Page 103 of Bought and Broken

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey, son.”

“What’s up?”

“Just calling to see if you thought about what I said.”

He wants me to visit him in Japan. He feels guilty for the way he’s treated me my whole life and wants a clear conscience before he dies. I understand that, but it’s not my responsibility to help him do that. He’s never done a thing for me, and he only wants to make amends now because he’s dying. I think that’s pretty shitty. Sometimes, it really is too late. Helping him does absolutely nothing for me. And besides that, I don’t have time to take a trip to Japan. Not unless that’s where Devon is, which I highly doubt.

“I’m not going to make it,” I say.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I understand. Work has you busy, I get it.”

“Yeah…”

I don’t want to tell him the truth—I’m not that much of an asshole. I may not want to go visit him because I don’t care about him clearing his conscience, but I’m not such a dick that I’ll say that to his face. I won’t put my life aside for a man who couldn’t put his aside for me. I’m not that big of a person. All that matters to me right now is getting Devon back. Apologizing to her and making sure she understands how much I love her and need her in my life. Doing whatever I can to get her back. Because I will get her back.

“Do your old man a favor, would ya?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t end up where I am, Tate. Don’t get this old and realize how badly you fucked up your life. You’re young. Smart. Spend time with the people you care about and make sure they know you care about them.”

I huff out a laugh. “I can do that.”

“Promise me?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

We get off the phone, but his words linger for a while after.

How did I get here? Why did I do any of this? Being blinded by rage has screwed up my life. None of this would have happened if only I’d asked her… if instead of walking away when I saw them come out of that room, I asked her what happened, we wouldn’t be here.

But I allowed my anger to get the better of me. No, I let my fear get the better of me. I was afraid of asking her and her admitting it. Telling me what she’d done to me. Seeing how easy it would be for her to admit it, which would only prove what I knew all along. That she didn’t care about me at all.

But I see now that isn’t true at all. Devon loved me and I fucked it up. I was bitter for years. I held on to hatred that was so misplaced it’s sad. I hurt the girl I love; the girl I would do anything for.

I swear when I find her, if she takes me back, I will spend the rest of my life making up our lost five years. And I’ll double down my efforts to make up for what I did to her now. But she has to understand… I went into this for the wrong reasons, but I’m still grateful I did it. Without that anger, I never would have gone back to her at all. I never would have realized how much I still love her and need her. Devon is too special to let go of. Even though I masked my love for her with hatred, it says a lot that I couldn’t ever leave her alone. I’m so in love with her, it’s pathetic.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Devon

I drop my suitcase to the floor just inside the front door. It smells good in here, thank god. I’ve spent the last three days cleaning it from top to bottom. There was a funky smell in the bedroom that lingered throughout the house, but after scrubbing the carpet twice, I finally got it out. Now it smells like vanilla thanks to the plug-ins I bought the other day.

I haven’t had time to look for a car yet—if I’m going to get one at all. But I took a cab to the store a few days ago to get cleaning supplies so I could clean the place up. When I got here, I forgot I had zero furniture. I spent the first night here, thinking it was fine since it wasn’t too dirty. It was just the smell that bothered me, but overall, it wasn’t bad. But when I woke up with a stiff back, from sleeping on a pile of clothes, and with a dead spider tangled in my hair, I knew there was no way I could spend another night here until it was cleaned top to bottom and I had a bed.

So, I’ve stayed in a hotel every night, came back each day to work on the house. Today, my furniture is being delivered and the relief I will feel once it’s in here… I’m already smiling about it.

I haven’t talked to anyone from home since being here. I felt it was for the best. Dane has called a few times. Dad too. Tate also called. Summer hasn’t, but that isn’t surprising. She knows me well enough to know I need space, so she’ll give it to me. Harassing me is only going to make me more upset with her and she’s already too worried about losing me as is.

I need time to settle in here and think about everything that’s happened before I talk to them. I have a lot of emotions to sort through, and I want to make sure that when I talk to them, it’s with a clear head.

The first person I’ll call is Dane. Then Dad. Likely Summer too. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to call Tate or not. Even the thought has me sick.

I knew something wasn’t right when he paid that much money for me. I considered the idea he was doing this to be a jerk. But I easily pushed it aside. And why? Because I told myself being nice to him would help me? How dumb am I? How did I convince myself of something so stupid? The problem is I never got over Tate. Not our relationship, and certainly not our friendship. How do you even get over something like that?

My feelings were hidden under so much resentment, bitterness, anger, and hurt that I couldn’t see through them. And when he showed me a small bit of kindness, I convinced myself it was real because a part of me wanted it to be.

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