Page 25 of Scarred Hearts

“Listen, I’m sorry, I just… someone needs to tell you the truth!” She stared up at the sky, the lighting catching the glistening tear running down her cheek. Quickly, she erased it with her fingers before bringing her gaze back to mine. “Ty,” she sighed. “Mila and you might have loved one another, but she didn’t even know if she wanted to stay with you. You begged her to stay. And then, when she stayed, you two lived in different worlds. You weren’t meant to be together, and you know it.”

Avoiding eye contact, I kicked the burnt-out cigarette on the roof.

“I’m not trying to be mean, but for fuck’s sake, it’s time to be blunt with you about shit.” She took a step toward me. “You’re my literal family, and I’m going to always be honest with you because I truly don’t think anyone else in our circle has the guts to be right now. Ian doesn’t care as long as we’re not at each other’s throats, and the rest are too afraid to upset you. Tiptoeing around your emotions is taking a toll on all of us.” She let out another breath. “I love you so much, but continuing to beat yourself up is bad for your mental health. It’s time for you to choose happiness over wallowing in your grief.”

“Damn, Jade. Tell me how you really feel,” I muttered, lighting another cigarette.

She placed her hands on her hips, staring at me sternly. “You want me to be blunt and tell you something you don’t already know? Fine.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was being sarcastic.”

“The sarcastic act isn’t fooling anyone. It’s time to face the truth, I don’t care. I don’t even think you loved Mila toward the end,” she snapped. “Honestly? I think you felt guilty about walking out on the kids because you genuinely loved them and you and her stayed together just for them,” her voice got louder. “But I know for a fucking fact you two weren’t even that happy because she told me. And she didn’t even love you unconditionally. I told her if she hurt you, I’d fucking kill her.”

My blood boiled, and I could feel my whole body shaking with anger. “You conniving bitch! You threatened her? You’re lying!”

“Ty, please calm down. You know I’d never lie to you.” And it was true, she had never lied to me before. I trusted her completely with every fiber of my being. Over the years, we had grown closer, and now she wasn’t just family, but also one of my closest friends. The thought of her lying to me about Mila’s feelings cut deep, but strangely, it also provided some sort of twisted comfort.

“You’re telling me that my wife only stayed with me because you threatened her?”

“But I didn’t kill her,” she added quickly, as if that made it any better.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I replied, a second away from breaking all the pretty patio furniture and plants Jenna had arranged so nicely on the roof.

“Would you have even listened to me?” She lifted her brows.

Ignoring her, I took a drag of the cigarette. The smooth smoke drifted out of the corner of my mouth, swirling around in the wind.

“You know you wouldn’t have.” She took a step over again, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me tightly against her. “I’m sorry I yelled and got too blunt, but I swear I love you, and I’m just trying to make sure you know the truth but also,” she pulled back, holding my free hand. “I hate seeing you grieve someone who didn’t even deserve you. I’m not saying she was a bad person at all,” she said, rolling her eyes, “even if she wanted to leave you. All I’m saying is, she was from a different world than any of us, and she was never supposed to be your end game. It wasn’t her fault. She just was never meant for our world. I didn’t hate her. I liked her, but I just didn’t want to see you hurt.”

“So threatening people is how you show your affection?” I scoffed, though deep down, her words were starting to make sense. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

She let go of me, and I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I needed to get away for the night. Away from Euphoria and anyone in my family. Without a word, I dropped my cigarette onto the rooftop and crushed it under my heel.

“I’m leaving,” I announced before walking back into the building with my cousin following close behind. We didn’t exchange another word as we made our way downstairs to the lobby, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. When we reached the ground floor, I turned to her and said, “Tell them I said goodbye, okay?”

She nodded solemnly. “Call me tonight if you need anything.”

I didn’t bother responding, my frustration evident in the unwavering strides that carried me back into Luxe and to the office. Giovanna was already inside, rummaging through her bag as I entered. She whirled around at the sound of my arrival.

“I got off stage and still have my office key, and I let myself in, that’s why—” she paused, her brow furrowed. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

I marched to the desk, yanking the drawer open and grabbing my keys. “Get changed. I’m driving you home. You’re not walking.”

6

WRONG WORDS

GIOVANNA

To say Tyler was upset was an understatement. A tense silence filled the car during the ride to my apartment. I couldn’t bear the thought of adding to his pain and could only wonder if my playful teasing earlier had caused the change in him.

Even on stage, I couldn’t escape the sight of him storming out of the room, with Jade following closely behind. My performance went on without a hitch, but deep down, I was worried about Tyler’s well-being. No one at the table mentioned it when I finished my set. They all praised and welcomed me back as if nothing else had happened.

As we drove home, I longed to reach over and hold his hand in an attempt to offer some comfort. Much like I wanted to do when he was waiting on news about Mila’s surgery. It wasn’t romantic or sexual for me. I just wanted to comfort him; the man I met and spent hours with, in my world, and the man I’d gotten to see in his own. I might not have been able to tell what was bothering him, but I could feel his pain.

Ever since he yelled at me that night at the hospital, I didn’t want to overstep and make him uncomfortable. He had made it clear that things between us should remain professional, even though I could sense that he needed a friend more than ever right now.

If I’d lost the love of my life, I’m not sure I would’ve ever been able to move on. The thought of it alone was suffocating, and I couldn’t imagine how he must’ve been feeling after losing his own love. However, everyone grieves in their own way, so I tried my best to be there for him, whether he wanted to keep our relationship strictly professional or not.

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