I slammed my front door, kicked off my shoes and stumbled in a messy, sobbing state to the sofa. Why did it feel like my insides were falling out and my lungs were constricting? How could a feeling affect you physically?
There was a knock on my door after twenty minutes of crying my heart out. I ached for it to be Damon. Dragging myself off the sofa and to the door, I yanked it open to see Chloe smiling sadly back at me.
She gasped so I knew I looked like absolute shit. “Nell, come here,” she said, wrapping me up in a big hug. I fell into her, sobbing on her shoulder. Chlo was good enough to let me get tears and mascara all over her nice cream jumper and not bitch at me over it.
A few minutes later, I let go of her and ran my hands over my face. “Sorry,” I muttered. I didn’t break down, especially not in front of humans, so I was embarrassed that Chloe had seen me like that.
“Don’t be silly.” She sighed. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
“He called you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Nelly.”
I shrugged and closed the front door. “Not your fault,” I replied, leading her into the living room. Great my messy mascara face was all over my cute sage scatter cushion too. Damon owed me new soft furnishings.
Curling up on the sofa, I hugged my ruined cushion. “I don’t like missing him,” I whispered.
Chlo tilted her head to the side and her long, straight hair fell in front of her shoulder. “You don’t have to miss him. That’s the part I’m still unclear on, Nell. Anyone can see how you feel about the guy so why are you denying what you both want?”
“You know you sound a lot like me when you were running from Logan last year.”
She licked her lip. “Yes, I do. I was terrified because I’d fallen in love with my dead boyfriend’s brother. What’s your excuse, sweetie?”
“Jace wasn’t dead,” I grumbled, picking on the one thing that didn’t make this about my issues.
“Thank God. Though that doesn’t change the facts, I thought he was dead and when he turned up it only added to the problems. You’re not getting out of this. Talk to me and maybe I can help.”
“No one can help.”
I – we – needed help years ago.
“You’re scaring me. Are you in trouble? Did something happen? Nell, I need to know.”
“Nothing happened. I wasn’t beaten or abused. I’ve just seen a lot of marriages turn to shit and I’m not about to enter into that. Can we not talk about it tonight, please? I either need to eat a lot of junk or get blind drunk. You choose.”
“I’ll get the chocolate.”
Damn, I was hoping for the other one.
I pressed the cushion into my stomach as she got up and went to the kitchen. Everything still ached. I was so done with that feeling already and just wanted it over with now.
“Here,” Chloe said, coming back with a tub of ice cream, a large bar of Cadburys and box of Malteasers. “Will these make you feel better?”
I glared. “They should.” They wouldn’t. I wasn’t quite dumb enough to believe that getting over Damon just took a little – or a lot – of sugar. But it was a good start. I would follow what they did in movies: eat junk food and drink booze.
“If you’re going to be like that you can leave. I don’t need to hear how much of a twat I am, Chloe, I already know it.”
“I love you, Nell, and I’m never going to judge you. But you totally have the power to un-twat yourself right now and other people messing up isn’t a good enough reason. You know full well that you control your own life, you’ve been doing it for long enough. You’re not your parents, you’re uniquely bloody stubborn and no one is going to make you change into something you don’t want to be.”
I understood logic perfectly well – I wasn’t broken – but I couldn’t separate that from what I’d been through. If someone would like to give me a pill to change that, then be my bloody guest. I’d take it gladly.
“Take a few days and see if things are clearer then.”
Things were perfectly clear now. I knew what I wanted but I didn’t know how to have it. Shit, I needed a shrink, like yesterday.
“Yeah,” I said, conceding so we could move on for a while. “So, what did he say when he called?”
“He just explained that he told you he wants more and you can’t so you’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“How did he sound?” I asked.
“What do you want me to say to that?”
“The truth. I always want the truth from you.”
“He sounded crushed.”
I couldn’t help the little gasp of pain at hearing how much I’d hurt him – it killed me. Every instinct told me to protect him, to make it better. It was hard to fight what I wanted to do, right down to my bones. I wouldn’t forgive myself for hurting him but I could live with it a hell of a lot easier knowing we’d never become what I witnessed growing up.
“Oh, Nelly. I hate to see you like this. Do you think you should talk to him and see if you can work something out?”