I might do that soon.
Thumping his head against the headrest, he sighs. “Then, can we skip to the part where we’re together again?”
“Come on, you know we can’t do that.”
Closing his eyes, he looks down, his fists clenched by his sides. “This is awful, Tex. For both of us. Fucking hell, just let me back in. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. There’s nothing we can’t sort out, but you’re acting like this is irreparable. I don’t get it.”
“No, you don’t! That’s exactly why I can’t pretend like the last few weeks haven’t happened.”
“Well, you’re not telling me! How am I supposed to get on the same page if I don’t even know what fucking book you’re reading from?”
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know,” I snap. “See? This is why we don’t work, why we will never work.”
He sucks in a breath that makes my heart drop. His eyes are full of pain. Tears well at the sides, and I want to die.
What have you done?
“Kitt…I…”
“You should go,” he says breathlessly, gripping the door handle for dear life. “I need you to go.”
I don’t want to go. I want to take my words back, but I can’t. They’re out there now, and nothing will change that. Nothing will change that look on his face when I broke his heart.
“Please, Kitt, I didn’t mean…” I wipe a tear from my face and shuffle closer.
I want to touch him, but he’s breathing heavily and staring straight forward. I’m scared that if I reach out, I’ll break him.
“If you feel anything for me, Texas, please do what I asked. I need you to leave,” he whispers. His voice is low and rough.
Usually, I love that, but right now, it’s laced with pain. He’s hanging on by a thread.
Without looking, I reach for the door handle. I hate myself. Shoving the door open, I get out, slam it shut, and sprint for my car, holding my stomach so that I don’t come apart. I can’t even go back inside and tell Coop I’m taking off.
My knees buckle under the weight of guilt and heartache, and I fall against the door of Jennifer’s spare car. “No,” I cry, feeling like my legs are made of lead.
“Texas?”
Cooper is by my side in an instant, holding me up. “Damn it, what happened?”
I grip his arms, pulling him closer, and I cry. I can’t hold it in. I can’t be strong anymore. I sob and bury my head in his chest. “It hurts, Cooper. It hurts so much that I think I’m dying.”
He holds me tight and kisses the top of my head. “No, you’re not. It’s going to be okay. What did he say?”
I shake my head. “It was me. I hurt him, and—oh my God, what did I do? I can’t stand it, Cooper.” My chest shakes, and I feel so, so heavy.
“Shh, it’s not your fault. Maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have sprung it on you.”
“I told him that we’d never work.”
Coop rubs my back. “Do you mean that?”
I pull back and take stuttered breaths.
Just keep breathing. In and out. Just get yourself home, and it’ll be fine. Hold it together a little longer.
How could I have let things get so out of hand?
“Tex?” he says, frowning.
Cooper raises me up on my wobbly legs. He keeps his arms extended in case I fall again, but I won’t let myself.
“I need to go, Coop,” I sob, shaking my head and holding my stomach tight.
All you have to do is get in the car and drive home. You can drive. You’re fine. You’re fine.
And maybe if I tell myself I’m okay often enough, I’ll believe it.
That’s a thing, right? People start to believe all sorts of shit if it’s repeated over and over again.
You. Will. Get. Through. This.
KITT
TUESDAY, AUGUST 4
OXFORD, ENGLAND
It took a good four hours to stop feeling like her words cut me to pieces. She didn’t mean it. We’re not over, and that scares her, so she lashed out. Texas wants to be able to control her emotions when it comes to me, but it’s impossible. We can’t be controlled.
Cooper took her home, to her dad’s, and I went back to the flat that I share with the guys. Tex and I should be looking at Rightmove now, searching for a home together.
I couldn’t leave things, so I went to her house.
Mark stares at me, like he wants to tell me to do one. Not happening. I’m not leaving.
“I need to see her.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, Kitt, but my daughter was brought home in tears and—”
“Yeah, I know. I’m here to fix it and show her that she’s being stupid.”
His eyebrows flick up.
“She’s stubborn, but so am I.”
Sighing deeply like it hurts, he steps aside, and I walk in.
“I don’t want to see you putting any more tears in my daughter’s eyes.”
“Neither do I.” Turning, I take the stairs two at a time. I tap on her door and count the seconds. One, two, three— She opens the door, and her eyes widen.