”
“Oh, uh, yes,” I say, flustered by his focused attention on me. I’d half expected him to blow me off. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It wasn’t important.” He says, his face as closed off as ever. “What’s up?
I don’t beat around the bush. “Did he do something to Devlin?”
His features remain carefully blank and unlike Rhys, I can’t read him at all. “Rhys?”
“Yeah.”
