My breath left me, like I’d dropped from a tree and landed on my back. It hurt to breathe, and I hardly knew how to react. What to say. Shame flooded me. I’d opened up to him. Trusted him. “Ok. You don’t do relationships. So all this time, and then last night was—”
“Nothin’. It was nothin’, Gracie.” His sharp bark of laughter made me wince almost as much as the frigid stare of his eyes. “Just a good old fashioned college chase and fuck.”
A mixture of heat and numbness sifted through my skin. I couldn’t feel my lips. Nausea pitted my stomach. I looked at him; at his battered face. “You don’t mean that.” My voice sounded weak, and I hated it.
“I mean every fuckin’ word of it.”
A myriad of emotions clamped around my throat and squeezed. I felt tears, somewhere deep inside my ducts, but they wouldn’t flow. My eyes stayed dry as a bone. I didn’t know what was going on; what had happened. Something epic had happened, but Brax wasn’t telling me. Whatever it was, it’d won. Had beaten him.
I stepped closer to him, and he didn’t move. I looked up, into those ghostly eyes, watched the rain drip down his soakened curls and trail down his face, and saw nothing but bitter cold as he stared back. Yet anger—raw and primal—rolled off of him in waves, a contradiction to his hurtful words. Either way, he’d made a decision. And I wasn’t about to beg. For anything or anyone. I steadied my breath, tried to keep from showing him how my heart had just been torn in half. I managed to hold my composure, and forced my eyes to remain locked onto his. I studied him for a moment, making sure he saw me, too. Something flashed in his eyes. Regret? I guess I’d never know.
“I’ll leave your bag outside.” With one, long final stare, I turned and started across the lawn. I didn’t look back to see if he followed; I couldn’t. I’d shown weakness once in my life. To hell with that. I’d never show it again.
By the time I made it back to Oliver Hall, I jogged up to the entrance, slid my key card and hurried inside. I took the steps two at a time, making my lungs burn just a little more, before I reached my room. Inside, I grabbed his duffle bag, ran back downstairs, and to the curious eyes of two girls seated on the sofa, I opened the main door and set Brax’s bag on the walkway. I didn’t look to see if he was waiting. Instead I turned and jogged back to my room. Inside, I peeled out of my wet clothes, stepped into the shower, and beneath the searing water I let the suffocating pain come. I bent over at the waist and sobbed until my throat was hoarse and the water ran cold, and I forced my emotions to run just as icy. It didn’t work, really. The moment I stepped out, wrapped up in a towel, and faced my dorm room alone, grief swamped me. Shame. More humiliation. And the ultimate sting of rejection. It hurt. It just goddamned hurt. I’d cried so much in the shower, I had nothing left. Only a hollow pain in my stomach that wouldn’t ease up.
My phone rang then, and I hurried to it. My heart sank as I answered it. “Hey, Mom.”
“What’s wrong?”
The hole in my stomach felt jagged, ripped. I wanted to cry, just at the sound of her voice. But I had no tears. I inhaled. I wanted the comfort of my family, but I couldn’t talk about it over the phone. “Can I come home?”
“Baby, what’s the matter?” she asked, her voice panicked. Then, she sighed. Almost as if she’d guessed. “Never ask such a silly question. Of course come home. I’ll be waiting on you.”
I wasn’t usually a runner; not the kind that hid from problems. But this … unexpected whirlwind of emotions with Brax? Just thinking his name made me hurt. But staying clammed up in the room we’d just made perfect love in hours before? I couldn’t do it. Quickly, I dressed in my old favorite jeans, tank and a button up. I pulled on my boots, plopped my hat on my head, stuffed a few things to wear in my pack, grabbed my scope bag and headed out. At the door I stopped, scrawled a note to Tessa and left it on her bed. I knew my roommate was going to react badly to news of me and Brax and I’d rather her hear it from me in person.
When I stepped out of the entrance, I noticed Brax’s bag was gone, and the pain bit a little deeper. I made it to my truck, tossed my stuff inside, and thanked God my tires were still intact.
My thoughts scrambled as I sat in the parking lot, gripping the wheel as if my life depended on it. Home would ease this pain, wouldn’t it? Jesus, it hurt. After so long I’d finally let someone in. Gave Brax not only my trust, but my heart. Whether he knew it or not, I was in love with him. Was I truly nothing more than a glorified chase and fuck? Really? Had Brax the capability to say such endearing things to me, to look at me with such wonderment, and to react to my touch with such ferocity then turn so cold, callous, with no regards to my feelings? After the secrets we’d shared; after he’d called me his? How could he have changed his mind so fast? I turned the engine over, threw the gear into drive, and left Winston behind.