Page 44 of Floodgates

“I don’t care. Let me come too.”

“No. You should wait.”

“I don’t want to wait; I want to be with you.”

“There’s no more you and me, Breck,” I said implacably, my gaze locked with his. “You know there isn’t.”

“Don’t say that. Just give this some time. Don’t make a decision today. It’s too soon. Just wait. Wait a little while.”

I shook my head.

“We’re not over,” he said, sounding scared even as he brushed away tears from under his eyes. “I won’t accept that we’re over. Just say you’ll give it some time. Just say that, and even though it’ll kill me, I’ll go away.”

“You should go see Celia.”

He smiled at me then, and it was bittersweet. “Trace, I am not going to anybody else’s place. I love you. You’re my boyfriend. I’ll come by your dad’s tomorrow to see you.”

“Is that wise?”

He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a rueful grin. “I have to face him eventually. And I want to see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” I heard myself saying because I thought it was the easiest way to get him out of the room. If I didn’t argue, he would go.

“Okay.” His smile brightened as he let out a deep breath. “I’ll see you then.”

I nodded.

He didn’t leave, though, just stood there and looked at me.

“What?”

He stuffed his hands down hard into his pockets. “I can’t help it. I want to bring you home with me. I want to take care of you.”

It was a nice thing to say.

“You’re hurt and I love you and so—I want to be with you.”

I swallowed hard and looked at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Can I hug you good-bye?”

The last thing I wanted to do was touch him. “Not today.”

He took a step toward me, then hesitated a moment before continuing to the bed and leaning over and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. I didn’t recoil; I didn’t have it in me to pull away and end things like that. No matter what it was now, once upon a time I had been in love with Breckin Alcott.

I watched him turn and leave the room without a backward glance, and then I lost it. It needed to come out, all of it—the sadness and the finality and the end. I grabbed the pillow and sobbed. And, really, they weren’t tears for him, but for the whole shitty situation, for things that would never be. A minute later, arms wrapped tightly around me, and I was squeezed hard.

“Don’t cry, Trace. It’s okay. I promise, you’ll be okay,” Alex said gently, cajoling me.

He rubbed his chin across the top of my head and patted my back. I took a deep breath before moving the pillow away from my face, sniffling as the crying ceased.

“I saw him walking away, and you’ll be happy to know that I didn’t shoot him. I didn’t even yell.”

“No fun being a grown-up, is it?” I teased him, smiling through my tears, looking up into my brother’s face.

“Nope. Not at all.”

And minutes later, as I watched him unpack his army-green duffel bag, now full of all my stuff, something occurred to me.