Page 243 of Tell Me Something True

Denial churning through him, he opened the door. Took the stairs two at a time then slammed to a stop at the landing.

The door was open.

His breathing grew choppy as he forced himself to step into the kitchen. Half the cupboard doors were open, showing they were empty. The counters were bare. He flew through the living room and burst into her bedroom. Her bed had been stripped of its sheets, the pillows missing. The top of her dresser was cleared off, the drawers and closet empty. All her toiletries were gone.

Feeling like he was stuck in a nightmare, reliving one of the worst days of his life again, he walked into the living room like a zombie. His legs threatened to give out, but he refused to sit on the ratty couch where less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d fucked him so thoroughly.

Instead, he steadied himself with a hand on her coffee table and lowered himself slowly to the floor. Sat there, head bent, his arms covering his face, hands fisted in his hair, his body trembling as he tried to stave off the panic rising in his chest. Cutting off his breath.

She’d left him.

Again.

Just like he’d been afraid of.

He never should have trusted her. Never should have given her another chance.

Never should have believed her promises.

“You lied.”

He squeezed his arms tighter over his head at the sound of Kat’s voice. Wished he could ignore it. Ignore her.

Wished like hell she wasn’t standing there watching him lose his fucking shit.

Letting go of his hair, he lowered his arms. Turned his head to see Kat leaning against the doorframe separating the kitchen and living room. “What?”

He was still breathing hard, his head buzzing. Her expression didn’t change, but she turned and opened the fridge. Grabbed a bottle of water then crossed to crouch in front of him.

“You lied,” she repeated, twisting the cap off the water before handing it to him.

His hands shook so hard, water sloshed out of the opening and onto his jeans, but he was able to lift the bottle to his mouth. Take an unsteady sip.

And then her words sank in and he slowly lowered the bottle. Frowned. What the hell? “I didn’t lie.”

“You said you trusted Tabitha, but that’s clearly not true.” Standing, she looked down at him, her gaze watchful. Shrugged. “You. Lied.”

He blinked at her, his head slowly clearing, his breathing slowing.

But his heart kept right on racing.

Kept right on breaking.

“She left,” he ground out. “Without a word. Without a goodbye.”

She tipped her head to the side, studied him like a squashed bug under a microscope. “And you’re certain you did nothing to push her away?”

His eyes narrowed. His hand tightened on the bottle and more water splashed onto his jeans. “I didn’t do a goddamn thing.”

“Well, then, maybe her leaving had nothing to do with you,” Kat said with a quiet intensity that had the hair on his arms standing on end. “Maybe something happened to her that scared her or made her feel like the only way she could survive it was to leave. And maybe she didn’t say goodbye because she didn’t know how you’d react if you found out, and that scared her even more.”

He remembered the sincerity in Tabitha’s eyes last night as she apologized. As she promised she’d never walk away like this again.

Hoping for things to be different had never worked for me before. I’d always end up heartbroken and disappointed, so I knew I couldn’t trust it.

The memory combined with Kat’s words was like a rough shake, waking him from the dreamlike space he’d been in. The one where only he and his pain existed. Where his pride was safe. Where he was right.

Where he could stay a coward.

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