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She looks nervous as she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth and crosses her arms over her chest. “I shouldn't even be telling you this but she cried for, like, a month straight. And she started drinking. Like, a lot. I thought her liver was gonna crap out at one point. I was genuinely terrified to leave her alone in case I came home and found her in a pool of her own vomit.”
A knot of worry forms in my chest as that horrific image flashes through my mind. Fuck. “I didn't know that.”
She offers me a sad smile. “Of course you didn't. She wouldn't let you.”
I hate that. I hate that so fucking much. And I'm angry, so fucking angry that whatever happened, she felt the need to deal with it alone instead of letting me, letting anyone, just help her.
“It was bad, Jackson. And I'm not saying it was all because of you, because the thing-that-shall-not-be-named played a part, but more often than not, it was your name she was sobbing.” Pen pauses, a crease forming before her brows. “She loved the fuck outta you, Jackson, and it makes me sad that you seem to think she didn't.”
I open my mouth to reply but nothing comes out. I don't know what to say. It's not that I don't think she loved me. I know she did. It's more that I don't think she loved me quite as much as I love her. Whatever Pen might be telling me now, I saw Luna on campus looking completely unaffected while I constantly felt like shit. And, well, maybe that reaffirmed that belief a little.
And I'd take that, her not loving me as much, any day over everything Pen just told me being true.
“I know it was her choice but losing you fucking destroyed her, Jackson. And if you think for one second that you don't mean anything to her…” Pen sighs and shrugs. “Well, then maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do.”
With one final sad smile, she walks away, leaving me with a head full of words, none of them making a whole lot of sense.
47
LUNA
It's barelythe afternoon and I'm already done with today.
Everything is going wrong. Class ran late so I was rushing to work. I had to change in the car and ended up with ripped tights and a missing button on my shirt. I did a coffee run and got a couple of orders wrong, my least favorite mistake because the office assholes never fail to make me feel like an insipid fool when I mess up.
Like I need any more of that lately.
An almighty sigh leaves me as I plop down on my desk chair, the wheels creaking as I spin. It's the first time I've sat down in hours because it's just been one of those days; everyone has needed something and I have had to provide it.
I relish in the silence of my office—well, my repurposed storage closet—but unsurprisingly, it doesn’t last long. Whoever raps their knuckles against my ajar door promptly ruins my break, and to make matters worse, the last time I saw the man lurking in the doorway, I was in the driver seat of his car.
More specifically, bouncing on his dick in the driver seat of his car.
I've managed to avoid him since but I guess all good things must end. Hiding a grimace behind a forced smile, I try not to sigh. “You need something, Paul?”
Taking my question as an invitation, my semi-regular hookup strolls into the room and sets a plastic takeaway cup on my desk. “Brought you lunch.”
A protein shake.
Lunch.
“Thanks but I already ate.” Not quite a lie. I did eat.
This morning.
But I’ll take starving to death over something green and chunky any day of the week.
Undeterred, Paul perches on the edge of my desk. “I haven't seen you in a while.”
Purposely so.“I've been busy.”
“You busy tonight?”
No.“Yes.”
“Oh.” He pulls a disgustingly cutesy pouty face. “Maybe next week?”
All I offer is a dismissive smile before gesturing towards the neat stack of papers in desperate need of photocopying and pointedly eyeing the door. “I'm kinda busy right now too.”
