Chapter 28
Ben, May 22
“This is wrong.” Liz’s beautiful face is scrunched into my shoulder so I’m not sure I hear her correctly. I pull back a little, reluctantly.
“What?”
“This is wrong.”
Yeah, that’s what I thought she said.
She pulls away, frantically wiping at her tear-stained face. “I have a boyfriend.” She shoots me an accusatory glance. “Remember?”
No. I don’t remember. I don’t know if you called him. How the hell could I know that?
Then it lands. The word I didn’t hear before, didn’t want to hear, doesn’t forgive me now. “Boyfriend.”
The one I practically shoved her into calling. The one I told myself would be better for her. The one I pretended to want for her — until I saw her tonight.
“I can’t be here with you,” she continues.
For a second, I just stare at her, my chest aching. I hadn’t come here to steal her away. I hadn’t come here to ruin anything. I’d only come because seeing her cry gutted me. Because I still love her and couldn’t let her sit in the dark, broken. And now, somehow, that’s not enough.
“Okay.” The word scrapes out of me quieter than I mean it to, ragged. My hands go up in front of me, surrender. But inside, everything is splintering.
“Can you please shut the door so I can go home?” She points to the driver’s side, the one I’m kneeling in front of.
For a moment, I can’t even move. My knees feel rooted to the asphalt, like the ground itself is holding me there in humiliation. I force myself to stand, because what else can I do?
“Yes,” I manage, though my throat burns with the effort.
She backs out of the spot. Stupidly, I almost wave. I actually have to clench my fist against my side to stop myself, because waving feels pathetic, desperate, and that’s the last thing I want her to see. Still, as her taillights disappear into the night, I feel like I’ve just lost her all over again.