Chapter 20 Jenny
JENNY
“Well fucking played,” I tell him, acid on my tongue as my heart incinerates itself.
My hands shake violently as I yank my shirt over my head. It’s backwards, but I’m too worked up to fix it. I just want to get out of here before I break down.
Lucas has lost any right he ever had to see me at my weakest.
I feel filthy, used and tossed aside like a ratty old cloth, with about as much care. And I let him. I ignored every rational thought in my brain and walked straight into this, knowing exactly what would happen.
“Jenny, just wait a second—”
“You’re a piece of shit,” I bite out as I storm toward the door. My eyes are burning, and I don’t want to see his stupid face ever again. Still, I can’t stop myself from freezing at the door, part of me desperate for him to stop me. “I loved you back then.”
The words drop like stone to the floor between my feet, filling the quiet with all the agony that comes out with them.
Lucas doesn’t say anything, and a broken scoff tears from my throat.
I don’t know why I bothered saying it. He knew it, even if I never said it when we were younger.
It doesn’t change anything. Neither does the fact that—
“I could have loved you again.” Every syllable slices my throat from the inside out, and I choke on the silence that sits heavily in the air. “Your fucking loss.”
It’s not. I’m the one who just lost everything, and he’s the one who will walk away and be fine.
Just like last time.
The slam of the trailer door behind me echoes like a gunshot over the stillness of the ranch, and I take off running toward the house. I don’t give a shit if someone sees me, if someone hears everything. How could that matter when Lucas doesn’t stop me, doesn’t chase after me?
I can’t care less if Mary or Dad hear when I burst back into the house. It’s their fucking fault he’s here in the first place. They should have shipped his ass right back to Utah as soon as the funeral ended.
But no, they had to feel bad for the most callous, cruel bastard I’ve ever been unlucky enough to meet.
And fall for.
Twice.
God, how could I be so stupid?
I dash to my room in a haze of tears and heartbreak, the world spinning too fast as I stumble through the door.
My breath comes in unsteady bursts, and I slump back against the door, trying to get the pounding of my pulse down to something reasonable.
It’s stubborn, throbbing so hard I can see it in the corners of my eyes, my vision tunneling as panic overtakes me.
I slide down to the floor, every inch of me trembling, and tuck my head between my knees.
In, hold, out. Six seconds for each. Or is it three?
Fuck, I can’t think enough to even breathe properly.
My skin is too tight, crushing me smaller and smaller, and I can’t tell if the room is frigid or if I’m about to start sweating.
The only thing I can be sure of is that I’m about two seconds from throwing up.
I know I won’t, though.
I didn’t last time.
And this is just like last time, isn’t it?
I got my hopes up, planned for the possibility of a future, and before I could even talk things through with Lucas, he ripped it out from under me.
I would have done anything back then, would’ve scrapped my plans for Tallahassee before I even sent my application in, would’ve found a way to balance work and school in Utah.
All he had to do was ask me—fuck, all he had to do was tell me sooner.
But no, all I got was half a week’s notice and a stilted goodbye.
It had been a hell of a kick in the ass back then, and it’s even worse this time.
Why did I think that he’d take things seriously now when he dropped me so easily all those years ago?
He hasn’t changed in the slightest. He’s still the same impulsive, selfish, arrogant asshole who ripped me to shreds when we graduated.
And I’m just as much of an idiot as I was back then.
I don’t even know when he’s leaving this time. Just a vague timeline of when he nails down a start date. That could be tomorrow, or a month from now.
Will I wake up one day to him already having left?
Will he move out and move on like last time?
Will he forget about me for good?
“Fuck.”
I choke on the word as it forces its way out, my entire body spasming with all-encompassing agony.
I swore I’d never let someone put me in this position again, that I wouldn’t let myself get hurt like this.
Maybe it’s better that it was Lucas who did it both times—at least I know it’s him that has a problem and not me.
At least I can pretend to believe that.
It’s not like I’ll ever let anyone close enough to find out. Never again.
I made that decision last time, swore that I’d never give anyone a chance.
It didn’t matter if I was missing out on potential happiness, because I knew that I was saving myself from heartbreak.
I’d rather be jealous of the people around me for finding the right one than collapse against my bedroom wall in anguish.
And look where I am.
God, I’m so fucking stupid. He didn’t even pretend to want more than sex, never said that we were going to get back together. Nothing he said during sex counts, no matter how desperate I was to believe that he meant it when he said I was his.
Fucking pathetic.
All it takes is a pretty face and a few sweet words while I’m getting my guts rearranged, and I fall for it all.
I should have listened to Elias right from the start. He knew from the second I told him Lucas was back that I’d wind up falling for the bastard again. But no, I insisted I had it under control, that I had a hold on my heart.
I’ve never had a hold on my heart.
It’s been in Lucas’s hands this whole fucking time.
And now he’s tossing it to the ground, just as careless as he’s always been.
I have no one to blame but myself. I let him do this, gave him everything without putting a single safety measure in place for myself. Lucas is the same as always, but I decided to delude myself into thinking he’d changed.
Like he ever would.
Maybe for himself, but not for me. Never for me.
I don’t want to do this all again. I can’t do this all again.
If I let myself fall apart, I won’t ever be able to pick back up the pieces.
Last time was different—I was angry, hurt, wanted to lash out at everyone around me.
I closed myself off entirely. I didn’t let family or friends get anywhere near my heart for years, didn’t give anyone who tried to flirt with me the time of day. I was fine back then.
This time I’m tired.
I’m hollow and exhausted and disgusted with myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m furious, but I can’t get over the hurdle of blame. I did this to myself. I trusted my heart even when I knew I shouldn’t, and look where it got me.
Alone, crying on my bedroom floor like a teenager.
Left behind for fucking football. God, I’ve never hated a sport more.
I laugh bitterly, thunking my head back against the door as tears stream down my face. This is what I get, right? I had plans, I had rules, I had goals. And I ignored them all the second Lucas pinned me in place with those baby blues.
Never again.
Not for anyone.
I’ll build up my walls stronger and taller than ever before, close myself off to everyone who hasn’t proven themselves already. And if they fuck up, they’re out. I’m not giving second chances anymore.
Even if I wind up completely alone, at least I’ll know I did what I had to and kept myself safe.
I can do it all alone if I have to.
Another burst of tears floods down my cheeks at the thought, but I ignore it. It doesn’t matter. I’m strong enough that I can live through this.
I’m strong enough to do it on my own.
The pain will fade over time.
I’ll be fine.
I’ll be fine.