The silence between us was swollen with betrayal. Peppered with her tears. My brain scoured through every moment we’d been through, pillaging for facts, searching for the lies. The chance encounters. Had it all been a ploy? A means to an end?
“Serendipity,” I said, emotion swarming my voice.
When her body flinched, I knew.
“Was it even real? All those encounters?”
“Most.” Her voice was so brittle, it broke off at the end.
“Are you—” I bent to find her eyes, shock stealing my senses. “Are you fucking serious, Prim?”
“I went to the aquarium, knowing you’d be there.” The words shot out of her like a confession she’d been hanging on to for far too long. “But that was it, Grayson. I swear. Every other time was us. Fate. The reason we were brought together.”
She reached for me, her hand sliding over my arm. I stared at it, warring internally over the need to push her away and the need to pull her closer to me. With every truth, I felt her slipping farther from me. Farther into the black hole.
My hands plunged through my hair as I paced away from her, trying to grab ahold of the rage clashing behind my rib cage. It blurred my thoughts. I had to know. I had to peel it out of her. Every fact. Every lie.
“And the bar with the douche? The accidental text? I read that rule. The one you used on me that night. Was that Poppy, or was that the real Prim?”
I watched her crumple in on herself, shame painted in red splotches along her breastbone. “Poppy said it would make you realize you liked me. I saw you with Monica, and I let my doubts get the best of me.”
Fucking Poppy.
“I already did like you, Prim. I made that very clear. It was you who kept pulling away.” I paused as the truth punched me square in the gut. “It was because of the guilt, wasn’t it? And you let someone like Poppy dictate you, all because you didn’t trust me.”
Her liquid gaze shot to mine. “Because I was still getting to know you. And, yes, I did listen to Poppy, but it was only because I was way out of my league when I met you. It wasn’t just you I didn’t trust. It was me too. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. Good enough to be a journalist.”
I moved away from her. Dropped onto the couch, cupping my face in my hands.
“Is that all? Are there any other secrets you’ve kept?” Every inhale, every breath I reached for was nothing but stale air, choking the light she’d once kept for me.
“No,” she said as she took the seat next to me. “It was never supposed to be published. It wasn’t even complete. Just scattered notes I’d jotted down or recorded. It was Quinn. She filled in the rest.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. “And if I hadn’t handed my father’s story to you?”
Her head dipped as she choked on a sob. Her entire body trembled as she fought to speak, “I made a huge mistake, Grayson. I wanted the job so badly that I would have all but begged, borrowed, or stolen to get it. To not have to go home with my head hanging in shame.” Her hands twisted in front of her as she took in a stuttered breath. “Now, I’ve traded one shame for another.”
She couldn’t look at me. The shame she spoke of seemed to mold itself into her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry. I tried … I tried to tell you. So many times. But this … the way you’re looking at me right now … is the exact reason I couldn’t. The hurt I’ve caused you … if I could take it all from you, I would.” Desperation clung to her tone. “Please forgive me. I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”
I pulled in a deep breath, fighting the pain making a bed in my chest. “I love you too, Prim, but you never said a word. Never trusted me enough to let me help you through it.” My heart was ripping in half, swallowed by doubt.
She reached for me, but I pulled away.
“I need time. I can’t even think straight right now.” I stood, the ripping sensation in my heart deepening. I needed to get away. Needed space to clear my head. To work through this shitstorm that was us.
“Grayson, please!” she sobbed, her face a glossy mess. Her eyes so wide, she almost seemed innocent.
My heart was stone. Sealed off. Closed down for repair. “Harrison offered me an assignment,” I said, voice hoarse, butchered like my insides. “I’ll have to go out of town for a bit. I won’t be able to keep in contact. And … and Monica will also be there. I wanted you to hear it from me, so you don’t try to use any of your rules to get back at me.”
Her face paled, and then a flurry of emotions passed over her features. “So, that’s it. You’re just going to take the assignment, knowing she’ll be there?”
“Prim, I have to work.”
“No. You want to punish me. But … why her?”
“You know it isn’t like that.”
“Maybe not for you, but you know it is for her. She won’t stop, Grayson. She’s … she’s a snake in the grass, and her sights are set on you.”
My arms folded over my chest as the hole beneath me bottomed out. “Well, you’re just going to have to trust me then, aren’t you?” I stood, moving away from her, her scent poking at my anger, trying to quell it. “Because I can tell you, this won’t work if you can’t do that. I mean what I say, and I mean it when I say, I’m not interested in Monica. But work is work, and our paths will cross. You’re just going to have to deal with it … the same way I’m dealing with …” I glanced down at my phone, at the article pulled up. “The same way I’m dealing with this.”
She looked away, tears spilling over her cheeks.
Silence brewed between us, a foreign distance keeping us apart.
How had this happened? How had I not seen it?
How … how could we come back from this?
“When do you leave?”
I glanced up. “Tomorrow.”
“For how long?”
“Just a few days. And when I get back, we’ll talk. Okay?”
Her hung head gave a small dip of acknowledgment.
After a moment, she asked, “Is it over?”
I allowed myself to meet her gaze. “I don’t … I don’t think so. I need … I need time.”
When she stood to leave, I had to clench my fists to keep from going after her. To keep from pulling her close and kissing away the pain. Though I didn’t want her to go—didn’t want us to end—I knew it was for the best because I didn’t trust myself with my emotions right now. I needed to sort through it all.
It wasn’t until I heard the soft click of the door closing that I opened my eyes again.
And she was gone.
Sad Girl
Prim
EVERYTHING I’D EVER READ ABOUT heartbreak couldn’t begin to touch the splitting, tearing, ripping feeling in my chest. It worked its way into my muscles. Settled into my bones, shackled by the shame I welcomed.
I couldn’t erase the bottomless black expression in his eyes. It was there when I closed my eyes. Sneaking up on me in my dreams. An expression of pain I’d caused, which I deserved.
Because I was a fraud.
I’d thought I could waltz into Virago and make a name for myself under my terms. I’d thought I was strong enough to be a journalist. To dig for the truth and then write about it brazenly, not thinking of the cost. But I’d been so blindingly naive when it came to Grayson.
When it came to just about anything.
I’d told myself one lie after the other to get me through to the next day. Thinking there’d be some sort of solution waiting behind the curtain, only behind the curtain was a facade. A sham, like the great and powerful Oz.
Poppy found me in the nest of my shame I’d made on my couch after Hazel called her in for me on her behalf. She gathered me in her arms, holding me together as I fell apart. She curled up beside me as I wept for him. For us. For all those tiny moments we’d shared that were nothing more than rotting bones in a graveyard.
He’d said he needed time—that he still loved me—but even then, I wasn’t sure if he’d come back to me
. But Monica wanted him, too, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.
Not after my stupid deception.
I wanted to hope … God, I wanted to hope he meant it when he said it wasn’t over, but hope was a commodity I could no longer afford.
***
The next morning, I woke to the sun slashing through the darkness I’d sealed myself up in. Poppy moved around in the kitchen as she hummed to herself. My body ached all the way to my marrow. My head pulsed in thick waves at the base of my neck. I reached for my phone with little hope I’d see something from him.
I was right.
Nothing.
No tears surfaced. I thought I’d exhausted myself of them. All that came was the heat from the shame as it branded itself like a scarlet letter to my chest. All my self-doubt had led me there. Had torn apart the first real thing I ever felt, like a cancerous sore.
If only I had trusted myself. My instincts.
My gut.
I had a jar full of if-onlys.
***
“Come on. Get up.”
Poppy’s voice poked through my dream, followed by a sudden rush of cool air.
“You’ve done enough self-torture,” she continued, pulling my limp arms forward. “Any more crying, and you’ll turn into a puddle of saltwater.”
I groaned at the thought of having to go anywhere outside, of showing my face. If I couldn’t even face my own reflection, how could I look anyone else in the eye?
“I don’t want to hear it. As your best friend, I’ve given you an acceptable amount of time to feel sorry for yourself, but that time is up. So, come on. Get up and shower. We’ve got a date with a diner, and I refuse to go out with you looking like a nest of wild animals have taken up residence in that mop of yours.”
I touched at my hair and then shrugged in agreement. She was right. My hair was one Bob Marley song away from becoming dreadlocks.
“Fine. I’ll shower. But I don’t feel like going out.”
“Tough shit.”
By the way her hands were anchored on her hips, I could tell she wasn’t going to budge on the matter. I tugged in a long stream of oxygen, feeling it touch every crevice inside my lungs, every hollow spot, imagining it pushing out all the ugly of these last few days.
“Look, he said when he gets back, you guys will talk, right? You have to have faith in him. Don’t do what I did. Don’t … doubt him.”
“But what if he realizes he didn’t really feel anything for me? I mean, I hurt him, Poppy, in the worst way possible. I practically gift-wrapped him for Monica. What if he decides he can’t trust me ever again?”
She waved me off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Love doesn’t work like that. You don’t fall in and out that easily.” She paused. “He’s a guy, Prim. He has a sense of pride, and that was damaged when the article went live. He knows Quinn, and he knows you. Let him sort through it, and then you’ll see, everything is okay. And Monica who? He doesn’t want her. You know that.”
The first ray of sunlight poked through my heart. “You really think so?”
Her grin grew. “I know so. He loves you, Prim. Everything will work itself out, and you’ll get through this. One shove by me at a time.” To drive home that she meant it, she gave a light shove to my back. “Go on. Go get squeaky clean, my hopeless little pet.”
I tossed her a look but did as she’d said, feet dragging the entire way. Once I was under the warm spray of water, a long overdue sigh pressed past my lips. Though I wouldn’t admit it to her, a warm shower did wonders for a broken heart. With every scrub, I felt like I was washing away the scum of the past couple of days. A little more like myself, a little less like the lovesick zombie I’d become.
Poppy was bent over, staring at Newt when I returned. “He’s a creepy little fucker.” She emphasized her statement with a full-body shiver.
“Hey.” I bumped her aside with my hip. “Don’t talk about my Newty like that.”
“Newty?”
Reaching into his tank, I ran a finger down his back. “Yes. Newty.”
She peered at my hand as if it were diseased when I retracted it. “You’re going to wash that, right?”
I pumped a small bit of hand sanitizer in my hand and then wiggled my fingers at her. “All clean.”
The diner was only a block away from my apartment and packed with the morning rush. It had been days since I saw the sun. Felt its warmth against my skin. I felt like an entirely different person stepping out into the world. Everything appeared less shiny. Less propitious. It was like all the color had been removed from my eyes, dulling the world in monochrome hues.
“Come on,” Poppy said, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s get some real food in you.”
***
The next morning, I woke with a renewed sense of hope. Maybe things weren’t so grave. I loved Grayson and he loved me and we’d work through it. That was what love was, wasn’t it? Fighting for each other? Forgiving?
The anxiety I felt over seeing him was whirling out of control inside my chest, constricting it. Surely, he’d reach out soon enough, and we’d talk about our future. He’d hug me and tell me he forgave me, and I’d promise to never let anything come between us again.
As I sat at my kitchen table, talking to Poppy on the phone, sorting through my emails, a notification pinged on my Facebook. I’d been tagged by someone.
I clicked onto the notification and found a picture of Grayson standing outside of some hotel.
Only he wasn’t alone.
All the blood drained from my body as it sank in on itself.
Monica had her lips pressed against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her eyes closed tight, a smile practically beaming from the corners of her lips. I could only make out a portion of his face, but it was slightly blurry and not enough for me to read his expression.
The caption read, Is the serial dater recycling his playbook?
The floor flopped out from under me as all my fears towered over me like black shadows waiting to swallow me whole. I didn’t … I didn’t understand. He’d said we’d talk. He’d said …
I closed the link out with an eerie calm. Stared straight ahead, trying to keep the floodgates from opening.
“Prim … I saw it too. Are you …”
“I deserve this. It wasn’t real, Poppy. It never was.” I thought about the nights I’d lain in bed with him, running my fingers over his skin. Wishing I could kiss him one more time. The images faded away, dissolving like tissue paper submerged in water.
“Fucking prick. Who does he think he is?”
“Grayson Pierce. Serial dater.” I stood, the ache in my chest deepening.
“Are you going to call him?”
“Why would I? You’ve seen the picture. The entire world has seen it. There’s no reason to ask him what’s going on when it’s plainly clear. His lips on another woman’s says it all.”
Did it though? Judging him as I’d done before I knew him hadn’t been fair. So, why allow myself to judge him again before I knew the truth?
“I can come over, and we can make a voodoo doll of him. Poke him in the balls a few times for fun.” I could hear the strain in her voice. She wanted to make me laugh, but somewhere deep in her heart, she knew it was a lost cause.
“Maybe another time. I’m feeling tired, Poppy. I think … I think I’ll go to sleep.”
“Okay.” The word sounded sad.
We hung up.
Pulling the blanket over my head, I stared at the screen of my phone. At the pictures I’d taken of us in bed. On his roof. At the library. Regret made a home inside my chest.
For one fleeting moment in my life, I’d known what love felt like. I’d discovered the importance of hope.
I’d lost it.
I’d lost it all.
The Media Devil
Grayson
THE CITY AIR SCORCHED UNDERNEATH the sun beating down on me.
A mirror of the way I felt on the inside.
; Heated and writhing. My skull felt like it had cracked in two, but I welcomed the pain as I paced through the city.
I knew what the tabloids had said. What the article had said. The picture that had circulated, spreading lies. Tearing into the one person I loved most.
The moment I had been cornered by Monica outside of the hotel we stayed at, I should have known something was awry.
“Hey,” she said, a slippery smile on her face. “I read that article your girlfriend wrote about you. Ouch.”
“I have to go, Monica, or I’ll miss my flight,” I said, trying to get around her.
I was set on seeing Prim. On fixing things.
She moved in front of my path, blocking me. “We both know writing about you is a big no-no.” She stepped closer. Ran a finger over my arm. “I meant what I said at the gala. I can help take your mind off her if you’d like.”
Every nerve in my body stiffened with alertness. “And I meant what I said last night when I told you, I don’t want to take her off my mind.” I removed her finger from my stinging flesh.
Her mouth fell slightly ajar.
I tried once again to head toward the row of taxis, only to have her block me.
“You really have changed, haven’t you?”
I glanced down at her hand with a frown.
“Why her?” she called as I started to walk away. “What’s so special about her?”
“Because I love her.” It was as simple as that.
She jolted. “You don’t know the first thing about love, Grayson Pierce. I gave you my heart, and you stomped on it.”
“Your heart? You were the one who said it would be nothing more than a little fun to pass the time, or did you forget that?” My head shook as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. “Where is this even coming from? That was years ago. Let it go already.”
Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1) Page 26