Chapter 17
chapter seventeen
I do my fucking due diligence. That’s what I start with.
It was an awkward conversation with Mom, trying to get the information of who carries her mortgage without coming right out and telling her why I need to know. But I get the information. And I find out that the Harding family does indeed own that bank. And then I dig into the resources the Vanderholt’s have. It does look to me like they would have the resources to make Alec’s project fall flat on its face.
Fuck.
I avoid Alec’s phone calls that night. I dodge him in the halls. I retreat into my tiny dorm room and spend the whole night lying in bed staring at the ceiling. William’s words echo through my brain, over and over.
Do Alec and I have any chance at lasting long term? We haven’t talked about the future, really. What comes after graduation? When we both take our paths and find our careers? What happens when he does in fact realize that I’m not exactly high class and he has still been raised as a rich boy his entire life, and is used to acting a certain way when in the spotlight?
Do we really have any shot at this being a forever thing?
How could it not affect him long term, when he learns that his father has tanked his new company because of me? How could he not eventually resent me because of it?
And how could I ever choose Alec and let my mother lose her home?
Finally, around three in the morning, the tears burn my eyes, and free-fall into my pillow.
My eyes are bloodshot and puffy when I go to school in the morning. When I walk through the doors, I find Alec waiting for me with a worried look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, cupping a hand to my face. “You look like you’ve been up all night.”
“I have been,” I admit, fighting back tears at his gentle touch. But I lean into it, telling myself to relish every last touch, knowing I’m about to lose them forever. “Can I come over tonight? We need to talk.”
Alec freezes at those four words. Nothing good has ever happened in a relationship with those four words spoken. “What’s going on?” he demands, his face losing its color.
I shake my head. I can’t do this right now. I won’t do this right now, in public. “I’ll see you tonight.”
And Alec looks white as a ghost as I turn and walk away to my first class.
The burnished gold of the late afternoon sun glints off the sleek, modern facade of Alec's apartment building as I push through the door. I ride the elevator to the fifth floor with my heart hammering a frantic beat against my ribs. The scent of polished wood and expensive cleaner that seems to permeate every inch of the place does nothing to calm my nerves. As the doors slide open, I take a deep breath, attempting to steel myself for what's to come.
Each step to his door feels heavier than the last, my sneakers silent on the plush carpet. When I finally reach his apartment, I raise my hand to knock but pause, my knuckles hovering inches from the dark wood. I can't help thinking about how this is going to be the last time I stand here. Some of my very best memories were created in this apartment. I discovered so much about myself within these walls. I found someone who became my other half here in the space.
With a shaky exhale, I rap sharply on the door, trying not to let my hand tremble.
"Hey," is all I manage when he swings the door open. His blond hair is tousled, like he's run his hands through it a hundred times today, and his blue eyes scan my face with an intensity that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
"Fuck, Salem,” he says, his words laced with anxiety. “Do you know what you’ve done to my head this whole day?”
He steps aside to let me in, and I cross the threshold into the familiar space, feeling like I'm walking the plank.
"We need to talk,” I say, fighting the panic I feel that I’m pushing past William’s twenty-four hour deadline. My words are laced with an edge, betraying the storm of emotions churning inside me. I don't meet his eyes as I pass by him into the living room, hyper-aware of the way the late daylight stretches his shadow across the floor.
"Salem," he simply says, my name a warning on his lips. I hate that I'm about to shatter whatever fragile peace we've found with each other. But as I look at him, I know I have to do this. For him. And especially my mom.
"Look, Alec..." I start, forcing myself to face him. My mouth is dry, and it takes all my willpower not to let my voice waver. "This... us... It's got to stop."
His eyebrows furrow, and I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. "What the hell are you talking about, Salem?"
I shake my head, fighting the urge to back down. "We're a mess, Alec." My heart aches with the admission, but I shove the pain aside. I have to do this. For both our sakes. “The way we fight. The shit we say to each other. The hiding. Victoria’s insane jealousy and exposure. Half our friends won’t talk to us anymore.”
"You’re freaking me the fuck out here," Alec butts in, running a hand through his blond hair, a gesture of unease beneath his usually unflappable exterior. "What's really going on?"
My fingers rub together, seeking warmth against the chill that has nothing to do with the temperature of his immaculately kept apartment. His gaze is heavy on me, thick with unspoken questions and a heaping of dread.
"Look," my voice quivers slightly before I rein it back in, "I've been doing some thinking..."
"Thinking?" The word hangs between us, wrapped in a skepticism that makes my stomach twist. But I push through, inching closer, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne, a reminder of too many nights spent tangled in his sheets when we should have been worlds apart.
"Yeah, thinking. About us." My throat tightens around the words. "We can't keep doing this, Alec. We have to end this."
He blinks, once, twice, as if my words are a foreign language he's struggling to translate. Then his features contort, disbelief morphing into something sharper, more wounded. "Break up? Are you shitting me right now? Me and you are perfect."
"Believe me, I wish I was." My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat an echo of the pain I'm inflicting. "But it's for the best."
"Best for who, exactly?" His voice cracks like ice, cold and brittle. "Because this sure as hell doesn't feel like what I want."
I swallow hard, facing the storm brewing in those eyes that I've gotten lost in more times than I care to admit. "It's not always about what we want, Alec. It's about what's right."
"Right?" He scoffs, taking a step forward, closing the gap I'd put between us. "Since when did you get to decide what's right for both of us?"
"Since our relationship started feeling like a ticking time bomb, Alec!" My outburst reverberates off the walls, and for a moment, I'm breathless, caught in the wake of my own words. Silence claws at the room, and I brace myself for his rebuttal, for the arguments I know will spill from his lips.
But they don't come, not yet. Instead, there's just the sound of our breathing, ragged and out of sync, a testament to the chasm that's opened up between us.
I’m dying to reach out, to touch him, to ground myself back into the reality we worked so hard for. But I can’t. I have to sell this. "Please just listen," I plead, my voice brittle as thin ice. The words come tumbling out in a rush, each one laced with the agony of a decision made against the grain of desire. "It's not easy for me either, but... we're a mess, you know it. I'm grateful, so damn grateful for everything. But this—" I gesture between us, "—it's too complicated."
"Complicated?" His word slices through the air, sharp and disbelieving. And suddenly his eyes go red as tears pool in his eyes. "What the fuck does that even mean, Salem? We were fine, more than fine, until you decided to drop this bombshell. Since when have you ever backed down from something challenging?"
His anger is a living thing, crackling between us like a downed power line. I flinch inwardly but stand my ground. "Fine?" I scoff, the sound bitter even to my own ears. "Look at us, Alec. It's been one challenge after another. And it's not just about us. There are consequences, expectations..."
Alec’s face suddenly freezes. His eyes slide over to mine. “What do you mean, Salem?”
And I know I’ve fucked up. I shouldn’t have said that last bit.
“You think my being with you hasn’t had consequences?” I say coldly, scrambling to cover my mistake up. “I had the perfect internship. But because of the spotlight we’ve been in, I don’t think I’ll get it. And there’s so many more ramifications to us being together. You know that, Alec.”
"Fuck ramifications!" He explodes, the words erupting from him with the force of a thunderclap. His hands ball into fists at his sides. "I don’t believe a damn word you just said. Why are you doing this? Why now? Is there someone else?"
"Someone else?" My laugh is a hollow echo, devoid of any real humor. "That's ridiculous and you know it."
"Then give me a straight answer, Salem! Why are you pushing me away?" His voice booms through the space, frustration boiling over.
"Because I have to," I whisper, the truth of it clawing up my throat. "We can't ignore the world outside this apartment, Alec. It's suffocating, and I can't breathe."
"Can't breathe?" His tone softens, just a fraction, but it's enough to make my resolve waver. "Salem, talk to me. Really talk to me. We can figure this out together."
"Can we?" My question hangs there, heavy and loaded. But deep down, I know the answer is buried under layers of our differences, hidden beneath the surface of whispered arguments and stolen moments.
"Damn it, yes!" He steps toward me, but I sidestep, putting distance between us again. "Don't walk away from me, from us, without giving it a real shot."
"Maybe walking away is the real shot, Alec." It's a low blow, and I see it land, see the hurt flash across his face before he can mask it with irritation. "Maybe it's the only way to save what little we haven't already torn apart."
"Save?" He shakes his head, disbelief etched into every feature. "You're not saving anything by running."
"Who says I'm running?" I counter, but even as the words leave my lips, I know there's truth in his accusation. Maybe part of me is sprinting as fast as I can from whatever we might have become. "I'm just trying to be realistic."
"Realistic," he echoes, his laugh devoid of any real amusement. "Since when did you start hiding behind that excuse?"
"I'm not hiding," I insist, but my voice lacks conviction.
"Could've fooled me," he mutters, his gaze never leaving mine, as if he's trying to decipher the codes written into my soul. "Could've fucking fooled me, Salem."
My fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails biting crescents into my palms. It's a feeble attempt to keep the tears from spilling over, my whole body taut with the effort of holding back.
"I should've known better," I choke out, my voice barely more than a whisper. The words taste like ash, heavy with untruth. "We... we're just... Look at us, Alec. We're always at each other's throats."
There's a beat where only our breathing fills the space—a harsh sound in an air too thick with unspoken things. Things I can't let myself say.
"The fact that you don’t back down and I don’t bow out is what makes us work." His voice is dangerously low, a simmering pot ready to boil over. He takes a deliberate step closer, his height and presence encroaching on the little empty space left between us. "That's bullshit, Salem, and you know it."
I flinch, the lie hanging heavy between us. But I can't tell him the truth; I can't expose the soft underbelly of my fear.
"Fuck, Salem..." His voice breaks, and he takes another step closer, his eyes never leaving mine, searching. "Just... give me the truth. Please."
I pivot on my heel, a storm of hurt threatening to spill from my eyes. "I can't do this anymore," I murmur. "There's nothing more to say."
"Nothing more—" His voice cracks, laced with disbelief.
The room is a vacuum, each second stretching, filled only with the sound of our breaths. My fingers brush the cold metal of the door handle, the chill seeping into my bones, mirroring the hollow feeling in my chest.
"Goodbye, Alec." The word goodbye feels foreign, as if my mouth isn't made to form such a final, heavy thing. But it’s all I have left to offer.
"Wait, Salem—" He starts, but the silence swallows the rest of his plea.
With a deep breath that doesn't quite steady me, I pull open the door. The click of the latch is a gunshot in the quiet room, loud and deadly.
A single tear slips from my eyes as I step through the door. I pull it shut behind me as another follows.
I take quick steps down the hall as a sob escapes my lips. Another one shoots pain through my chest, and I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to hold myself together.
I hear the sound of a door opening behind me as I dart down the hall and another sob rips through me. But no footsteps follow behind as I turn the corner and crush the button to call the elevator. Mercifully, it slides open immediately.
Tears blur the sterile numbers lighting up above the elevator doors. They slide hot and fast down my cheeks, and I let them fall. I feel like I’m dying. Like I’m ripping myself in two.
And as I see myself in the reflection of the doors, I completely fall apart.