Page 143 of Maybe You

Maybe heartbreak is literal. Maybe my heart cracked and shattered inside my chest and now the shards and fragments are stabbing me on the inside whenever I move, and that’s why it hurts so badly. Because it does. It hurts so goddamn badly that I don’t know how to handle it. At least when the pain is physical you can point out where it hurts, so it’s more manageable just because it’s contained to a physical part of you. But what do you do when your soul hurts? And the only person who could fix you is somewhere out there, but also impossibly out of reach?

Because… I’ve called him. I’ve texted. I’ve shown up at his apartment. I’m a step away from a crazed stalker, but he doesn’t pick up, reply, or answer the door. And what would even be the point if he heard me out? What would I even say?

Oh hey, Sutton. Get over your lifelong trauma ’cause I love you?

I sigh before I push off the wall, grab the soap, and wash myself. I get out of the shower and brush my teeth.

“Here.” Jordan hands me some clothes the moment I step into my room.

“Nope.” I bypass him, my sights set on the bed again.

Jordan grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Get dressed,” he says firmly.

“Jesus Christ,” I groan. “Just leave me alone, dude. Read the room. I’m not in the mood for anything.”

“Not even for a fatherly lecture and some sage life advice?”

“Especially not those.”

“You’ll get them anyway.” He slaps the clothes against my chest. “You’ve got two minutes. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Why are you so annoying?” I call after him.

“Because I love you,” he shouts back.

Goddamnit!

I stare at the clothes sourly before I give up and pull the shorts and the T-shirt on. And then I stomp down the stairs.

Theo and two of his friends are in the living room, yelling at the TV and wielding controllers.

I stop in front of Jordan, who’s standing by of the front door, scrolling on his phone.

“I’ll give you ten minutes,” I say. “So you better make it quick.”

“You’ll give me ten minutes.” He chuckles, opens the door, and shoves me outside. “Cute. From time to time, you do crack me up, Wren.”

It’s fucking bright outside. And warm. Summer is in full swing, the sun is shining, and the leaves are painting cheerful shadows on the sidewalk. This is way too nice for my current mood.

For a moment, I contemplate running. I’ll trick him into following me and then circle back home. And this time, I’ll lock the door.

Only, who am I kidding? I can never outrun Jordan. Guy’s a machine.

“Come on,” he says. He grips the back of my neck and starts walking.

“Where are we going?”

“I guess we’ll see where we end up.” He shrugs.

We walk, and he keeps up a steady stream of small talk about his job and Theo’s summer camp plans and their trip to San Francisco where Theo is going to stay with Kira until school starts back up again. He fills me in on everything I’ve missed while I’ve been battling the jagged shards of my heartbreak.

Wouldn’t it be nice if this walk could be the cure? If I could just listen to Jordan talk and breathing would get easier, and I’d notice how bright and cheerful this day is and then come to the conclusion that there’s still hope for me?

Yeah, that would be just swell.

Instead, I’m counting the minutes until I can crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head.

---