He nods, but still doesn’t speak.
I try not to take his silence personally, because I know that despite all my best efforts, I have upset him. Instead of trying to push him to speak to me after my hysterical outburst, I decide that it’s about time for me to face the outside world. I reach for my cell phone, which, once I turned it off for the night, is sitting atop the end table beside the bed. I power it on, waiting for the text messages and phone calls to rain in. I hold it in my hand at arm’s length like it’s some lethal weapon that will hurt me if I bring it too close. It doesn’t take long before my phone starts vibrating incessantly, and text messages come flooding in. There are about twenty text messages from Michie alone, three from Suze, one from my mom, and two from Nikkolas. However, there aren’t any missed calls or text messages from Colin.
Yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ever hear from him again. But the fact that he hasn’t tried to reach me yet is staggering. My chest constricts as I try to keep the tears that are already building at bay.
“Nickayla? Are you alright?” Brody asks, finally breaking his silence. He’s about to ask me another question when the doorbell outside the lake house rings. “Give me—uh, give me a sec.”
I nod, biting my lower lip as I watch his figure retreat into the other room. I scroll through the text messages once my phone stops vibrating, and I delete every single one of them. I dial the number one for voicemail and delete every single voicemail message. Before long, I hear the front door being slammed closed. I jump at the sound, but I don’t move. It must be more takeout, if I know Brody like I think I do.
He strolls casually back into the bedroom, his hands in his pockets as he gives me a sympathetic glance. He extends his hand like I’m supposed to take it, and even though I’m not sure what he’s putting his hand out for, I take it.
“What, Brody? Is it more food? Because if it is, I can’t eat another thing,” I tell him.
“That’s not it. You have company,” he says.
Groaning, I lean back on my heels, trying to use my weight to get him to stop walking, but it doesn’t work. He’s practically dragging me out of the bedroom.
“I’m not in the mood for company.”
“Well, you’d better get in the mood because they refuse to leave.”
At that, I raise my eyebrows a bit, but I don’t ask any questions. I don’t protest further. Brody continues dragging me along until finally, we’re in the living room. There’s a figure sitting on the couch, and when we make our entrance to the living room, he stands up.
It takes a long time for me to register who he is. His shoulders are slumped, hair is a disheveled, curly mess, a five o’clock shadow forming on his face, his shirt wrinkled and hanging out of his pants which look too big for him. Instead of the casual grin I’m used to, he wears a frown like his face was made that way. I cock my head, taking in this appearance and trying to figure out who’s standing before me, because it can’t possibly be who I think it is.
But when he speaks, I know for sure.
“Nickayla,” Colin says in a rushed breath, his voice breaking. “Can we please talk?”
Twenty Four.
“Are you in love with her?” is the first question I ask once Brody has gone outside to call Sabrina and Colin and I are left alone.
Neither of us makes a single move toward the other. He stands in the same spot he was in before I spoke, and I haven’t moved even a centimeter from the place I stalled at the minute he got off of the couch. And the longer I look at him, the more reluctant I am to do so. I don’t know this man. I don’t know him at all. My Colin has never looked so…broken.
“No, Nickayla. God, no.” His answer comes at just the right time. He doesn’t respond too quickly, nor does he hesitate. “I’ve never been in love with anyone but you.”
I nod, but I don’t really know what to say. Lately, his words and his actions just don’t add up.
I stare at him for a second, cocking my head again to the side. He’s changed so much in the last day that I barely recognize him. He’s changed so much that I wonder if perhaps he’s hurting more than I am. And then, I think of the way I felt when I heard out of Madilyn’s own mouth that she kissed him. And I know that’s not possible.
“Did you kiss her because I can’t have sex with you?” I ask, averting my gaze.
I’m staring down at the floor and Colin rushes over to me. Although I can tell he’s nervous to be there with me, he doesn’t hesitate to grab my chin and force me to look him straight in the eye. When he does that, I get a minute glimpse of the Colin that I used to know.
“No, Nickayla. She kissed me. I’m not making excuses for my actions when it comes to her, because there are none. But I would never cheat on you; you know that. And I for damn sure wouldn’t do it because we haven’t had sex yet. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m sure I can do without it until you’re ready.”
With those words, I step backward, my back pressed up against the wall.
“What makes you think I’ll ever be ready to be vulnerable with you again after all this?”
He recoils, his head jerking to the side and his eyes squinting shut as if I’ve just slapped him even though I haven’t. Even though I wish I had enough anger in me toward him to do that. But I could never bring myself to raise a hand to him out of malice, no matter what he’s done.
“What makes you think I even want to be with you at all after all this?” I ask, my voice raising.
“Nickayla, I know the kiss had to have hurt you. I know that. But I also know that this isn’t the worst we’ve been through, nor will it be the worst we’ll ever go through together.”
“You think this is about the fucking kiss?”
My voice goes shrill at the end of my question, and when he nods his head, I’m further convinced of the total ignorance of the male species. I roll my eyes, and Colin’s shoulders slouch a little more. He’s always towered over me, made me feel like he was so large that he could always protect me, that he was invincible. But right now, he looks about six inches tall.
“Yes,” he whispers so low that I barely hear him.
I shake my head.
“You couldn’t be more wrong. This isn’t about the fact that you kissed another girl. This isn’t even about the fact that you kissed Madilyn,” I tell him. The minute I speak, his gaze meets mine. “It’s about the fact that I warned you she was up to no good. It’s about the fact that I tried to convince you over and over again, but you refused to believe me. You treated me like I was crazy. You acted like I was imagining shit when all the signs were right in fucking front of you! You took her side time after time! The one time you took my side over hers, it was too late. The damage was already done.” I take a deep breath to keep from completely blowing up. “I don’t care that you kissed her. Or she kissed you, however the Hell it happened. I can forgive you for that. In fact, I already have. But what I can’t forgive you for is making me feel like I was fucking insane. For treating me like a stranger in the home we created together. For making me feel like an outsider in our relationship. For making me doubt you, doubt myself, and doubt the love we have for each other. For making me feel unsafe, like any moment, our relationship could crumble. And for the reason that, in the end, it did. I can’t forgive you for any of that. Not yet. It’s too soon.”
Even after I’ve said the words, I regret them. I only mean them partially. Part of me finds a sadistic pleasure in watching him crumble with every word I say. The other part of me wants to run over to him and tell him we can work everything out, because we love each other. And when you love someone, you accept the other person’s faults, no matter what. But my heart won’t fully give in to either part.
“I’m so sorry. I just want to be with you. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, Nickayla. Please, come home. Don’t stay here another night. Come home so we can work this out. I promise you, I won’t ever doubt you again. Please, just give me another chance.”
I’m hearing everything that he’s saying, but I’m not processing it. I don’t want to hear yet another apology when he could do the same thing all over again. I don’t want to hear his remorse when his actions later on will speak more volumes than his words.
His gaze is full of expectation, like he’s waiting for me to say something. But I can’t. I can’t say more and risk hurting him. No matter how much he’s hurt me, I don’t want to hurt him back. Those are games that people play with those they consider disposable. But Colin is not disposable. Our love is not disposable.
Colin sighs, collapsing against the armrest of the couch. He places a hand in his lap, and brings the other up to his chin to smooth the stubble growing there. His cool, green gaze meets mine, and he gives me the smallest of smiles.
“You know, Brody told me this story once, about you. He said you didn’t learn to ride a bike without training wheels until you were about eleven years old. You were afraid of falling. And then one day, the training wheels were gone, and you weren’t afraid anymore. He told me to wait for you to take the safety net down on our relationship, because it would be worth it. His exact words were, ‘When she’s ready, she’ll take the safety off your relationship, and when that day comes, you better be prepared because Fearless Nic won’t ever give up on it.’ And I believed him. I took him on his word. Because I’ve seen you at your worst. And I’ve seen you at your very best. I’ve seen you when the world has knocked you down, and I’ve seen you when you leap back to your feet and fight back.” He pauses, closing his eyes. “I’ve seen you when you’re so afraid that you’re shaking from your head to your toes. And I’ve seen you when you should be at your weakest moment, but you let the fear wake you up, and you become this fearless warrior of a girl who no one can hurt. When you’re that girl, you’re powerful. You’re brave. You’re fearless. And now your fear is getting the very best of you.” His voice fades out, and his head drops the slightest bit. “And now you’re giving up on us.”
“I’m not giving up on us, Colin,” I argue.
He stands up, and I take a step back. When I do, he takes a step back as well. He startled me, and for a fraction of a second, I didn’t know what he was going to do. I wasn’t sure if he was going to come after me angrily, or if he was going to let his lust take over and try and kiss me. Either way, I don’t want it. Not right now. The best thing that I can do is stand my ground.
“You are giving up on us! If you were willing to fight for us, you wouldn’t be here with Brody. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have broken up with me and left me.”
“First of all, it’s not like that with Brody. Never has been and never will be. He’s with Sabrina and I’m in love with you. So the next time you say some bullshit like that, I might actually slap you.”
He blanches, but he doesn’t retreat further.
“If you’re really in love with me, you’d come home. You’d fight for us.”
“If you’re really in love with me, you’d never have let Madilyn kiss you!”
“I already apologized for that, Nickayla. What else do you want me to do? Beg?”
At that, I stand up a little taller, marching over to him and placing my hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look me straight in the eye. This is the time for me to take what I want, not wait for him to give it to me.
“That’s exactly what I want, Colin. I want you to put your hands on me like you can’t bear the thought of never touching me again. I want you to kiss me every time like it’s the last time. I want you to look at me every day the way you looked at me the first day we ever laid eyes on each other. And more than anything, I want you to try. I don’t want it to be easy for you to watch me walk out the fucking door. I want you on your knees, begging me to stay. Yell at me. Scream for me. Tell me how much you love me. Force me to stay. Beg me to stay! I want you to fight for me!” I yell, tears threatening to fall with every new word that I say.
“I have fought for you, Nickayla!” he yells.
“Fight harder!”
He winces, shaking his head as my hands fall from his face and backing away from me.
“Fight, Colin! Fight!”
I’m pissed at him. I’m furious. I storm over to him, my palms out as I shove his chest. He stumbles backward, and his head snaps up as his eyes lock with mine. I shove him again, and he steps back, retreating. “Say something!” I shove him again, and his gaze goes glassy. Tears form in my eyes as I shove him once more. “Anything!” They start to fall, and he shakes his head, taking yet another step backward as I give him another shove. “Please!”
I’m sobbing hysterically, waiting for his response to change. I’m waiting for him to say something. To grab my hands and pull me up against him so that he can kiss me the way he used to kiss me, with that fire in his gaze. But he does nothing. He says nothing. I make to shove him again, but he grabs my wrists, stopping my hands before they can reach his chest. He stares at me solemnly, and I gasp as he pulls me up against his chest. I start to think maybe this is it. Maybe he’s going to show me how much he loves me, how much he needs me. Maybe he’s going to give me exactly what I’ve wanted. But instead, when my body reaches his chest, he wraps his arms around me tightly, and he just holds me this way. He doesn’t speak or move. I just feel his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek, memorize the way that it stutters when we’re close to each other much like when I fall asleep in his arms. I feel safe here, secure, and I know for a fact that the minute he pulls away from this embrace, he’s going to kiss me. Because as much as I don’t want him to, I know him. And this is what he does when he’s ready for a fight to end. He holds me until the blinding pain subsides to a dull ache, and then he kisses me, and everything falls away.
He releases me from his hold, and then he places both his hands on either side of my face, his thumb reaching my chin and tilting it upward. He gives me the weakest smile I’ve ever seen in my life, and then he kisses me on the forehead. After he does that, I close my eyes for a second. I can’t help it. When I open them, the Colin I’m staring at is different from the Colin I know. He’s staring at me like he doesn’t know me.
He inhales a ragged breath before saying, “I will always love you, Nickayla Quinn.”
I’ve heard it said that a woman’s intuition is the strongest thing in the world. A woman will know immediately if the man she loves is cheating on her. Will know if something is wrong with someone near and dear to her heart. Will feel the pain within a fucking nanosecond when their child is hurt.
My intuition is telling me right now that Colin isn’t about to fight for me.
He’s giving up.
He’s telling me goodbye.
I feel my eyes go wide, and now I’m the one shaking my head. Every inch of my body from the hair on the top of my head to the bottom of my feet is on alert. This isn’t supposed to be happening. He steps away from me, letting his hands fall from my face. Jumping into action, I reach down and grab his hands, trying to force them back into the position they were in before, before I knew what he was doing, before, when I thought he was about to fight for me like no man has ever fought before. But instead of him keeping them there like I need him to, he lets them fall.
“Colin,” I say, because no other words will come out.
I wasn’t sure what I expected. When I left him, I wanted him to chase after me. Wanted him to blow my phone up with phone calls and text messages. I wanted him to tell me how sorry he was and beg me to give him one last chance. And when I asked him to fight harder, I expected him to. I needed him to. And now…
Now he’s refusing to fight at all.
“I’ll see you around, Nic,” he says, though his voice is low and monotone.
Before I have the chance to stop him, he turns to the door and twists the doorknob and walks right out the door.
I drop to my knees and clutch at my chest, completely winded as I feel what’s left of my heart break completely in two. The door closes, and a sense of deja vu comes over me. This is exact
ly what I did to Colin, not even twenty four hours ago. And now, I’m in the same exact position.
And I can’t breathe.
I don’t know how long I’m on the floor, crying and gasping and struggling for air before Brody is on the floor in front of me, wrapping his arms around my shaking body and holding me close. I feel his breath at my ear as he whispers to me that everything is going to be okay, but that only makes me sob harder.
I keep replaying it in my head. The things I said, the look on his face, the way he held me before he gave me his goodbye. The way he called me “Nic”. And none of it is right. None of it feels real. It can’t be, can it?
Brody’s calling my name. He’s yelling it, his hands on either side of my face as he shakes me. I gaze into his eyes and close mine for a second as I struggle to inhale a deep breath. I let my head fall forward so that it rests against Brody’s shoulder, and I sigh.
“Take me home,” I tell him through my sobs. “I want to go home.”
“To your parents’?” he asks, and he sounds so far away.
I can’t bear to speak another fucking word. All my energy is gone. All the fight I had left in me has diminished. All I can think about is one thing.
I’m going home.
The only problem with that is, home is supposed to be where the heart is. And my heart isn’t at my parents’ house. My heart is in the coziest apartment in Harlow. My heart is with the broken, green-eyed boy who saved me from drowning. That’s my home.
And it doesn’t even fucking matter anymore.
Twenty Five.
My parents won’t stop staring at me. They’ve been giving me that “kicked puppy” look ever since Brody dropped me off here a week ago. Even more so since I sent Nikkolas and Sarah to pick up some more of my stuff. They haven’t asked me what’s happened, nor have they even mentioned Colin. I’m extremely grateful for that, because I’m not ready to talk about it.
Almost Everything (Nickayla Quinn Trilogy Book 2) Page 21