Page 34 of Bought and Broken

It’s a non-answer because I can’t think clearly to form other words.

What I would have given to be alone with Tatum like this years ago… When we were together and things were different.

My love for Tatum didn’t turn to resentment right away. I can’t even say it’s hate I felt for him because I don’t think I hate him, not really. I hate the things he’s done to me, the way he treats me. Most of all, I hate that he broke up with me and stopped talking to me without an explanation.

If only he had told me what was wrong instead of running, we could have fixed it. We could be together right now, like we’d planned.

But then I recall all the girls he brought to my house over the last five years. All the nights he and Dane stayed out all night. All the stories they share when they come home the next day, still hungover and laughing about everyone they slept with.

Staying with Tatum would have been a mistake. Maybe even more of a mistake than being with him now. He isn’t one for the monogamous life, that much is clear. He went to an auction for fuck’s sake, and for what? The guy is gorgeous and could get any girl on this planet if he wanted to. Meaning he only did it because he can. And I don’t like that. I don’t like people throwing around their money just because they have it. Use your words. Be real. Why act like money is everything?

He could be with me, if he only said the word…

“Because it hurts my feelings,” he says, his voice raspy.

My mouth goes dry, and I’m stuck. Frozen. His eyes bore into mine. They remind me of coffee, which is fitting to his personality. Dark. Empty. Bitter. Can’t be sweet on his own, but sure fakes it when he’s around sweet things.

Tatum was so different when we were together. I made him better.

Is that even fair? I’m not sure, but it definitely made me feel good. Knowing I was the only person who could get through to him. The only person who got to see all his good things. Then it all went away in the blink of an eye—and for what?

I can’t fall for his tricks—because that’s all they are.

I have to be strong.

Be strong, Devon.

Don’t fall for his crap. I don’t know what his motive is, but this isn’t real. Tatum isn’t the same boy I fell in love with when we were kids. The same boy I wanted to spend my life with. Tatum isn’t being nice to me for any reason that’ll benefit me. This is a game for him. Just another way to hurt me. He’s spent the last five years doing anything he can to cause me pain, trying to get back at me for something I didn’t do. To put all the pain that he’s harbored over the years into me, as if it’s my fault that he’s hurting. None of his pain is caused by me—it’s all caused by his father. His mother. Probably his step-brother and step-mother too.

If only he’d told me… If only he’d tell me now…

But he didn’t and he won’t. Because he’s Tate and it’s best I remember that.

“You don’t have feelings, Tatum,” I say sadly.

If I weren’t so close that I could see the tiny flecks of walnut in his otherwise dark abyss of eyes, I’d never see the twitch of his lower lid. Or the way his jaw just barely clenched. My words hurt him. Good. Now he knows what it feels like to be hurt by someone you care about. Because at the end of the day, I do still care about Tatum. And I hate that what I said hurt him because this isn’t me. I don’t like who I have to be when I’m around him because it’s not me.

I make Tatum a better version of himself, while he makes me the worst version of me.

I care when he’s hurting. I’d care if I never saw him again. I care about his well-being.

But it can’t be more than that. There has to be a line—a very big, bright, thick line that I can never cross with him.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he says, the pain coming through in his words. But he isn’t angry, and that says a lot. It’s hurt, and he’s allowing me to see it.

I force a smile. “You’re right. I don’t. Whose fault is that?”

His phone rings, saving me from whatever this conversation was turning into. Without a word, he gets out of the pool, snatches his cell from the table and heads inside.

I’m thankful for the breather. This weekend is going to be harder to get through than I thought.

When he returns, his arms are full of blown up floats and he has a small smile on his face. He must be over what I said. I can’t figure out if this side of him will be good or bad for me.

Chapter Seventeen

Tatum

Devon is terrible at hiding her feelings, and it’s why it’s so easy to rile her up. It’s why I know I’m in a good place with her; that she’s almost where I need her. She’s not fully there yet, it won’t work that fast, but I’m slowly sneaking my way through her cracks. I just need to take things slow.

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