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“That’s not fair,” I reply, tears swimming in my eyes. “I would never do that to you. I didn’t intentionally fall for him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he raises his eyebrows defensively. “Why did you hide it? For over three months.”
There are so many reasons, Matt. None of which will make any sense to you.
“There was never a good time to tell you. Audra was pregnant,” I offer. “I didn’t want to add anything else to your plate. You were so stressed.”
He licks his lips slowly, balls his fists at his side. “So, you were punishing me then? For not choosing you? Well, guess what? I did choose you and you were screwing my brother behind my back the whole time. My heart has always been yours and you just stabbed a fucking knife through it.”
I can’t hold the tears at bay anymore. They trickle down my face and he looks pissed off that I have the audacity to cry right now.
“How was I supposed to know that?” I choke out. “You broke my heart and told me you didn’t want me.”
Matt steps back and holds onto the truck for support. “You’re right. I have no one to blame, but myself. I forced you to have to sex with my brother because I was confused about what I wanted.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I try to recover. “I just—”
But Matt pushes off the truck and stands right in front of me, bends down so his lips graze against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “I hope he rips your heart from your chest and tramples it beneath his entitled, fucked-up feet until you can’t breathe anymore. Just like you’re doing to me.” My breath hitches in my throat. “And when he leaves you all used-up, a shadow of who you used to be, I won’t be around to wipe your goddamn tears." There's a pause as hot drops of anguish race down my cheeks. "You’re dead to me now, Jen.”
He pulls away and disappears through the pine trees, his shoulders slumped and his back trembling.
My hand finds my heart and I lay it across the space there, wonder why it feels like my chest has been cracked open and everything I have inside of me is pouring out.
I fall to my knees and the sob that leaves my chest is broken, wounded, and devastatingly final.
Kyle’s arms wrap around me as I keel over, and my hands find the concrete driveway. I lay my cheek on the cool ground and close my eyes.
Please, someone, wake me up from this nightmare.
—
The sun sits on top of the mountain, and I peer up at the sky. Shades of ruby and scarlet and blood orange glow as another day ends.
Another stupid, stupid day.
Mom steps out onto the back porch and offers me a mug of chamomile tea. She sits beside me and stares at the view of the mountain in the distance.
It’s been three days. Three days since Kyle carried me to my bed and laid beside me while I purged myself of the pain I've caused Matt and Kyle and myself. The pain I caused my family by being careless. The pain I caused Diane and Randy because I decided to keep my relationship with Kyle a secret.
Matt hasn’t been home. He’s been staying at Audra’s. She's still dating Tag, but spending her nights with Matt. She stopped by yesterday to check in on me and droned on and on about being torn between two guys. Maybe I should judge her for it. Think ill of her for hiding Matt in her bedroom while she flaunts Tag all over town. He still doesn't know she's pregnant.
But honestly, I'm too numb to care. Or warn her that it's not a good idea. That it's all going to blow up in her pretty face, just like it did me. She's on her own with this one.
Mom takes a sip of tea and exhales heavily. Seems to be her default quirk these days.
I reach out a hand and rest it on her creamy, smooth arm. "What's on your mind?"
She leans her head back, her honey-colored hair falling in a single swoosh behind her. "Diane won't talk to me."
"Matt won't talk to me either," I sigh. "I'm sorry that I’ve caused so many problems. I should have told Matt sooner."
Mom chuckles lightly. "It wouldn't have changed anything. And as much as I love Matt, I'm more worried about Diane. Randy said she won't go to the appointment in Denver he set up for her. She's refusing to leave her office. She won’t even shower."
I peer down at my forearm. The bruising has turned a heinous shade of yellow that reminds me of bile. "I shouldn't have had sex with Kyle in the jacuzzi. That was reckless and stupid."
"I should probably say something about that," Mom chortles. "Scold you. Maybe ground you? But it's not as scandalous as the places I've—"
"Oh my god," I grunt in annoyance. "Please don't finish that sentence."
