Page 81 of Examining the Bond

He folds his hands on the desk, indicating that he’s as done with this conversation as I am.

“Thanks so much for everything,” I say with a touch of sarcasm. I don't stick around long enough to see if he catches it.

I kick back my chair as I rise, flashing the three of them a sickly-sweet smile before turning my back and making for the door.

I just have to hold it in.Hold in my need to scream until I get back to my room, then I can let it all out again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

SKYLAR

My muscles scream as I push my body to its breaking point, my heart pounding hard as I try to forget everything outside these basement walls.

Sweat soaks my skin after over an hour of intense cardio, drenching my sports bra and shorts. I hop off the treadmill and immediately move to grab a fifty-pound dumbbell off the rack. I stand in front of the wall-length mirror, holding the weight above my head with both hands, doing my best to ignore the pained expression on my face.

I lower the weight behind my head, then extend my arms up again, working my triceps until they feel like they’re going to rip in half. I keep going, pushing harder, longer, doing more reps than I should. I’m doing everything I can to focus on my body and not the incessant ache in my chest.

After overhead tricep extensions, I grab another weight and move to the workout bench. I plop down, my sweaty back sliding against the cushion, and start a set of chest flys.

Strong push up, resist down, stop low so my shoulder muscles ache enough for me to groan. Every rep stretches the muscle over my heart, and it stings just a little bit more.

I don’t think I’ve ever whimpered in my life, but I’ve never hurt this much either. Despite the countless breakups I’ve been through, it never felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Like it had been torn to pieces in front of me.

This pain is like venom in my veins, poisoning me, forcing me to submit. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I can’t move on. It’s like my entire life slammed to a halt when Riann left, taking part of me with her.

The worst part? I can’t even buck up the courage to message her.

What would I say?

I’m sorry you haven’t heard from me at all. I’m just a giant coward who wanted to let you move on with your life.

The thought alone has my stomach turning.

Every time I try to picture Riann with another alpha, it’s like swallowing shards of glass that threaten to shred my insides into ribbons. I want it to stop; there’s no sense in pining for someone I can’t have.

But no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to distract myself, she’s there, haunting my mind. The ghost of what could have been.

I groan at the twin aches in my shoulders and my chest, unsure which pain hurts the most.

Love bloomed so quickly between us. Maybe it was natural that it exploded just as fast. The pressure of whirlwind romance, with nothing able to stop us, sent us hurtling toward destruction.

Maldita suerte…

I'm fifty reps in and my body is on fire, screaming for me to stop, but I can’t. Not until I beat back the sadness that keeps trying to smother me. If I can just focus on my burning muscles, maybe I can stop seeing Riann’s shocked face as she asked me to leave. Maybe I can stop hearing her words in my head on repeat. Maybe I’ll stop reliving the moment I decided to turn and walk away.

I shouldn’t have given up so easily; I should have tried harder.

I should have stayed and proved how much I fucking love her.

Starting another lift, I grit my teeth as I push myself ever closer to my breaking point, trying in vain to drown out the pain. When my body starts to tremble with exhaustion, I'm tempted to collapse on the gym floor and sleep there. It's no less than I deserve after everything.

Instead, I force myself upstairs to shower. I barely have enough energy to scrub my body, but I make quick work of it, before flopping butt naked onto my king-size bed. I lay there, hoping sleep will take me, just so I'll get a tiny reprieve from the thoughts in my head.

No such luck.

Despite the hours of exercise, the countless reps that pushed me to the brink, my mind is restless. I groan, scrubbing my hands over my face as the sound echoes through the silent house.

Knowing there's only one thing that might take the edge off—and knowing damn well what a horrible idea it is—I reach into my nightstand and pull out a Ziploc bag. Tearing it open, I pull out Riann’s tank top and hastily bring it to my nose, breathing in deep.