With a handsome smile, David left me alone as I sucked in a steadying breath and smoothed down my dress one last time.
I pressed accept on the call. “Hello?”
My voice was empty and flat like it was most of the time these days, and I didn’t have time to fix on the Della false brightness and strength that Ren was used to hearing from me.
“Della?” His tormented tone slipped into my ear making tears stab my eyes. “Where are you?”
“I’m safe, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I let silence gather between us as I stared at floral wallpaper in some stranger’s house.
“Della?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Tell me where you are. What happened?”
Now, there were two scenarios I could’ve done and knowing the outcome of the one I chose, I should’ve gone for the other one.
I should’ve told him I was fine, and that I’d be home soon. I should’ve kept my secrets just a little longer, hidden my heartbreak for just a little more, but with my insides bruised from another man and that same man actually wanting to spend time with me, I was done playing this part.
I was through pretending and wanted to ensure the canyon that’d formed between us could never be repaired.
And I had the perfect way to do it.
“Della, answer me,” Ren commanded.
So I answered him.
I told him things I should’ve taken to my grave because who wants to hear about another being so vindictive and lost they’d practically do anything for a sliver of happiness.
“I’m at a house party a few blocks from home. I Ubered here in my little black dress with no underwear, and I selected a boy from the dwindling crowd.”
His harsh inhale sounded like thunder in my ear.
“Do you want me to continue?” I breathed, rubbing at the fiery ruin of my heart.
“Yes,” he strangled. “Finish. Tell me.”
“This boy kissed me and took me upstairs, and I told him I was a virgin who was tired of being a child. I asked him to relieve me of it.” Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I confessed, knowing full well I broke his heart as well as mine. “And…he did.”
Ren hung up.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
REN
* * * * * *
2018
IT WASN’T HARD to find her.
Whatever Facebook group she joined, I joined too.
Whatever event she tagged as interested in attending, I clicked the button too.
Thanks to social media, I knew more about Della’s schedule than she thought, and tonight was no different.
I killed my bike outside the house.
Music still filtered from cracked windows with a few shadows of people dancing in the living room. I wanted to stab out my heart that this was the place where Della had come for comfort instead of confiding in me.
I’d failed her so fucking much.
When she’d answered on the third call, I’d been relieved but furious. I’d wanted to tear into her to delete some of the panic in my blood, but that was before I heard her voice. Before the hollow defeat replaced her normally beautiful tone, hinting that tonight…something had happened.
I’d wanted to yell at her for leaving me. I’d wanted to demand her excuses why I’d come home to an empty apartment after meeting a girl I’d met online for the second time.
I’d come home early.
I should never have gone.
It was a mistake.
Every meeting was a mistake.
I’d had a drink with her and let her down gently, my only thought of returning to Della and laughing with her at something stupid on TV or debating the pros and cons about a new camping device.
Each woman I hooked up with was just buying me time, even though I felt it running out. I told myself things between me and Della would go back to the way things were if I got my rampant desire under control. That it wasn’t her I dreamed about but some nasty side effect of not having sex for so long.
I’d done my best to believe my lies. I’d honestly wished they were true as I smiled at faceless women and touched unwanted places.
It didn’t matter that my lust was being controlled, it didn’t stop my dreams becoming more graphic or my days become more difficult the deeper I fell into Della.
I could fuck every female I could find but in the end…no one could cure me but her.
And now, I’d hurt her so much she’d snapped just like I had.
She’d willingly chosen self-harm because it was the only way to leach out some of the pain.
So yes, I wanted to be livid with her. I wanted to strike her, grab her, kiss her with every red-tinted rage, but hearing such desolation from the girl I loved, I couldn’t do it.
All I cared about was her safety, her happiness.
All I needed was to get her home.
I clutched at my hair, digging fingernails into my scalp, doing my best to get myself under control. I didn’t want to think about what she’d told me. I didn’t want to visualise what she’d done. And I daren’t focus on how crippled I was knowing she was no longer a virgin.