Crushed (Torn #7)(22)

It was, and I was honestly glad he was here with me.

“Thank you. Thank you for that and your kind words. You have no idea how good that just made me feel.” No one, not even Trista, could understand what it was to be in this position.

Done with our cozy dinner, Carter did the gentlemanly thing by taking the couch while I took over his bed. I was actually surprised he didn’t join his friends and party outside. It gave me a glimpse of the new Carter—the tortured one. This new version had a soul, had intense depth, and I couldn’t help having more respect now that I understood where he was in life, his pain, thanks to this odd sense of camaraderie with him.

He was a friend, and I was happy I had found someone who understood me without undermining my decisions or my inexplicable pain.

A

The next day, freshly showered with my wet hair in a loose bun, I donned some casual, denim short shorts and a peach-hued loose top then tiptoed out of the room to find Carter still fast asleep on the couch.

Upon entering the kitchen, I was surprised to see Brody there, about to make a pot of coffee.

“Well, look at you, looking fresh as a daisy!” His comment was made with a barb, coming off unfriendly.

I stilled, but instead of throwing back shade, I clashed my eyes with his. “Your eyes are red … very red.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t sleep.”

Obviously. It was a miracle I got any sleep at all knowing what the hell was going on in the house. Thankfully, I did get rested sleep.

“Well, maybe you should head to bed, then, ‘cause you look like you’re about to pass out.”

He threw me a hurtful look, as if he was pissed and saddened at the same time. “Can you blame me, Amber? You’re the one who decided to barge in here and f*uk with my head.”

I blinked a few times, perplexed, before I found the wherewithal to speak. “What? You think that’s what I’m here for?”

He was insane.

He didn’t move, didn’t blink. Instead of addressing what I had just said, what came out of his mouth threw me for a loop.

“So how were the newlyweds?” he stonily asked, drawled with pure acid.

Damn, he wanted to go there. Okay, then.

“Good … you know … They’re the same as usual.” As usual, I wanted to jab it in, but I chose to answer it in a less cruel way since he was hurting. It was plastered all over him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. I knew Brody well.

Something flashed in his eyes before he made a cruel smirk. “I wouldn’t know,” he said.

He resumed his task of making coffee, busying himself with measuring the coffee grounds, pouring chilled water into the water panel, and then pressing the start button for it to begin brewing. Only then did he finally resort to looking back at where I remained unmoved from my spot, somewhat mesmerized by him doing menial chores.

“She lied and kept a secret about being married to him while I was with her.”

Immense sadness filled me. I was sad for myself, for him, and the unchangeable situation itself. Personal emotions aside, I understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, I couldn’t ignore the hurt that was constantly stabbing my heart each time I saw him, knowing full well he would never be mine.





“Time heals all wounds. It may take a very long time to get there, but you will get there eventually,” I meekly stated, hoping my words would enlighten him.

“You’re certainly very optimistic,” he said with a sneer.

“In a way, I am. I guess the vacation in Greece showed me there’s more to life than sulking.” And being in love with someone who couldn’t care less what I was feeling, I silently added.

It wounded me to think that, but it was the truth. Though I felt bad for the both of us, I didn’t want to ruin the rest of my life by sulking about the fact that there were just some things in life we would never get to have. It was how the world worked. Sometimes, it was best to learn to accept it, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

“Two weeks, huh?” he muttered, scratching the side of his chin as he gave me a serious look. “So, when did you and Carter start hooking up?” Instead of giving me a chance to explain, he kept going with his rant and combative words. “He’s probably too f*uked up about seeing Emma so happy and shit. That’s why he had to f*uk you—to forget her.”

What. The. f*uk! Did that really just come out of his mouth?

“Wow. You’re on a roll this morning, and it’s not even past ten o’clock.”

“I’m just saying, in case you’re thinking he might dig your crazy and that you guys might have a chance longevity wise.”

Pressing my lips together, I tried to compose myself. “Thanks for the great advice, Brody.” He was serving his dish cold and heartless. Okay, I got him loud and clear. “You’re such a great friend.”

“Right.”

For a moment, I had some hesitation. Should I remain after he just stabbed me in the front and back, or should I simply leave? After all, being around his shitty mood wasn’t going to do anything but f*uk my day up. He was a big *, no doubt about that. So, why the f*uk should I be around him when he wasn’t doing me any good?

My decision made, I spun around to retrace my steps then heard him from behind.