Chapter 15
Ipace. Pace and pace and pace. I can see my footsteps being forever eroded into the carpet. My mind is racing. I’m angry and sad and worried and downright exhausted.
I’m so sick of being the bad guy. I’m sick of being the uptight girl. The prude. The man-hater. I’m sick of being hurt.
More pacing.
I wasn’t always like this. There was a time that I would jump at a guy like Noah with his cute smile and his big muscles and his picture-perfect hazel eyes. But that was the old me. The old me was na?ve and sweet and young. She didn’t know any better.
I do.
Walk and turn. Walk and turn. Walk and turn.
I’ve made my mistakes. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve had my heart stomped on because I was innocent enough to believe that a man might actually give a shit about the consequences of his actions. They never do. I know that now.
It still doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.
I really didn’t want him to be the same. I didn’t want this to be, this. I wanted him to be different. I wanted him to scream in my face that I’m wrong, but he didn’t. He left, and somehow I still feel like I’m the one who messed up.
I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t?—
“Hello?” My mom picks up the phone after one ring and I’ve never been so glad to hear her voice.
“Hey, Mom.” My voice wavers.
“Oh, Lucy, what’s wrong, honey?”
“Mom, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be so miserable all the time. I can’t—I?—”
“Lucy, slow down. Tell me what happened.”
I explain everything, from reconnecting with Noah, to sleeping with him, to fighting with him, until he ran out. I tell her the things that I swore I would never say out loud.
“You did the right thing, Luce,” she assures me once I’ve finished. “You’re allowed to have fun with a man without it immediately meaning a relationship. If he got attached, that’s his problem, not yours. You have no reason to feel bad, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”
“I know that. I do. It’s just that...I don’t know. I know I’m supposed to make a decision and stand by it, but I’m worried that I made the wrong one.”
“Lucia,” she scolds gently. “If I taught you one thing, it’s that you trust your gut. If I’d trusted my gut with your father, I wouldn’t still be paying off a divorce lawyer. Believe me. He’s not worth your tears.”
“You’re right, Ma. I know. He’s just a guy. I don’t know why it’s got me so upset.”
“Because you have a good heart, Lucia,” my mom expresses. “It’s one of my favorite things about you, but you can’t let it control you. You didn’t hurt him. He hurt himself. Trust me, boys have fragile, little egos. It doesn’t take much to bruise them.”
My brain knows that my mother is right. There isn’t a single doubt that I shouldn’t feel bad for setting boundaries. But for some reason, my heart doesn’t seem to agree. My heart is dead-set on being consumed by Noah Laurier.