Page 19 of Don’t Look Back

“Just stop,” I begged. “Please stop. I got the answer I came here for, and now I’m over it. You got bored. I can’t do anything about that.”

“We’ve been through so much together, this is no different.”

I clenched my hands into fists to hide how they shook. I’d lived the worst two weeks of my life, and she just wanted to throw it behind us and forget.

I thought I would feel differently when she showed up, and it may have said something about me that I didn’t but I didn’t care. When I lifted my gaze to hers and saw the crocodile tears there, I didn’t feel a single thing for her.

“This is different,” I said. “It’s different because you left and ended our nine-year relationship with a text message, Grace! This isn’t one of your T.V. dramas. This is real life. You don’t always get to start over when you’ve made a mistake. I know I’m not the most emotional person you’ve ever met but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. You can’t just waltz your way back in because you realized you messed up.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. What I was about to say I was still trying to admit to myself, but I wanted Grace to leave me alone. I wanted the conversation to be over, and I didn’t want to see her anymore.

“I’m interested in someone,” I blurted.

Grace’s eyes widened. “Y-you are? Who is she?”

I didn’t correct her. I couldn’t—even if I did trust her at some point in my life.

“It’s new. I don’t want to say too much just yet. Besides, that gives you the chance to go and screw it up.”

“Why? Because I’m biased and I don’t want you to fall in love with her?” Grace scoffed. She threw herself against the back of the booth, crossing her arms. With a disbelieving laugh, she shook her head. “Oh my God. It's Charlie, isn’t it? You two were always way too close.”

“It’s none of your business who it is,” I silenced my phone again. “I didn’t tell you so I could get your approval. I told you because you shut the door on our relationship, and I need to be the one to keep it that way. I can’t let you back in Grace.”

Another phone call right away, making me pull my phone from my pocket to check it–Ryan, and the texts that came along with it were even more alarming than back-to-back calls. “I’m sorry,” I said to her. “This conversation is over.”

I stood up, dropped some cash on the table for Grace’s coffee, and left. I didn’t stop to look at her. I knew that she would just try and rope me in with her tears, or try to say the right thing, or God forbid continue spitting lies until I believed her and told her to come home.

It wasn’t her home anymore.

Glancing down at my phone, my brows furrowed at the 911 text.

I had to call a few times before he picked up, which concerned me. When he finally did answer, his voice was weak.

“I’m sorry. I was in the middle of… never mind. What’s going on?”

I was already in the driver’s seat of my truck with the key in the ignition. I watched Grace as she left the diner. I was hoping she wouldn’t look to her left and see me. To my complete disbelief, she walked right, and straight into the arms of… Sawyer fucking Huxley, who was leaving a convenience store, drying his hands on his shirt.

He opened his arms, and I ripped my gaze away. I couldn't bear seeing him wrap them around her.

“Oh my God, she is unbelievable,” I muttered to no one in particular.

“I-I’m sorry, Jason, I told myself I would give you time before calling but I just… I…” Was he throwing up? “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”

With my good hand, I white-knuckled the steering wheel, watching Sawyer and Grace walk away hand in hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your help. I can’t call anyone else.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in my bathroom at home. No one else is here and I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I was already out of my parking spot and speeding toward him. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Grace’s head swivel around to watch my truck drive past. I didn’t dare look behind me, didn’t dare to see if they were watching. My head was on one thing and one thing only: Ryan.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When I was in high school, we used to race on the main strip that ran through the middle of town to see who could get from one side to the other the fastest. I never won—I was too much of a goody two-shoes. After Ryan called me, however, I would have left my classmates in the dust.