Walk Of Shame(58)

She breaks down in tears while moving further away from me as if being close hurts too much. I have the urge to run my hands though her strawberry curls and hold her close, but I don’t. I can’t. I don’t deserve to. “You’re a lost cause, Hemy. I can’t force you to change. You can’t and won’t. I’m only eighteen, dammit . . . and you’re only nineteen. This is all too much to handle. We’re too young for this shit. Can’t you see that?”

“I can change. I just need time. My head is not in a good place and I’m not strong enough to move on just yet. Do you know how hard it is to wake up every morning with these memories?” I point to my head, my hand shaking. “The places I have been. The people I have seen. The things I saw my parents do to Sage. It’s a gaping wound on my brain. Now I don’t even know where the hell she is! She was only nine at the time. I was supposed to protect her. I’m trying my best here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I tried to help you. I tried, but I can’t continue to immerse myself into this filth and heartache. You may not have touched her this time, but what about next time? What extent will you go to in order to get your way of forgetting, huh? I have to get out of here before I lose myself.” Her eyes meet mine and her bottom lip quivers. “I’ve already lost you, because you were never fully there to begin with. I have known you for six years; for six years, Hemy, and you have only gotten worse. Don’t turn into your parents. Don’t let them win.”

I turn away from her, no longer able to look at the disappointment in her eyes. It hurts too damn much. “Can you just give me one more chance? I promise I would never hurt you on purpose. The things you’ve seen in the past were beyond my control. I may have flirted a little when I was high out of my mind, but I have never taken another woman to bed.”

“From what you know of, Hemy,” she bites out in a clipped tone. “We don’t know that for sure and I’m not sticking around to find out. I have to go. I need to go. You’ve hurt me too many times and I feel as if I can’t breathe anymore. It. Hurts. So. Much.”

She turns around and heads for the door, but then stops. “I just have one question. Have you ever loved me?”

Her words linger in the air as I try to force myself to speak. I want to say yes, but the truth is, I’m not sure I know what love truly is. “Onyx, I-”

“No. No. No. I don’t want to hear any excuses. I get it.” She grips the doorframe, but doesn’t turn to face me. “Tell me you love me, Hemy. Give me some kind of hope, because I’ve lost it all.”

My heart speeds up and it becomes hard to breathe. I’m not worth it and we both know it. She said it earlier when she said I was a lost cause. “I’m sorry,” is all I can manage to get out. Someone of my caliber doesn’t know how to love. It isn’t in my genetic makeup. As bad as I want to keep her here, she deserves so much better. But I’m selfish when it comes to her.

Without turning back she lets out a soft cry and covers her mouth. “Don’t bother contacting me, Hemy. I’m moving away from Chicago and I have already changed my number. There’s nothing more to be said between the two of us.”

“Don’t say that,” I whisper. “I can’t fucking lose you too.”

“It’s too late. You already have.” She bends down and reaches for one of her bags, and that’s when I notice her brother outside tossing her bags into his trunk. “My family has already been instructed not to tell you where I’m going. You won’t be able to change their minds, so don’t try. Goodbye, Hemy. It was fun while it lasted, right?” She laughs sardonically. “Have a nice life.”

I fall against the back wall while letting her harsh words sink in. My hands reach up to cover my face and my heart feels as if it’s been ripped from my chest; I’m no longer breathing.

The longer I stand here without her the more it hurts; the more I feel like dying. What the hell am I doing?

“No, wait!” I run to the door and open it, but I’m too late. She’s already gone. I quickly search for my phone, but of course I am so damn stupid that I must have lost it last night.

I turn around and reach for the closest thing to me, slamming it down next to my feet before punching a hole through the wall. What’s a few more breaks or scratches going to hurt? Maybe the physical pain in my hands will take away from the pain that is now throbbing in my chest. Trying to catch my breath, I fall against the wall behind me and drag my back down it until I’m on the floor burying my hands in the thickness of my hair.