Page 91 of What I Should Have Done

She giggled again. “Honestly, though, why would you even suggest that?”

Every ounce of bliss rushed from my veins as I chanced a glance her way. Confused. “What do you mean?” I asked, studying her face. She normally wore her emotions on her sleeve, but now all I saw was a concoction of indecipherable expressions.

“What happened…” She paused and glanced around us. “Just because we fucked once doesn’t mean anything has changed.”

“I mean, not to everyone else, right, but to us?” I questioned, my stomach sinking to the sandy floor.

“Mikey, stop, please,” she muttered, unable to look me directly in the eyes.

“I just thought…” I stopped talking, watching as her gaze darted around, not stopping at one thing.

“You don’t actually have feelings for me, do you?” I blurted out.

“Stop. Just stop. If someone finds out…” She finally looked directly at me, mist swelling in her stare. “This is my life, my career that gets put at risk. You knew that from the beginning, too.”

I snatched the letter from the table and lowered my hands to my lap, crumpling it tightly in my fist. “I know.”

“You don’t get to do that!” she cried out, her eyes misting over.

“I’m not doing anything,” I replied. Masking my anger and pain was something I was a professional at, and that numb expression slipped across my face, but inside… Inside I was boiling with indescribable and almost unbearable agonizing anger.

“Exactly,” she quietly said, her voice trembling. “You’re doing nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

I looked up at her, choking down the excruciating chasm of hollow bitterness. “I shouldn’t have suggested it. I shouldn’t have said shit, and I’m truly sorry.”

“Mikey, stop,” she whispered, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Stop what? I’m trying to apologize.” I hated where this was going. I could smell it from a mile away.

“You knew we would never work.” She drew in a shaky breath, and I gave her a tight smile.

“I know, Scotch,” I whispered, realizing that it wasn’t anger coursing through my veins but reality. The reality of our short-lived moment of shared passion.

“So, we’re clear on things, right?” she quietly muttered.

I looked up at her as she quickly wiped away the stains on her cheeks. Nothing between us had even started and it was already over, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. As my soul shattered, my heart swallowed back into the pit of hardened stone, nothing before had ever pained me so much.

“Crystal,” I replied and dragged my legs over the bench, standing up. I refused to be the reason that she lived with regrets. I wouldn’t be the reason that she didn’t get everything she’d worked for—even if that meant keeping my feelings for her to myself. Even if that meant living on the sidelines and alone. At least that was something I was good at.

Because she deserved the world.

And that apparently didn’t include me.

“Mikey!” Scottie cried out. I closed my eyes, reaching for Jacob’s dog tags in my pocket.

And then I walked away. Nothing I wanted to say would rectify the situation. She was right. I’d known from the beginning that we were destined to fail. I just hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly.

I hadn’t expected it to feel this strange, even more painful than walking in on Rachel cheating. Everything shifted, became unfamiliar, even the feel of the dog tags beneath my fingers felt odd. Unusual.

Everything just was.

Wait.

I rounded a corner and stopped walking.

The dog tags really did feel strange. Pulling them out of my pocket, I put aside the heartache and studied the same metal that hung around my neck.

“No. Fucking. Way,” I gasped, my mouth falling open. They were not the same as the tags I wore. The two dog tags each held seven numbers. That was it.

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