The Bet: A Bully Romance(36)

She's breathing hard, each breath labored while her hands are pressed to her chest, her big blues wide and full of fear when she notices me standing there staring at her.

“What's wrong?” I scan the room for something, anything that would explain her outburst of fear, but there's nothing to be found, it’s just us in here.

“Just a bad dream.” She blinks herself out of what seems to be a trance, her voice shaky and weak. I close the door behind me and cross the room until I’m standing next to the bed. I turn on the bedside lamp and watch as she scoots up to the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest in the process.

“Are you coming to tell me our truce is over? That you’re back to hating me?” Her voice is trembling, and I can’t stand to see her in such an anxious state.

“I’m not going to torment you anymore. I’m done fighting, Jules. I’m done. I don’t care anymore. You’re here and you aren’t going anywhere, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there is nothing I can do to change that. So please, don’t worry anymore. I can’t stand to see you so anxious, so worried. I won’t hurt you anymore...I’ll stop trying to break your heart like you broke mine.”

Her big blue eyes fill with tears, but her relaxed facial expression tells me she’s thankful for my words, for my apology.

“I didn’t…I mean… I wasn’t trying to break your heart.”

“Just…” My tongue feels heavy and I scrub a hand down my face, trying to gather the strength I need to talk to her about this.

“Let me finish and then you can say whatever you want.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, playing with a string on her t-shirt.

“I’ve never hated you. I know I said I did, and I know I treated you like I did, but I don’t think I’ve ever really hated you. I hated that you left, and I had no one to blame but you, but I didn’t hate you. I couldn’t.”

I lick my lips, and continue, “The truth is I hated myself for a long time for letting you go like I did. For not trying. The day my mother left, it killed me, but I had you. You were there to hold me up, keep me together, and then suddenly you were gone too, and I had no one. It felt like my entire world was crumbling.”

My voice cracks and I feel every single emotion I’ve tried to swallow down over the last three years rising to the surface. My gaze stays trained to the floor. I can’t look at her right now. I just fucking can’t.

“I didn’t know...I mean...I knew but…” There’s a rustling of sheets, and then a second later her hand is cupping my cheek, forcing my head up and my eyes to meet hers.

“You didn’t know?” I question, my voice deeper, my eyes bleeding into hers, searching for the answer to my question, an answer I know that lies deep inside her.

How couldn’t she know? I didn’t go on any dates with girls that asked me out...I never even had sex with someone, not until after she left. I was saving myself for her, waiting until she was ready, and I would’ve waited an entire fucking lifetime if I had to.

The look on her face is doleful. “I didn’t realize you wanted more until it was too late.”

There it is the proverbial slap. The confession.

“That’s bullshit, Jules,” I growl bitterly.

“No, it’s not. I was afraid, Remington. Afraid that I would lose you, my best friend. I was afraid if we crossed that line, if we jumped off the edge and it didn’t work out, that you would be gone forever. I was afraid of losing you…and then I lost you anyway so I guess it wouldn’t have mattered.”

She was afraid...fucking afraid.

I can’t even grasp onto the words that she just said.

“I loved you, Jules. I fucking loved you. Every single piece of you was embedded into my skin, and when you left a part of me died. I became bitter, angry, so fucking angry, and I’m still angry, but I’ve come to realize that the reason I’m this way has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes tearfully, and I retreat a step, watching as her hand falls into the air.

“Me too,” I mutter, feeling like I might break down. I keep walking backward until my back hits the wall, and then I slide down it, holding my head in my hands.

I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.





Chapter Fourteen




Jules





I don’t know if I should go to him or stay seated on the bed. He looks as devastated as I feel. And yet all I can think about is wrapping him up in my arms and asking him if he still loves me. I want him to still love me. The need to go to him is so overwhelming I find my body moving toward his as if it’s on autopilot and something I’m meant to do.

I move to where he’s sitting against the wall and slide down it, pressing my side against his. I can hear how heavy he’s breathing, his hands are gripping angrily at the long strands of glossy brown hair.

“Rem?” I whisper, turning toward him. He doesn’t say anything. His body seeping with tension. When I came here today, I didn’t expect for this to happen. I was certain I would leave here with tears in my eyes, and I think I still might. I don’t know if Remington is okay, if he’s mad at me, at himself, at us.

He’s not speaking and I’m starting to freak out a little.