“You came to my office and humiliated me,” I whisper hoarsely.
“I know,” he says softly, pocketing his hands.
“You called me a liar, and you threw up issues I thought were resolved as a reason to destroy me,” I continue, barely able to speak with strain. “You hurt me, and you didn’t even stop to think that I might be innocent. Or that there might be an explanation. I got zero respect or understanding from you. You… You didn’t defend me. I stupidly trusted you to be on my side if anything ever happened. But you weren’t.”
His face falls more. “Bo, I—”
“I bring out the worst in people,” I go on, watching the confusion cross his face. “Bora is the worst to me, but I defend her, Jax. Always. To everyone. My dad is a condescending ass, and I’m no exception to that rule, but I defend him. To everyone. My mother is a selfish woman who loves life on her own. Hell, she usually forgets to call me when she’s near a phone, even though she calls Bora, but I defend her actions. To everyone. Shanna bullies people, but she’s especially vocal with interfering in my life, and I still freaking defend her, Jax. To everyone.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stave off the emotional breakdown that is begging to be set free.
“For once in my life, I felt like the exception, because you didn’t treat me like you treated everyone else. You didn’t mock me, or yell at me, or say mean things that would slice through me the way you do others. I felt special. For the first time in my entire life, I felt special. Now I realize it was all an illusion.”
“Damn it, Bo. It wasn’t an allusion,” he argues, but I wave him off.
“Says the guy who couldn’t even stomach the thought of labeling us,” I remind him.
He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t realize we needed labels, and besides, you asked that early on. Ask me now.”
I elect to ignore that last part, because it’s too late.
“Contrary to what everyone thinks, I’m not a punching bag. Despite the illusion, I’m not a doormat. And in spite of the fact I’m usually a nice person, it doesn’t mean I don’t get pissed. I am pissed. At all of you. At everyone. At everything. I’m done, Jax. I’m just done.”
A choked sob escapes me, and I feel the tears streaming down in heavy, hot rows now. It’s like an onslaught of feelings crash into me, almost shattering me with the force. My chest feels like someone is sitting on it, weighing too much to expand for air.
His eyes water, and he swallows hard as he takes a step toward me, reaching for me, but I jerk back.
“You weren’t supposed to be like them,” I whisper.
Then I turn around and go back to my apartment, kicking my heels off and leaving them in the middle of the sidewalk so that I can run. I don’t give a damn how dramatic it seems.
I feel like my body is being turned inside out, and my chest is heaving for the small, teasing, shallow breaths that are painful to collect.
I bypass the elevator, running up fifteen flights of stairs without slowing down, not even acknowledging the painful burn in my legs, and ignoring the fact it feels like I’m slowly suffocating to death. It’s nothing compared to the suffocating emotions that just keep hitting me harder and harder, breaking free all at once.
When the door slams behind me, Ruby comes scrambling out of the guest bedroom in nothing but a tank top and panties. But one look at me has her startled look dissolving into understanding.
She reduces the distance between us, and we both collapse to the couch as I sob in her arms, wishing I could breathe or just pass out from the pain.
Neither happens.
I stay in limbo where the pain plays carelessly on the crest of unbearable and refuses to go away.
Chapter 45
JAX
“I realize I’ve sent twelve bouquets this week,” I tell the florist. “I still want to send more.”
I hang up, massaging my temples, and try to get the shattered image of Bo out of my head. The sidewalk was a bad place for that conversation.
My eyes move over to my dresser where her high heels rest. Yeah, like a bad Prince Charming watching Cinderella run away, I picked up the shoes she left behind. Why? Fuck if I know. It’s not like she’ll ever again let me get close enough to give them back to her.
She wasn’t mad about what I said. The words weren’t the problem.
She was just destroyed that I had said it. She trusted me. She cared about me. And I let her down just like everyone else does. Treated her with the same careless abandon everyone else has. I destroyed the one and only thing that set me apart from everyone else in her life.
My sister is right; I’m an asshole.