Page 16 of Broken Hearts

I was his so completely then, and the dark, broken part of me still is and probably always will be. This part is my cautionary tale, one that might fester but that I will hold on to.

The night wears on, and I find myself unable to sleep. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying the confrontation with Cole, the memories of our past, and the uncertainties of my future. I know I need to be strong, to stand my ground against whatever he has planned. He thinks he can control me, break me, but I’m not the same girl I once was. I’ve grown, evolved, and I won’t let him drag me back into the darkness.

Chapter 8

Cole

I stumble into my apartment, blood trickling from my nose, a cocktail of anger, hurt, and, strangely, pride swirling inside me. Yeah, the irony isn’t lost on me. I’m actually proud of Eva’s strength, her ability to throw me off, physically and metaphorically. It’s a testament to the fighter she is, a quality I’ve always admired, even when it’s used against me.

The place is empty, luckily. I’m not in the mood for twenty questions from the guys or for them to see me like this, beaten down and pissed off.

As I head to the bathroom, Eva’s defiance replays in my mind. She changed the tattoo—our tattoo. It was supposed to be a symbol of us, of her being mine. But she’s trying to erase it, to erase us. How dare she try to obliterate the history, the connection, everything we were and still are, and everything I know we will be? She's trying to scrub away our past, but erasing our history isn't that simple. We’re not done, not by a long shot.

I splash cold water on my face to clean the blood. The sting is a welcome distraction from what’s really eating at me. Seeing my reflection, the evidence of tonight's clash with Eva, is almost comical. She’s always been fiery, but now she's pushing back harder than ever. It’s infuriating, and yet, it ignites something in me, a grudging respect mixed with an intense desire.

Deep down, I know it's more than just a phase or some failed prom revenge. She is not fickle or dramatic, and she laughed off that theory. I sit on the tub’s edge, head in hands. I wanted to stir something up in her, ignite some old spark. Instead, all I got was a stronger pushback.

There’s a part of me, a dark, twisted part, that relishes the challenge. I’ve always loved her fire, her spirit. Yet now, it’s like she’s using it against me, I can’t help but want her more. She’s not the Eva I knew, and that’s both infuriating and incredibly attractive.

Getting up, I look back at my reflection – the determination to claim back what’s mine plain on my face. There's a need to strategize, to figure out how to reconnect with this new version of Eva. She might think she's erased me from her past, but we're intertwined in ways deeper than she acknowledges.

Lying in bed, I can't sleep. My mind's a mess – anger, desire, memories, and a whole lot of confusion about the future. Eva might think she’s pushed me away, but I know better. We’re bound together in ways she can’t even begin to understand.

I want her to remember the man she once looked at like he was her Prince Charming. That guy is still here, underneath it all. There's a misunderstanding between us, something I can't fully grasp. But giving up on her? Not happening.

She’s under my skin, a part of me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of that. I might have messed up tonight, but this isn't the end. It's just another twist in our story; a story that I’m determined to continue, no matter what it takes. We're not done, not even close.

Waking up feels like a drag. With barely any sleep, my eyes feel heavy, my body aches, and my mood? Let’s just say it’s on the wrong side of cranky. I trudge downstairs, each step a reminder of last night’s fiasco.

Ethan and Liam are already up, engaged in some low-key conversation. They both look up as I enter, and Liam’s expression shifts to something like disapproval. Great, just what I need.

“What’s with your face?” Liam asks bluntly.

Rolling my eyes, I retort, “Wow, harsh, dude. Do you hear me talk about your ugly face?”

Liam snorts, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ugly? Bro, I’m stunning, and we both know that.”

A short, reluctant laugh escapes me despite the circumstances. Trust Liam to be full of himself, even at times like this. It’s oddly comforting, a slice of normalcy in the whirlwind that’s become my life.

Slumping into a chair, I rub the bridge of my nose wearily.

Liam’s eyebrow arches, his usual nonchalant attitude taking a back seat to a more paternal concern. “Seriously, mate, you look like hell. What happened?”

Hesitation creeps in, weighing how much to divulge. They’re my friends, sure, but this situation with Eva… it’s a mess, and frankly, I’m not up for Liam’s “perfect man” lecture right now.

Settling on a half-truth, I exhale softly. “Let’s just say I had a… disagreement,” the response remains intentionally vague.

Ethan looks at me, skeptical. “A disagreement that left you with a bloody nose and a black eye?”

“You should see the other guy,” I quip, attempting a weak joke.

Liam rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Col—”

Cutting him off, I change the subject. “What were you ladies gossiping about?”

“Ethan’s decided to help Poppy channel her anger by buying her and her friends a session in a rage room,” Liam says, his tone surprisingly approving.

A rage room. The irony isn’t lost on me. I helped Eva do just that last night, using my face as a punching bag.

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