“I can be strong for you,” I say. “Don’t be a coward. Don’t let them win.”
Whit doesn’t reply, and I have my answer. He doesn’t want me to be there for him. He wants to go through with this because money is more important to him than I am.
I guess this was just casual for him after all. I gave him my heart, and he destroyed it. Knowingly.
“I can’t do this,” I say and walk out of the room.
Whit scrambles out of bed and chases me, grabbing onto my arm.
“Please stay, Caleb,” he chokes out, his voice rough and broken.
“And what, Whit? Watch you get married to a fucking woman in a few months. Fuck that.”
I wrench my arm from his grip and grab the duffle bag he bought me. I don’t even want it anymore. Ripping it open, I grab a pair of pants, tug them on, and then slip on my shoes. I pull my jacket over my naked torso and pull my ballcap low over my forehead.
“I’m staying somewhere else tonight.”
Whit exhales shakily, his face wet, those tears dripping onto his lips. The lips I’d just kissed moments before.
“Please don’t go,” he whispers, and I can’t help it. I reach out and cup his face. God, my heart hurts. I can’t fuckingbreathe.
“Will you be safe if I leave?” Because even though I’m pissed, betrayed, and my entire life is falling apart around me, I don’t want him harming himself.
He chokes on a sob and leans into my palm. His tears fall onto my fingers, burning me.
“Will you. Be safe?” I ask, my voice cold. Colder than it should be. I never want to speak to Whit like this again. I should be making him laugh. Smile. Not cry.
Fuck him for making me do this.
Whit nods, and then my hand is gone, and I’m wrenching the door open.
“Wait,” he calls out, and I pause, looking over my shoulder. “Does this…” he inhales shakily, “…does this mean we’re over?”
God, my crushed heart. I rub my eyes.
“Yeah, man. We’re through.”
And then I turn my back on him and walk away.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
WHIT
If I thought the brutal beatings by my parents were terrible, the days I spent locked away, starved, miserable. If I thought the excruciating pain I felt after slicing my wrists open was painful, nothing compares to how I feel now.
I’m a shell of a person, a ghost moving from one end of my apartment to the other. Nothing has any meaning. Nothing matters. Life, as I know it, isn’t worth living.
I miss him.
Miss him.
Two days ago, Mal showed up, his eyes cold and wary. He looked at me like I was scum, like I wasn't fit to even look in Caleb's direction. Then he shook his head and silently packed Caleb’s things in boxes and carried them away. He took him away. Stole him from me.
In a moment of clarity, I took one of Caleb’s shirts and tucked it beneath my pillow so I could breathe him in at night.
I found it only makes it worse.
My days are spent just sitting, staring at the wall, not showering, not eating, and wasting away. Classes are forgotten, emails unanswered. All I can do is replay every wrong decision I ever made since meeting Caleb. Every. Single. One.