The Boy I Hate(83)

He sat down a moment later, an element of confusion causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. She swallowed, seeing all over again the twelve-year-old boy who had opened the door for her every day of sixth grade. But now his face was pale where normally golden, his eyes lifeless where normally smiling. She took his hands between hers and closed her eyes.

“Steven—” She choked. Because she knew she was about to hurt him. She knew she was about to hurt him so much.

He got down to his knees in front of her, causing her stomach to clench and her eyes to open. “What is it, Sam? What happened?”

She shook her head, her lashes heavy with tears. “I broke up with you, Steven. I broke up with you three days ago.”

“I don’t understand. Sam—”

“I sent you a text. I thought you knew. But I dropped my phone in the water, and the message must have not gone through. I thought—”

He pulled in a breath, and licked his lips as he searched her face. “Because of the job? Is that why?”

“No.” She cut him off, needing to stop any further speculation. “This isn’t working, Steven. It hasn’t been working for a long time.” The truth was heartbreaking, something she should have said years ago, but she’d been too much of a coward. “We’ve been friends for so long, the best of friends…” She expected him to protest, to try to stop her, but he only looked at her, his face pained but no longer confused.

“I know,” he whispered.

She choked on a sob, muffling the sound with her hand. Because in all of her life, she would never have expected this response. In all her dreams, she should have never expected him to understand.

He closed his eyes, visibly snuffing out his own emotion. “Expecting you to follow me in my career was like caging a wild bird.” He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers, as though seeing her for the first time. “I couldn’t bear to let you go, and that was selfish. Keeping you by my side was what I always wanted, but that doesn’t mean it was right.”

Her nose began to burn, but she let the tears come. Because a long time ago, her mother had told her never to apologize for being emotional. To never feel weak because of shed tear, because showing your heart was a sign of strength. For the first time, she wasn’t ashamed of them. For the first time she knew exactly what her mother meant.

A couple of people were standing outside now, gawking at them in a way that made her feel protective. She adjusted her back, blocking their view of Steven, and took his hands. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never broken up with you in such a careless way. I should have—”

But he shook his head, stopping her. “Don’t.”

Tears were flowing from her eyes, and she brushed them away with her fingers. For all his faults, there was so much good in him. He just wasn’t want she needed. “I’ve always loved you; I need you to know that. Just not in the way you wanted me to.”

He sat down beside her again, leaning against her, offering his shoulder for her to cry on. “I think I’ve always known that. I hoped it would be different, but…” His words trailed off, and they both sat in silence for a minute before he continued. “I held on too long, even when I knew we were both going in different directions. My only hope is that it’s not too late to be friends.”

She turned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Of course we can. Always.”

They stayed there, just like that, for a good twenty minutes. With his arm wrapped around her, them both mourning the end of their relationship, before he finally called a Taxi to head back to the airport. Because even though they were not each other’s future, they were each other’s past. A past filled with memories, laughter, and friendship. And that was hard to let go of, for anyone.





29





Chapter Twenty-nine





It was almost evening when Samantha knocked on the door of Renee’s hotel room. A mixture of sorrow, regret, and nausea rolled in her stomach as she glanced down to her phone. She’d been trying to get hold of Tristan all afternoon, to explain what happened, but he still hadn’t answered any of her texts. Hadn’t answered her phone calls, or even his door when she’d gone there earlier. His message was clear: he didn’t want to talk to her, and there was a part of her that didn’t blame him.

The door opened, and Samantha quickly put her phone away as she looked up to her best friend. Renee stood in the doorway, her eyes puffy and swollen, making Samantha’s heart clench even harder. “Is he here?”

Renee only glanced up and down, taking in the tattered shorts Samantha had changed back into after the rehearsal, and turned to head back into the room. “Nope.” But she left the door open, which was the only invitation Samantha needed to walk into the room.