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“Because I’m a freaking idiot! I didn’t want to let her get to me.”

“But she did! She caused you to doubt me, to doubt us! Why?”

“Mom, Shelia, Quinn, Nicole, everyone said I had nothing to worry about. I needed to be strong!”

“But you broke. You broke under my watch because she’s a stupid, manipulative cunt. I thought I lost you! You should have talked to me!”

His nostrils flare, and his fists grip the hem of my sweatshirt. I feel small and stupid, knowing he’s right. “I’m sorry! Okay! I let her get to me!”

“Jesus.” He hangs his head and steps back.

I grab for him, but he slides away and punches another fist into the wall, making a matching indention next to the other from this morning.

When he faces me, his expression is full of pure hatred and torment.

“I have to know you’ll talk to me! This could have been handled months ago! If I’d have known she was taunting you, flaming your insecurities, I could have fucking nipped this shit!” He does nothing to control the irritation in his tone.

“Wait a damn minute! Are you blaming me? Implying this is my fault? Because I did come to you! Several times, I pointed out she was a problem.” I start getting riled up. “And what’s with the fucking mercurial mood swing? If you’re mad, great, be mad! Be infuriated. I’m right here with you. But do not, under any circumstances, insinuate this was my fault. I feel emotionally violated. That bitch gutted me.”

He starts pacing and yanks at his hair. “I’m a fucking blind jackass!”

“Think we established this last night.”

“You don’t get it. How can someone who means nothing almost destroy my everything?” He stops moving and slumps into a chair, his whole body deflating.

Suddenly, I see it. She really meant nothing to him. He never shied away from loving me. He knew I was jealous but had no idea why because I didn’t tell him. He trusted me to tell him, and I failed. My anger disappears. Now I’m the jackass.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeat.

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Why exactly are you sorry?”

“I should have talked to you. Instead of telling you how jealous I was at Christmas, I should have told you why.”

“You think?” He looks at me with the most crushing look he’s ever given me. “We’re supposed to be a team. I can’t do this if we’re not a team.”

My heart stops, and I hold my breath.

“I can’t be a ‘Shawn’,” he continues. “If you can’t tell me how you feel, how can I make it better? He ignored the signs, but did I?”

“No,” I disagree. “I tried to be strong, mature, even supportive. You never ignored me.”

“But you chose to live with the burning inside that made you question every time I was around her, didn’t you?”

I try to deny it, but the tear that falls betrays me.

“When did this start?”

“I felt uncomfortable when she glanced at us at graduation. Then when I came to visit the first time, I found the picture she sent to Nate of the two of you.”

“Over four fucking months?”

I nod hesitantly.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? I promised you that you’d never hurt because of me again. I failed you.”

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