Chapter 17
seventeen
I turned, facing Preston. “I can see how busy you are.” The words fired from my mouth like I’d discharged a gun, the room filling with invisible gunpowder that hung in the air. A smoky bitterness touched my tongue.
“Ev, it’s not what it looks like,” Preston quickly defended, his sea-glass-colored eyes shading with guilt despite what he said.
My stomach twisted in betrayal. My chest burned with fury. “It looks a hella lot like you’re sleeping with someone else.” I snorted. “Don’t even try to explain yourself out of this one, Preston. I already knew. You’ve been cheating on me for months. Fuck, probably years, and you ”—I poked him in the bare chest.—”had the audacity to make me feel guilty!” I stabbed my finger into him again. “Screw you.”
A wave of what I took as relief dropped over his features, the tightness in his shoulders lowering. “Who told you?”
I swallowed a bramble of temper. “That’s what you care about? Who ratted you out?” I shook my head. “For your information, I uncovered your lies. I’m sure you thought I was too messed up to notice. The truth was, I was too messed up to care.”
Preston reached for a clean shirt from the closet regardless there was one tossed on the floor at my feet. The one he’d probably been wearing before the bimbo in his bed took it off him. “Calm down. There’s no need to make a scene,” he had the nerve to say to me, pulling the wrinkle-free material over his head.
Calm down.
Calm down?
That was the very worst thing he could toss at me. Preston could go to the devil. I never wanted to hear that everything would be okay, calm down, or that time would heal my pain. All those little things people say to try and comfort someone because in my experience, they weren’t true.
Things weren’t okay. I wanted to feel my emotions. How else could I heal? And time…well, I was still waiting to see if the phrase was bullshit. Time hadn’t healed me yet.
I was still broken in so many ways.
Perhaps too broken for someone who demanded perfection—someone like Preston. Was that why I was drawn to Tristan? Because we recognized the defects in each other?
My face hardened. “If there was ever a time to cause a scene, this is it. I came here to tell you it’s over. Don’t call me. Don’t show up at my dorm. Don’t apologize.”
He blinked. The flare of irritation in his eyes lingered, but something else moved into his expression. Fear? “For how long?”
“I don’t know. Until I can look at you and not think about you with her,” I replied roughly, my eyes darting to the other side of the room. I didn’t want to see her ever again, and yet, I couldn’t stop my gaze from straying.
She had a pretty face and was the opposite of me in every way physically. My counterpart. What did that say about Preston? Had he been looking for someone different than me? I didn’t know why that surprised me, but it did. I’d thought she would be similar to me. Blonde hair. Lighter eyes. Beachy tan.
The girl in the bed flinched, her fingers clutching the bed sheet to her ample chest. She had stayed motionless and silent until this point as if she were afraid to draw attention. “I should go,” she muttered and started to inch to the edge of the bed. Strands of her long chestnut hair fell over her shoulders.
Oddly, I didn’t have any resentment toward her. Not like I should. It was all reserved for Preston. “No, stay. I’m the one who’s leaving. I have nothing left to—” I caught a glance at the other girl as she reached for her clothes, the sheet slipping and exposing the side of her stomach. From what I could tell, she looked fit, which didn’t explain why she had a bump protruding from her belly.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
She’s pregnant.
A new layer of betrayal and anger ached in my chest.
I gasped.
My eyes whirled to Preston. “You knocked her up? Are you kidding me?” I didn’t know a lot about carrying a baby, but if I had to guess, she was in her second trimester, which meant she’d gotten pregnant when Preston and I were still together.
“Fuck.” The curse breezed through Preston’s lips, his frown deepening.
This time I turned to the girl for answers. “Is it his?”
She chewed on the corner of her lip before her chin lifted and she nodded, meeting my gaze head-on. This girl had fire under her quiet demeanor.
So did I. “Did you know about me before you slept with my boyfriend?” My fingernails bruised the inside of my hands.
She didn’t look away. “And if I did? Would it make a difference?”
My eyes stung. “No.” The choice Preston made to cheat on me regardless still existed.
Fingers weaved through mine, tugging me toward the door. My head buzzed, and it wasn’t until I stood in the hall that I glanced at our joined hands, my eyes lifting to Preston’s. I scowled, yanking my arm away from him and disentangling our fingers. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“You’re acting like a child,” he huffed, raking a hand through his usually styled hair. Tonight, it was evidently messy.
“And you’re acting like an asshole. Did you honestly believe I would stay with you after I found out you got another girl pregnant?” I scoffed without an ounce of sympathy or concern for who might overhear. “What was your plan, Preston?”
He leaned against the wall, taking a moment before he responded. “I don’t know. I hadn’t figured it out yet. Everything got so messed up when you told me you wanted a break. I still don’t understand what happened. I thought we were happy. We were supposed to get married. And then you suddenly didn’t want me anymore.”
“That’s what you’re hung up on? What you’re worried about? You’re having a fucking baby. I’m the last person you should be thinking about. Besides, did you ever stop and think for one second that it had nothing to do with you? That it was about me and what I needed?”
His jaw flexed. “You used to talk to me. You used to tell me what was going on.”
My voice wobbled, on the verge of breaking. “And you used to be my friend. Someone I thought I could count on. I guess we were both wrong.”
He pushed off the wall, moving toward me. “This doesn’t have to change things between us. I’m not over you, Ev. I want you back. I love you.”
I retreated, holding a hand up to ward him off before he tried to reach for me. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? How can you sit here and tell me you’re not over me when you have a pregnant girl in your bed? Do you have any idea how screwed up that is?”
Like he didn’t know what to do with his hands now that he wasn’t stopping me from leaving, he let them fall to his sides. “It doesn’t change that I haven’t stopped loving you. Yes, I made mistakes, but this past year hasn’t just been hard on you. It was difficult for me too.”
“So, you’re saying it was my fault you cheated. Classic Preston,” I sneered, my lip curling in disgust. “Blaming everyone else.”
“You’re twisting everything I say,” he spat, frustrating edging into his features.
“Or you’re digging yourself deeper into a grave you shoveled.”
Preston started to pace. “For fuck’s sake, Everly.”
Oh, I hated it when he called me by my given name. “You don’t get to be upset. I claim that right fully. I’m the victim.”
“You’re always the victim,” he muttered offhandedly, but it felt like a slap in the face.
I swore I could feel the invisible sting of his hand on my cheek. I recoiled and instantly regretted the small flicker of emotion, not wanting Preston to see he had any ability to hurt me. But he noticed. “Nice,” I retorted sharply. “I said everything I came to say.”
He darted in front of me, eyes growing wild. “Jesus, just wait, will you? I know I’m bumbling this entire situation. You took me by surprise.”
“I bet I did. Do your parents know?” I couldn’t help but think about Blaine and Anna. How would they handle their son’s indiscretions? There was no way he could hide his cheating once they discovered how far this other girl’s pregnancy was.
Preston shook his head, panic flicking into his troubled features. “No one knows. And I want it to stay that way. You can’t tell anyone.” An air of desperation the youngest Malone wasn’t known for laced his tone.
I didn’t get it. Why the big secret? If he and I weren’t together anymore, why not expose the truth? Was he ashamed? I couldn’t imagine despite his choices that his parents would be anything but supportive. “You can’t hide a baby forever.”
“I couldn’t tell you. Not after everything you went through. You needed me.” His justification was comical.
“I had.” A sarcastic laugh bubbled out of me. “But you weren’t there, Preston. Not really. Not when it mattered. Instead, you ran away from me. You ran to someone else.” But so had I.
I’d gone to Tristan.
Or maybe it had been Tristan who’d found me.
Regardless, it had been Tristan who’d been there through the really dark days. Not his brother. Not my boyfriend. Not the guy who claimed to love me.
I hadn’t wanted to see who Preston truly was before. The selfishness. The arrogance. The charm masking the manipulator.
But now, I couldn’t unsee him. Or how wrong he was for me.
His brows knitted. “You didn’t make it easy.”
I choked, unable to believe what I was hearing. “You really are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I wasted so many years on you. If it wasn’t clear before, let me make it crystal fucking clear now. We’re over. Done. Finished. There’s no chance in hell I’ll forgive you or that we’ll get back together. Marriage is out of the question. I don’t even know if I want to be your friend.” I turned away from him, a pivotal moment. This was me turning the page in my life. I was ready to start the next chapter…without Preston as my crutch.
But Preston and I were at different points in our breakup journey. His fingers wrapped around my upper arm. “Ev.” He spoke my name with firmness as if he fully expected me to stop in my tracks.
I would have in the past. Don’t, a voice in my head said.
I didn’t turn around.
“I can’t do this without you.” Preston’s warmth radiated at my back; his hand was still steadily pressed into my skin.
Keep going. He will only try to suck you back in. My chin lifted. “You should have thought about that before you stuck your dick into someone else.” I let the venom, the hurt, and the bitterness seep into my voice, never looking at him.
My feet moved again of their own accord as if they too wanted to get as far from Preston as they could take me.
“Ev,” he called again after me.
I’d reached the end of the hall, and instead of waiting for the elevator and giving Preston the opportunity to catch me, I shoved through the stairwell door. The fact I willingly took the stairs attested to my mental state. I’d rather descend five flights of stairs than face Preston’s cheating ass again.
I said all that was left to say.
He made his choice.
And I made mine.
As I jogged down the stairs, it occurred to me that Preston had never apologized.
Prick.
I made it three flights when my eyes started to blur. Thunder cracked outside like an angry god flung a whip at the building. I swore the stairs underneath me shook. I lost my balance, arms flailing right before I scrambled for the railing. My fingertips slipped over the wooden beam, and then I was falling, sliding down the last few stairs, landing hard on my ass.
I barely had time to catch my breath, to fathom what happened, when pain seared my ankle along with a few other places, but I suspected those would only be bruises. My foot was another story.
“Fuck,” I hissed, sitting on the dusty landing, cradling my boot. I didn’t think it was broken—at least I hoped not, but it hurt like hell.
Tears stung my eyes, the night finally catching up to me, which included all those pesky emotions I’d been suppressing for hours. They bubbled to the surface, and I didn’t have it in me to fight any longer. My forehead dropped to the top of my knee while my other leg remained cradled to the side as my shoulders shook from the sobs.
I didn’t know how long I stayed purging my tears on the stair landing, but with water still distorting my vision, I shoved to my feet, careful to keep my weight off my right foot. Another boom of thunder quaked outside. Once the rumble resided, the rapid tapping of rain hit the side of the building.
Just fucking great.
A rainstorm.
Why wouldn’t it start to downpour when I was having the shittiest night?
It was no easy feat hobbling my ass down the last flight of stairs to the ground level. I clung to the banister, taking the steps one at a time until I finally reached the bottom. When I pushed the exit door open, a lightning bolt lit up the sky, and I limped across the parking lot, my ankle screaming in protest, slowing me down as fat drops of rain spit from the black sky, soaking me to the bone.
I didn’t care.
Not about my clothes. My hair. My pride.
Something about the rain triggered a response buried deep within me, a nightmare I longed to forget. Or perhaps it was the rain combined with the feeling of loss. The circumstances sparked memories of another night. I thought I’d worked through the worst of my mother’s death.
I was wrong.
That numbness I feared and battled to quell spread inside me, moving from my toes and climbing higher and higher and higher. It was like a misty fog cloaked my body and I was trapped inside, looking at the world through a steamy mirror.
I kept walking, well, hobbling, really, through the parking lot. I needed to get to my car. The problem was, I couldn’t remember where I parked. Halting, I turned in a circle, a pathetic attempt to get my bearings. The more I tried to focus on the rows of cars, the fuzzier they became. I felt myself spiraling but couldn’t do anything to stop the whirling rush that made me dizzy. My breath quickened in my chest, burning my lungs.
I couldn’t decide if the world spun or if I was moving in circles.
Every bone in my body wanted to crumble to the ground. My legs weakened, the blacktop coming closer as rain pelted upon me.
The ground would catch me. It had before.
But the ground never came.
I hit a wall instead. Hard. Steady. Immovable. Not a wall. A body. Heat radiated off the sudden form, and it was so damn warm, hot really, against the icy cold running through my veins. It made me want to nuzzle into them without a care about who they were, only the relief they could provide from the chill taking over me. I lifted my gaze—Tristan.
His mouth moved, but his voice didn’t reach my ears.
Ever.
I just stared at him, blinking, unable to believe he was real. My hand wanted to touch him, but I couldn’t make it move.
Ever . His lips formed my name again.
His thick, black lashes were wet, water dripping from them.
Firm yet gentle fingers cradled the sides of my cheeks, keeping my eyes on his face. The pad of his thumb brushed over my chin just under my bottom lip, and I swore I shivered, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d lost control of my body.
His eyes hardened into flecks of piercing granite, and yet, a speck of sympathy sparkled in them. I didn’t want his fucking pity. It struck something inside me, shaking me back to life. “Why are you here?” I demanded, finding my voice.
Tristan studied me. “Because I knew you would need someone.”
“And you thought that someone should be you?” I didn’t want to see either Malone. They were both on my shit list.
His fingers were like an anchor at my hips, keeping me grounded. I hadn’t even noticed his hand falling from my face, but I was too damn aware now. “Given the state you’re in, I don’t think you can complain. Let’s go before you catch a damn cold.”
I wasn’t going anywhere with him. “Get the hell out of my way.”
Nothing about him twitched. Like a fucking statue, he stood in front of me, his expansive hands spread at my hips. “I’m going to be in your way for the rest of the night. Get used to it, Shortcake. Things will go a lot smoother if you do.”
Tristan was giving me a migraine I didn’t need. Tears streamed down my cheeks, washed away by the rain. “Tristan, let me the fuck go.”
“No.”
I tried to escape him, but he wasn’t allowing me to go anywhere. I gave up with a sigh. “Why are you even here? This is what you wanted. What you asked for.”
Rain continued to plummet around us, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. “Not exactly, Shortcake. I never wanted you hurt.”
My chest pained me so much. “You did more than just cause me pain. I hate you. I hate you both.”
He spoke quietly, his stony expression never altering. “Good. You should. Are you done?”
I wanted to stomp my foot on the ground and kick up a puddle of water all over the jackass, but since I couldn’t put pressure on my foot, I’d have to resist. “Absolutely not.”
“You can get in with your dignity intact, or you can go kicking and screaming; either way, you’re getting in my damn car even if I have to lock your pretty ass up into the trunk.”
I gritted my teeth. “You wouldn’t dare.”
An irritating brow lifted. “Try me, Shortcake. You might like it. Hell, I might.”
“Haven’t I been through enough?”
“Precisely why you’re not getting behind the wheel.”
“Did you suddenly sprout a hero complex?” I shot back, straightening my spine so we were nearly nose to nose.
The smile that twisted at the corner of his lips seemed more regretful than threatening. “I’ll never be the hero in the story. We both know I’m the villain.” He snatched my hand, twining our fingers in a firm knot.
“You play the bad guy perfectly, I’ll give you that, Tristan,” I lashed out as he tugged on my arm, my legs having no choice but to move. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten about my ankle until I put the teeniest bit of pressure on it, and a whole new level of throbbing pulsed at my foot. “Ouch,” I hissed, favoring my ankle.
Tristan whirled with narrowed eyes, inspecting me. “Are you hurt?”
“Of course, I’m hurt, you idiot,” I hissed, gripping Tristan’s shoulder for support I needed but didn’t want.
Darkness descended into his features. “What happened? Did my brother?—”
“No,” I swiftly interrupted before he could assume the worst of Preston. Not that the cheating dick didn’t deserve his brother’s wrath because he sure as shit did. “He didn’t touch me. I fell.”
A curse rolled off his tongue right before Tristan dipped, scooping me off my feet and into his arms. I hadn’t been prepared.
My palm flattened on his chest, the other twining around his neck. “Tristan, damn it. Put me down.”
“Not on your life, Shortcake,” he muttered too close to my ear. So close I swore his lips grazed the edges.