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“You begged me. Why did you want another chance? Is this a game to you?”
“No, of course not! Gemma, I’m so sorry you keep getting caught in this mess. I swear I’ll—”
“I’ll see you when I get back. Goodbye, Harv.”
“No, no, no. Wait! Don’t sleep with him.”
I could lie, I could pretend, I could wait to tell him in person. But, instead, the vindictive part of myself, the part contained within each of us, completely takes over.
For once I don’t think over my next words.
“It’s too late for that.”
Silence. Dreadful silence.
The kind that could hack down trees and forests and suck the ocean dry, leaving nothing but death in its wake.
“What?” He sounds unhinged.
We did this to each other. To us.
“Harvey—”
He hangs up.
Why did I say that? Why did I tell him now? In front of Damon? Was Claire around when he asked me that?
Harvey wasn’t supposed to find out like this. Now all bets are off. He’s bound to get naked with Claire tonight. It’s a selfish reasoning, but the thoughts are there.
Damon keeps quiet the entire drive. I’m sure he heard the entire conversation, as Harvey wasn’t whispering.
Chest pain overrides any mental pain I could ever feel. My chest is squeezing, tightening near the organ that gives me life. Funny how that works. How that very same organ will bring me closer to death.
I can’t breathe. I feel the stabs of discomfort on my back.
“Gemmaaa.”
The car stops and I hear the click of Damon’s seat belt.
“Look at me.” He takes my face in his hand. “Gemma, you’re okay. You’re fine.”
I shake my head.
“Look at me—breathe.”
Both his hands slip around my neck, and he forces me to breathe with him. I do, hoping to press away the burn. It’s still there, yet with each exhale, it seems more manageable—bearable.
I finally notice we’re at his place already, in his driveway.
“Gemma,” he whispers into the quiet night.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not, but you will be.”
His words make me feel a tad better, a tad lighter.
One day.
