to make me think you might feel the same way that I feel about you, and then in the next second, you’re cold and you flaunt other women in front of me.” The tears fell fast now and I could see Adam’s own eyes starting to shimmer with pain. I didn’t care. I had to get this over with. “The only person who’s ever really hurt me is you. And I keep letting you.”
“Ellie . . . ” he sounded wounded as he took a step toward me. “I do love you,” he admitted and instead of feeling joy at those words, the last piece of me holding onto hope crumbled.
I shook my head. “But not enough.”
“You know that’s not true. Els, you of all people have to understand. If you and me start something and it all goes south, I lose Braden too. I’ll lose the two people in the world who mean the most to me.”
I wanted to understand him. I tried to understand the reasons behind people’s actions because I wanted to believe the best in everyone. But all I knew was that I loved him enough to risk it all—to risk our history—for something more, and the fact that he wasn’t willing told me he couldn’t possibly feel the way I felt about him. I didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone I loved more than he’d ever love me.
“Go home, Adam,” I replied softly. “We’re done.”
His eyes widened in shock. “Ellie—”
“I’ll pretend for Braden. When we’re all together, I’ll pretend for Braden that nothing has changed between you and me.” I held his gaze, attempting to be strong as I ended us. “But whatever this is, it’s over. Everything. Don’t call me, don’t visit. Just don’t. I don’t want you near me when you don’t have to be. It hurts too much, and if you care about me even just a little bit, you’ll stay away from me.”
I didn’t let him reply. I couldn’t. I turned and strode down the hall into my bedroom, closed the door behind me, and leaned up against it as I tried to catch my breath.
There was silence in the hallway for what seemed like forever, and then finally I heard the front door open and close quietly.
The burn in my throat burst out into sobs, and I slid down the door trying to catch my breath through the pain . . .
Chapter 8
“Most miserable bloody weeks of my life after that.” Adam turned the pages, scanning my sparse entries after that night.
I slid my hand around the nape of his neck and gave it a squeeze. “Me, too, honey.”
He lifted my hand from his neck and brought it around to give my knuckles an absentminded kiss. “The night at Jenna and Ed’s wedding was fucking torture.”
I agreed with him completely. We’d both taken dates. I went with Nicholas, just to be particularly annoying, and Adam had taken some random girl with him. Although I’d flitted around the wedding, acting my cheery self and steadfastly refusing to look Adam’s way, it was one of the most painful experiences of my life.
Adam threaded my fingers through his and rested our hands on his lap. “Here it is.” He held the diary up.
“What?” I frowned, trying to read my writing.
“I’m fast-forwarding to my wake-up call.”
Monday, December 17th
I’m writing this as quickly as I can because I can see Adam is about to rip the pen from my hand and use whatever means at his disposal to bring my attention back to him. Since I like the means he will use, I need to get this down. It’s been an utterly exhausting weekend but today I woke up feeling stronger than I have in a while. This morning I woke up to something beautiful, and I swear after the last week I’ve had, I didn’t think that was possible . . .
Focusing on a crack in my ceiling I attempted to push the fear and desperation back. There was this buried part of me that kept trying to push up and grip my chest from the inside out to pull me to it to whisper desolately, “I’m not ready to die.”
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop . . .
I couldn’t think like that.
But it
“Ellie . . . ” he sounded wounded as he took a step toward me. “I do love you,” he admitted and instead of feeling joy at those words, the last piece of me holding onto hope crumbled.
I shook my head. “But not enough.”
“You know that’s not true. Els, you of all people have to understand. If you and me start something and it all goes south, I lose Braden too. I’ll lose the two people in the world who mean the most to me.”
I wanted to understand him. I tried to understand the reasons behind people’s actions because I wanted to believe the best in everyone. But all I knew was that I loved him enough to risk it all—to risk our history—for something more, and the fact that he wasn’t willing told me he couldn’t possibly feel the way I felt about him. I didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone I loved more than he’d ever love me.
“Go home, Adam,” I replied softly. “We’re done.”
His eyes widened in shock. “Ellie—”
“I’ll pretend for Braden. When we’re all together, I’ll pretend for Braden that nothing has changed between you and me.” I held his gaze, attempting to be strong as I ended us. “But whatever this is, it’s over. Everything. Don’t call me, don’t visit. Just don’t. I don’t want you near me when you don’t have to be. It hurts too much, and if you care about me even just a little bit, you’ll stay away from me.”
I didn’t let him reply. I couldn’t. I turned and strode down the hall into my bedroom, closed the door behind me, and leaned up against it as I tried to catch my breath.
There was silence in the hallway for what seemed like forever, and then finally I heard the front door open and close quietly.
The burn in my throat burst out into sobs, and I slid down the door trying to catch my breath through the pain . . .
Chapter 8
“Most miserable bloody weeks of my life after that.” Adam turned the pages, scanning my sparse entries after that night.
I slid my hand around the nape of his neck and gave it a squeeze. “Me, too, honey.”
He lifted my hand from his neck and brought it around to give my knuckles an absentminded kiss. “The night at Jenna and Ed’s wedding was fucking torture.”
I agreed with him completely. We’d both taken dates. I went with Nicholas, just to be particularly annoying, and Adam had taken some random girl with him. Although I’d flitted around the wedding, acting my cheery self and steadfastly refusing to look Adam’s way, it was one of the most painful experiences of my life.
Adam threaded my fingers through his and rested our hands on his lap. “Here it is.” He held the diary up.
“What?” I frowned, trying to read my writing.
“I’m fast-forwarding to my wake-up call.”
Monday, December 17th
I’m writing this as quickly as I can because I can see Adam is about to rip the pen from my hand and use whatever means at his disposal to bring my attention back to him. Since I like the means he will use, I need to get this down. It’s been an utterly exhausting weekend but today I woke up feeling stronger than I have in a while. This morning I woke up to something beautiful, and I swear after the last week I’ve had, I didn’t think that was possible . . .
Focusing on a crack in my ceiling I attempted to push the fear and desperation back. There was this buried part of me that kept trying to push up and grip my chest from the inside out to pull me to it to whisper desolately, “I’m not ready to die.”
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop . . .
I couldn’t think like that.
But it
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