Pushing the Limits(55)

 

I'm good at shutting people out as well.

But I had hoped we were passed that by now. She's made me want to open  up to her entirely, even if it hurt to admit that pain aloud.

Monday, she sends me a weird text saying that she won't be able to come  over after work, and I feel it in my gut that something's wrong. But  instead of interrogating her, I give her the space she needs.

Tuesday comes and goes, Wednesday the same.

By Wednesday night, I can't take it anymore. I go to her apartment and  knock on her door, knowing she won't be expecting me but needing to  speak to her.

She hardly acts affected by me standing in her doorway. I want to grab  her, tangle my hands in her hair, and kiss her. But she takes a step  back and allows me to step inside.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's all you have to say for yourself? What the hell is going on, Aspen?"

"I've been busy."

"So that means you can't return a text?" I challenge, her eyes lowering  to her feet as she shrugs. "Jesus, Aspen." I brush a frustrated hand  through my hair and start pacing.

"Sorry."

"What's going on? Are you avoiding me because you don't want this? Or is  something else going on that I don't know about? Is it about your  sister? Or mom? Aspen, please. Talk to me."

She finally looks up, and I see the pain in her eyes. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I'm sorry, Morgan. I never meant to hurt you."

"Really?" I nearly choke out in a mock laugh. "That's ironic."

"I'm going through a lot right now and need to get my shit together  before I can fully be with someone." Her voice is shaky, unconfident,  but I don't call her on it.

"I opened up to you, Aspen. About everything. I trusted you. Apparently, it was only one-sided."

"I told you a lot more than I tell anyone. It's not easy for me … " she  defends, and I see the truth in her eyes. "But you're right, it is a  good thing. It just proves this isn't meant to work."

And just like that, the piece of my heart that I still had left shatters.

"I can't believe you're fucking doing this." I brush a hand through my  hair, squeezing and pulling in frustration. "What happened? What's  happened from the last few days of everything being great to … this?"

"Nothing," she reassures me. "I-I just can't stop pretending anymore."

"Pretending? Pretending what?"

"I'm not who you think I am. I have a lot more issues inside that I don't feel right burdening anyone with-especially you."

"Wait, what? Whatever it is, we can work through it together. I promise,  Aspen. I'm not scared just because of your past. I want to fight it  with you. Why won't you let me?"

She swallows, looking up at the ceiling, fighting the tears from falling  down. I see the struggle in her body language, making me desperate to  reach out and touch her.

She bows her head and curses before looking at me, her eyes red. "My  sister … " she begins, wrapping a hand around her throat and stumbling.  "Her name was Ariel Rose."

I freeze, letting her words sink in. "Wait, what?"

"I told you. I'm not who you think I am." Tears are freely falling down  her cheeks now, her voice trembling as she continues. "I've been lying,  pretending to be someone I'm not. And I can't do it anymore. I do care  about you and wanted to spare your feelings."

I choke out a pathetic laugh, cursing and pacing. "Too fucking late." I  shake my head and walk out the door, ignoring the burning pain in my  chest and resisting the urge to run back to her the second I leave.





I speed the whole way home, ignoring every aching desire to turn around and call her on her bullshit.

She's Ariel Rose?

How can that fucking be?

She's told me on numerous occasions that her pieces are personal, she doesn't like sharing them, or-

Of fucking course.

Ariel Rose is her freedom to be whoever she wants without any consequences of people putting a face to a name.

But why didn't she tell me? I could see her not wanting to tell me right  away, but what about once we were together? We were together. All the  time. Before class, after class, and sometimes in between. Every day we  were growing closer and closer, and I thought the feelings were mutual.

Hell, I know they were mutual.

But perhaps her demons were worse than I thought? Or maybe I was just a distraction until she worked through them?

The unanswered questions scream at me, making me question everything I thought I knew about us.         

     



 





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ASPEN



I haven't slept in days. And I'm pretty sure all my tears have dried up  because I can't even get one stupid tear to drop. Or maybe I'm just too  weak to make anymore.

The way his eyes looked at me is forever burned into my brain. Betrayal,  hurt, anger. The moment he left, I sank to my knees and cried. I just  hurt the one person who meant more to me than anything. The one person  who saw me for me-more than what is on the surface.

He saw through me.

But what hurts even more is how he walked out …

But I deserve it.

Every minute of pain since then, I deserve it.

I've skipped his Thursday night class because I just couldn't bear  seeing him. I know it's the coward's way out, but what can I do? My  heart is completely shattered. Seeing him would only bring me over the  edge.

After sulking alone on the couch all Friday night, I grab a bottle of  wine from my fridge that I've had sitting in there for weeks. I decide I  want to read more of Ariel's entries, but if I'm going to go in  self-torture mode, I need some liquid courage.

Walking out of the kitchen, I hear banging on my front door. It's Kendall and she looks like a hot mess.

"Here to join the party?" I hold up the bottle of wine in my hand and give her a sympathetic look.

"Can I please?"

I extend my arm and motion for her to come in, shutting the door behind us. "Self-pity, party of two."

She walks to the kitchen, dragging a chair behind her, and grabs two  wine glasses from the top shelf. "Surprised you even had any glasses  left."

"They were smart and knew to hide up high in the cabinet where I couldn't reach them."

She snorts. "Wine me." She puts her glass out in front of me and waits for me to pour some.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on?" We walk to the living room and sit on opposite ends of the couch.

"No. Are you going to tell me why you've been moping around your apartment all week?"

"No."

We both sit and drink our wine. After two glasses, I turn the TV on and ask what she wants to watch.

"Anything that isn't romance related, romantic comedy, or even has a smidge of kissing."

She doesn't have to continue for me to know what's bothering her. Men.

I click through Netflix and scroll through the thrillers. I finally stop  on Silence of the Lambs and when she doesn't object, I press play.

For the next two hours, I block everything out and stare at the screen,  grabbing another bottle of wine in between. We don't talk. We just sit  in silence and drink.

It's a relief.

"Now that I've gotten you drunk and scared to sleep alone, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

She wrinkles her nose and giggles. Oh yeah, she's a goner.

"I had sex with someone."

"And it was so bad you had to come over here for a wine fest?" I raise a brow.

"No, it was good." Her eyes soften. "Really, really good." Her cheeks redden.

"Then what's the matter?"

She shrugs, lowering her eyes. "I kept thinking about Kellan the whole  time. Comparing and wondering if it was going to be as good, or if I was  going to be good for him, and then his name slipped from my lips."

My eyes widen in an ‘oh, shit' expression. "Did he get mad?"

"No, I don't think he heard me."

"So … ?"

"So I shouldn't be having sex with other men while thinking of my ex. Don't you think that's weird?"

"No." I deadpan.

She chokes out a laugh. "Well, I do. I'm not used to meaningless sex. It was great, but I felt so cheap afterward."

"Yeah, you become numb to that after a while."

"I don't want to be numb, though. I want a relationship."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"How would you know?" she teases, but I don't smile.

I can't.

So I opt for the truth.

"Being in a relationship is scary. Opening yourself up to be vulnerable,  showing your flaws and insecurities. It's terrifying," I admit.

"Yeah." She closes her eyes and leans back against the couch. "Why can't  this shit just be simple? Man meets woman. Woman falls for man. Man and  woman get married and live happily ever after."

"Because you grew up believing Cinderella's fairytale."

She sits up and opens her eyes, gulping the last of her wine. "Is that  too much to ask? A handsome prince being all sweet and kind to his  princess? No cheating, lies, and crushing hearts."         

     



 

"Sounds like a Taylor Swift song." I snort.