Never Sweeter (Dark Obsession #1)(75)

“Then let me do it for you.”

She was firm now—so firm that Letty couldn’t imagine saying no. Though even if she had she wasn’t sure it would have had any effect. Lydia was already grabbing her laptop out of her bag and settling herself down on Letty’s desk chair. Feet up on the bed, fingers flying over the keys. It took her all of thirty seconds to bring up his email provider and fill in the details Letty provided.

Then it was just thirty seconds more of agonized attempts at reading her friend’s expression. Was it a yes? Was it a no? But more important: which one was the answer she wanted to hear?

It didn’t feel like either in those few moments.

It felt like she was sinking deep into a mess of her own creation.

And she was right to have that feeling, too.

“It’s his account. Password works. Plus there’s a subscription here to burger-of-the-month club and an order for a T-shirt bearing the legend ONLY DICKS CALL THEM CHICK FLICKS, so I think it’s safe for us to call this one.”

“He does really love burgers. And hates people calling them chick flicks.”

“I remember when the cafeteria had those sliders. I’ve never known anyone get so excited over what is essentially just bread and meat. I think he ate twenty-seven of them. In one bite.”

“I found twelve more wrapped in a napkin in his bedside drawer.”

She meant to lighten the mood a little with that confession.

Though somehow it just had the opposite effect.

“I f*cked up, didn’t I?”

“We don’t know that for sure yet. He could have sent those pictures to other emails, too.”

“Which is also something we could easily check.”

“So let’s do it, then. Just tell me what I need to be looking at.”

“His other account is [email protected].”

“Remind me to tell you that’s cute if he turns out to be a good guy.”

“I will. Probably while crying some more and cramming comfort cheese into my mouth.”

There was a pause as Lydia typed. Fast but not too fast, like she didn’t want to seem eager.

And then she found what she was looking for, and couldn’t hide it. Her eyes darted across the screen, taking all of something in. Taking a lot of something in.

Then finally, “Well. You should probably get out the good stuff. Maybe a nice brie or a block of Parmesan.”

“Is it that bad? Or that good? Or both together; I don’t know.”

“Brace yourself.”

“Just tell me, okay? What are you looking at?”

“Emails. Dozens and dozens of emails. From right after your accident.”

“Dozens of emails? No—there was one, there was just one. He only sent one and it was awful.”

“Yeah. I know. But the rest…I think you need to hear the rest. Here: “So I guess your dad or whatever has blocked me. Well, he can go f*ck himself, too. Who the f*ck did he think he was telling me that I wasn’t welcome? Didn’t I f*cking drive you to the hospital? Was that like not enough to show that I didn’t have anything to do with that dumb f*ck’s sudden decision to ram you off a f*cking cliff? Because you know I didn’t at all. I didn’t even know what he was going to do all—”

She held up a hand before Lydia could go any further, partly relieved that she hadn’t so drastically misjudged him. Partly sad, that everything was just the way she had thought. He might not have sent that video to other people, but he had said she deserved it. And he’d kept saying it, apparently, over several emails.

“Okay stop. Stop. This was a stupid idea. I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I think you should probably just listen to the next one.”

“The next one where he starts complaining about my mom, too?”

“No. The next one where he says: okay so I f*cked up. I know that I f*cked up, too. I should have guessed he was getting out of control and, like, stopped him, but I just f*cking didn’t, all right? It would have been a totally dumb thing to say: please don’t actively harm the person we shit on all the time. And every time I tried to bring it up he just laughed about it so obviously I didn’t think he’d push you off a f*cking cliff. Jesus. Cut me some slack.”

Lydia looked at her over the edge of the laptop when she was done.

Maybe to see what damage she was doing. Maybe because she knew she was doing no damage at all.

“Well…I guess that’s better.”

“Just wait. Just wait, God there’s so much more. Listen: “I don’t know why I asked you to cut me some slack in that last email. You can’t hear me. You’re not holding any noose around my neck. So how come it f*cking feels that way, huh? Why does it feel like I can’t breathe all the time and like I want to scream but I can’t because I’m being f*cking strangled? I don’t even know what I’m being strangled by.

“Some days, I wonder if it’s my own hands.”

Letty closed her eyes about halfway through the words Lydia was reading.

It was easier that way to hear it. To just let her continue reading the email after that, like it was all just one big essay he’d written on the subject of her and him.

Why We Hurt Each Other, she thought.

Then Do It Again.