Chapter 28

My chest feels as if it's on fire as I run to the car with my bag hiked up on my shoulder. I never thought seeing a vehicle could make me feel equal parts relieved and yet repulsed with myself. What the hell did I just do?

Oh, yeah. I ruined the only good thing in my life. And the worst part is that I know this is the end of the line—there's no coming back from this. I could see it on his face when he begged me to go back to bed. There's no taking this back. The thing is, I really, really want to now. I wish I could turn around and knock on his door, tell him it was all a mistake, that I didn't know what I was saying, and go back to bed safely in his arms. I could bet my life that I'll never feel what I do for him with anyone else.

God, I'm so fucked up.

I knew Robert screwed me up as a whole, but I never realized just how much until now. The deep-seated trust issues are probably never going to go away, are they? I'll never be normal again, will I? I'm convinced this is the truth, so I need to hear from someone I know will support whatever decision I make. Even though I know it was the wrong one. She's always there for me. Always.

Cheyenne.

My feet slap the concrete as I run faster, the pain coming from the heels radiating up my legs, but my car is finally visible, so I slow down slightly. Looking down, I see the blood on the back of my feet from not wearing socks with my stupid Vans. Of course, this would happen to me; I might as well have just gone barefoot. Either way, I push through because I have to, ignoring the pain and closing the distance between myself and my piece of shit vehicle. You know what would be the cherry on top? If it didn't start.

I unlock the car door, and when my hand wraps around the handle, I hear the telltale sign of the elevator opening and then a choked "Bailey" coming from it. I cover my mouth to hide my sob and get in the car, reversing as fast as possible, forgoing my seatbelt and any measure of safety in my haste to get out. It doesn't even matter though, because if I died right fucking now it would be the perfect way to end my pain. Maybe I'll get lucky and get T-boned on the way out of the parking garage.

Don't think that way.

Theo wants you safe.

Fuck that. Theo doesn't want me safe anymore; he wants me gone. It doesn't even matter that he came after me. That when I look at my rearview mirror he's on his knees in the middle of the road, his face in his hands. I know that defeated feeling will only last so long before the hate sets in, as it should. Because I freaking deserve it. More than anything, I know that.

I can't handle it—not with everything I feel for him in return. So I speed up and leave him behind. I go faster until I can't see him at all, until the little picture in my rearview mirror is all but a figment of my imagination. At least that's what I'm telling myself to survive this. Because if I focus on how much I hurt him, even I am going to hate myself.

The fact remains that I do return his feelings, which is why I have to step back. It sounds really stupid, but I can't get hurt again. Not the way I already was, where my heart was ripped out from my chest and stabbed with a kitchen knife. I won't survive it if that pain is directed at me from Theo. And that false feeling of safety that crawls up my spine when we're together, I need to crush it. Because it's not fucking real. Nothing good in this life is. I can't even pretend to trust him or anyone else, and I'll always be looking over my shoulder, wondering if I'm safe from Robert. If he'll come back and disturb my life the way he already has. Fuck, he already knows where I work, which probably means he knows where I live. Even where my Theo lives.

Not yours anymore, stupid.

I don't have answers as to why I am the way I am. Why I hurt him and will continue to hurt any man who gets close to me. I think something died inside of me when Robert mutilated me. Some vital organ—my heart, I believe—just stopped functioning. The thing is though, I felt it start to beat again when Theo came into my life, so what the fuck is my excuse now? I'll never have a reason for the shit I just pulled tonight.

Thankfully, the drive to Cheyenne's is not that long, and before I know it, I'm pulling into the parking space next to hers. Ever since we moved here, I've had the remote to open the gate and keys to the apartment, which comes in really handy on nights like these, not that I frequently break up with people. Is it really a breakup if we were never a couple?

You know better, Bailey. You were so much more than that.

I run out of my car and up the concrete stairs to the second floor, ignoring the pain in my heels, and jam the key into the doorknob roughly. My palm meets the door as I push it open, and I slam it hard enough to hopefully wake Cheyenne. I just don't have it in me to call out to her. Oh, never mind, yes, the fuck I do.

"Chey!" I roar. "Cheyenne, please, I need you."

Sobs take over my body, controlling every limb, and I hear more than feel the crack of my knees as they meet the hardwood floor. The pain in my chest is unexplainable, and I imagine this is what it feels like to have a damn heart attack.

"What's wrong?" Chey asks, her sleepy voice coming from her bedroom door. "Babe?"

"I—I—" I sob harder, the knot in my throat not allowing me to talk. "Hate myself."

"Shhhhhh." Suddenly, her arms are wrapped around me, and I don't even notice when or how she got to my side so quickly, but it doesn't matter. "Don't say that. What happened?"

"I left him."

"You left who?" A male voice comes from Cheyenne's doorway, "Who, Bailey?"

I look up to find Jeremy in the doorway, in his boxer briefs, and I glance rapidly between the two of them. I thought they hated each other, that they couldn't even stand to be in the same room. I thought?—

"I told you to stay in the room, Jer," Cheyenne growls. "Go back. Now."

"Hell no, honeybun," he tells Chey. "I'm going to my fucking friend, just like you are right now."

"Oh, fuck," I whisper, overwhelmed by everything that's going on. Maybe it was a terrible idea to come here. Now Jeremy is going to go to Theo and tell on me, say that I'm distraught and barged into Cheyenne's apartment, not myself. "Please, don't do that."

"You have some balls, Bailey," Jeremy growls as he goes back in the room. "Sadly for you they're not big enough to make me betray my friend."

"I'm not asking you to betray him!" I call after him, trying to get up from the ground and out of Cheyenne's embrace. She just holds me tighter. "Just don't tell him I'm here, crying, please."

Jeremy comes out dressed and with a bag in his hand. "I will tell him whatever I want, Bailey." He takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. "He's probably more devastated than you, anyway," he replies with disgust, "You're the one who broke his heart."

"Jeremy!" I wail when he goes to the door and opens it, but he stops. "Please."

"You made a big fucking mistake, girl." He shakes his head as he looks ahead. "I hope you know what you just did."

Then, after he exits the apartment, he closes the door behind himself. And Cheyenne? She does not say a word, seeing as she knows what Jeremy said is true. I think I made a mistake coming here.

"What the fuck was he doing here?" I ask Cheyenne, needing to break the silence and, more than anything, direct the conversation away from me while I recover. Not that I ever will. He's totally right. "I thought you hated each other."

"We do," Cheyenne replies with a shrug, but I can tell she's lying now. Damn, how could I have been so blind? "Now tell me what happened with you, and stop trying to change the subject."

I wipe tears from my cheeks, but they just keep coming. It's useless. I am. "I—" My phone dings repeatedly, and like the masochist I am, I pull it out of my back pocket.

Theo

I fucking tried. Good luck with everything. I can't do this anymore.

My hands shake as I read the messages and almost drop my phone. But no matter how much it hurts, I can't give him hope. I won't do that to him or us, knowing I'm never going back.

Bailey

I'm so, so, sorry Theo.

Theo

Just know if you don't come back today…don't come back at all.

My stomach drops, knowing he's serious. This is also exactly what I wanted to accomplish. For him to never want to talk to me again, so I'm not tempted to beg on my fucking knees for another chance.

Bailey

I won't. Feel free to turn off your location. You don't owe me anything.

Even if I recognize we both did it so I would feel safe, he no longer has to take care of me. I don't know why he wanted to in the first place.

Oh, yeah, because he fucking loves me. Great.

Theo

If that's what you want.

Bailey

Goodbye, Theo.

And just like that, I let the phone clatter to the ground, my splattered heart going right with it.

Cheyenne looks at me for a beat, then grabs my hand and pulls me up, leaving my phone—and heart—behind on the ground. Settling on the couch should feel comfortable, but every part of me hurts, down to my fingertips. Is this what it truly feels like to have a broken heart? What the hell was I feeling for Robert? Because this pain…I've never felt it before. Not even when I was stabbed.

"It hurts, Chey." I gasp out, clutching at my chest. "Everything hurts."

"I know, babe." Cheyenne's face mirrors pity and sympathy, and my heart clenches in my chest at the ugly emotions rearing their heads. "Just cry it out."

She pats her lap, and I go down with her, resting my wet face on her bare thighs. She doesn't seem to mind though, and at least I have that going for me, someone who genuinely cares about me enough to let tears and snot run down their skin for the sake of helping me feel better. Not that I ever will.

"Tell me what happened."

My sniffles and gasps are the only sound in the apartment as I attempt to get my emotions under control, unsuccessfully. The sound of my heart is so loud in my ears that I genuinely don't understand how it hasn't stopped beating. Surely, losing Theo would be enough cause to make it cease. But no, I'm that unlucky. I get to live with myself after this, regretting every ounce of pain I've caused him until the day I die.

"I—" Deep breaths, Bailey. Where is my fucking Xanax? I swear the tightening in my chest must mean another panic attack. "Left him. He said he was in love with me, so I had to go. I know it makes no sense, Chey, but I can't give him what he wants. What he needs. Fuck, what he deserves."

"And what is that?" Cheyenne sighs, running a hand through my hair. "What could you possibly not give him that someone else could?"

"Trust," I reply with finality. "All of my trust."

"It takes time to trust after what happened to you, Bai," she tells me softly. "You went through so much, and if you've explained it to him—I'm sure he understands."

"We were only supposed to be friends with benefits," I groan, running a hand down my face to wipe away as many tears as I can. "Falling in love with him wasn't supposed to happen."

"So when did it turn into more?" she asks me, her hand halting in my hair as her phone begins to ring. The call is rejected.

"I don't know!" A knot the size of Texas lodges itself in my throat, and I cough it out. "He wanted dates, and sleepovers, and?—"

"I hate to break it to you, Bailey." Chey chuckles sadly. "But you were never friends with benefits. You were dating each other."

"No." I shake my head adamantly and get off her lap to face her. For whatever reason, the blue of her eyes is deeper today, and now I'm thinking of Theo's blue eyes instead because I can't ever stop thinking of him. God, when will I ever stop? Is it even possible now? "I was very clear."

"Were you also very clear with your heart before you fell in love with him?" she asks, her face serious. "Or was it only after?"

"I was clear, Chey!" I yell, then sob. My shoulders shake, and my abdomen clenches painfully with the force of it, and the tears just won't stop?—

"Oh, babe," Cheyenne whispers. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

"No, I'm not," I snap. "I've never felt this way before, Chey. And I've never hurt this way either. I'd rather let Robert stab me a million times over than live like this."

Cheyenne reaches out, pinching my chin and directing my gaze to hers. "Don't you dare ever fucking say that," she growls. "You don't get to leave me."

"What do I do?" I cry out, "How do I stop this pain?"

"The same way you stopped your pain with Robert," she affirms. "You move on." My stomach drops at the suggestion, and I tighten my fists until I feel the crescent marks on the palms of my hands. "You pick yourself up, go back to work, and lose yourself in it again. But if that's not what you really want, then you go back to his condo and get him back right fucking now."

"I can't, Chey." I laugh, "I fucked it up all the way. There's no turning back. He said so himself."

"He didn't mean it, Bai." She shakes her head like I'm stupid. "He loves you. He wants you back."

"If only it were that easy."

"It could be if you just get the hell out of this apartment and go to him. Tell him how much you love him, that you made a mistake, that you weren't thinking, Bai."

"Maybe I just need to think about this, Cheyenne," I snap. "What it would mean for me, for my carefully crafted fucking life, to have someone who cares about me to this degree." Taking a deep breath, I loosen my hands and turn to look at her once more. "What if he gets jealous, too? What if he hits?—"

"He would never do that, and you know it," she snaps. "Don't taint him like that just because you're scared. Don't make him out to be a monster when you know he is not."

"You're right." I nod. "You're right."

Cheyenne is right because I know deep in my heart he'd never hurt me—not in a million years. No matter what happens, I know I have a safe place in Theo Anderson. I'm just the stupid one who let go of it, my safe harbor. And now I'll never get it back.

"Don't be stupid, Bai." Cheyenne bites her lip into her mouth. "Go get him back."

"I have to think about it, Chey." I shake my head, knowing how hurt he is. There's no way I can mend his broken heart right now. He needs a moment to himself, without me. "I really fucked up, and I need to figure out what I want for myself before involving him again."

"You're right. It wouldn't be fair to him to fuck this up again."

I yawn, then slap a hand over my mouth. My eyes feel heavy from all the crying though, and I'm a wreck. I just want this night to be over. "Can we go to bed?"

"Are you sure you wanna sleep where I just?—"

"Don't say it." I sigh and roll my eyes, "I'm fine on the couch."

But because she's Cheyenne, she lies down on her side behind me and cuddles me. This is why she's my best friend. She's always here for me, no matter what. The person who lifts me up, who is my shoulder to cry on, who is my hand to hold.

"Let's sleep, Bai," she whispers. "Tomorrow will be even longer than tonight."

Goddamn, is she always right?