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“For fuck’s sake, Jade.” I groan, dropping my face into my hands.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” I say without even blinking. “You’re dead fucking wrong. I don’t need any of those things.”
“From the beginning of this . . .”—she gestures between us—“you made it clear you believed in love and romance. Your parents’ story, the fact that all you’ve ever wanted to be is a husband. You’re looking for a relationship I can’t give you.”
I know what she means. I know she means she never wanted a relationship to begin with. I know logically it’s not about me, but it feels so personal. It feels like she’s saying she doesn’t want me. And I so desperately don’t want that to be true. Though I’m bloodied and battered, a soldier on his last breath, I still can’t stop fighting.
“And if I told you I didn’t care about any of that . . . that I just wanted you . . .” I step closer to her, frustration leaking from my voice. All I have left is the desperation to keep her close—to not lose her. “That I don’t need a label on a relationship, a white picket fence, or a steady paycheck, and I would be happy traveling the world in a fucking shoebox if it meant I could do it with you . . . Could you at least admit that you want me? That you want to be with me?”
“No.”
The syllable is harsh and crystal clear, ringing out into the cool November night. I try to swallow around the lump of emotion in my throat, but I can’t. And I can’t get a full breath past it either. My white flag of surrender goes up as I lose all my fight. Lightning illuminates the sky.
“So that’s it?” My voice wobbles, and I don’t fight the tears that finally fall, rolling down my cheeks and my chin.
“I guess so.” She starts to turn but stops halfway, looking over her shoulder at me. “It’s better this way, okay?”
“For who, Jade?”
“For both of us.”
It starts to rain. Fat droplets dot my face, and another crack of thunder rolls through the sky.
She stares at me for half a second more and then turns and walks away from me.
This time I let her go.
23
JADE
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”Act III, Scene II
I despise gin. For some reason, all this frat party has tonight is gin, and I don’t want to be sober, so that’s what I’m drinking.
I weave through the crowd, a cup in each hand, and head to the basement to lose myself in the music and movement of a sea of bodies. It takes me as long to find someone to dance with as it does for the first drink to hit me, which is to say, not long at all. I try to flip through the mental menu of what I’ve eaten today, but all I come up with is a Pop-Tart, a bag of cheddar popcorn, a couple waffles, and at least two Diet Cokes.
It’s not like I’m avoiding meals, but a lot of things fell to the wayside the past two weeks with my mom and catching up, so I had a lot going on today. Food was the least important thing on my mind.
I slug back my second Solo cup of gin and lemonade and ditch the guy I’m dancing with in search of more alcohol. I tripgoing up the stairs, and someone coming down the stairs helps me back up.
“You okay there, gorgeous?”
I look up and into Ian’s eyes. Startled, I straighten and blink a few times, but Ian disappears and some guy I don’t know is standing in front of me, reaching out to steady me.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m . . . Yeah, thank you.”
The guy, tall like Ian but more muscular and tanned, helps me up the stairs, walking backward, holding one of my hands as I clutch the railing with the other. Upon closer inspection, this guy has almost black hair and bright green eyes, and he doesn’t look a thing like Ian. Obviously.
Ian was never here.
I clearly need more to drink.
The muscly guy leads me to a couch in the living room, and I follow him. Sitting does sound nice. The room is considerably less crowded than the basement, with just a handful of people standing in a small group, chatting. There’s a pair of people making out in the far corner of the room. No one really seems to notice us as we come in and sit.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” the guy says, not really asking anything.
