Page 82 of Undeniable

“It’s done, James. It shouldn’t matter anyway.”

His laugh was bitter and humorless. “Of course it fucking matters! I still care, Ivy. I made a mistake not coming back for you.”

“Yes, and now you get to live with the consequences of that mistake and all the other mistakes you’ve made!” I yelled back before my voice broke off into another sob.

“Ivy, please, don’t do this. I came back.Please.”

Then I dealt the final blow before he could see me cry. He’d taken enough of me. I wasn’t going to give him my vulnerability too.

“It’s too late,” I ground out. “Ihateyou. I will never not hate you.”

The tears were imminent as I witnessed the terrified, broken look twist his features.

I turned and hustled up the porch stairs past Brendon and Forrest, still watching on.

When I slammed my bedroom door shut, I locked it so no one else could barge in unannounced. I slid down onto the floor and brought my knees to my chest, curling into a ball. My tears were silent, but my broken heart was painfully loud.

TWENTY-NINE

Ivy

I’d come hometo an empty apartment, and I was happy to have the place to myself. Shelby would’ve bombarded me with questions and advice, and I don’t think I could handle that. I needed more time before I could subject myself to her therapist tactics.

I’d been texting Amanda and Hazel all weekend too, telling them—more or less—how it was going. I hoped no matter what happened between me and James that we’d still be friends. I was growing fond of their antics, but I had to decline their invitation to dinner.

I didn’t know how much James had shared with them, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I had to get my thoughts straight and figure out how I was feeling before I was around anyone else. Amanda and Hazel especially would’ve noticed something was wrong, no matter how hard I’d try to hide it.

I knew I’d made the right decision when I responded. Or at least I did until the quiet was too overwhelming and I was actually surrounded by my thoughts and had nothing else to distract myself. My phone, the TV, none of it held my interest long enough to adequately get me out of my head, which I realized was the last place I wanted to be.

So much for trying to figure anything out.

And that’s how I ended up on my hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards in the kitchen with music blaring in the background. It still wasn’t enough to distract me, but at least it was something.

I knew there was nothing that would actually help. There was no getting him out of my head.

Having lain there with him was painful. All of the old memories, the ones I’d done so well to bury, were thrust to the surface the moment I woke up in his arms, especially after the dance we shared. And a torrent of guilt came flooding back with them.

I barely heard the knock on the door over the music and the storm raging outside. I cringed, thinking of our old and irritable neighbor pounding down our door. He’d mentioned to me in passing only a few days earlier that he’d be out of town all weekend, so I didn’t think much of the noise. While connecting the Bluetooth speaker, I had considered putting in headphones instead, but it didn’t have the same effect as blasting the music at full volume throughout the entire place.

Begrudgingly, I ripped off the rubber gloves and tossed them into the sink but left the bucket and sponge in the middle of the kitchen floor. I tapped my phone to pause the music and glanced in the mirror next to the door.

I looked about as good as I felt. I’d tied my hair in a loose bun on top of my head, but several wavy strands had fallen around my face. In my rush to get out of my parents’ house, I hadn’t had time to throw on makeup that morning either. Although that wasn’t totally out of the norm for me—I liked the way my freckles looked—the dark circles under my eyes were not cute.

There was a loud clap of thunder and an apology was already tumbling out of my mouth as I opened the door.

But it wasn’t our ornery neighbor. There was no sweater-vest or slightly balding man in sight.

Standing at my door, soaking wet and wearing an angry scowl, was James.

My apologies died on my tongue the moment I realized it was him. His head was downturned, water dripping off his blond hair and hitting the small porch in front of him. All the closest parking spots were reserved for residents, which meant he’d had to run quite a distance from the closest one. And that was probably why he looked like he’d been in the rain for hours.

His hands were braced on either side of the doorframe while his eyes were downturned, staring at the “welcome” mat in front of the door.

I cleared my throat and began to ask what he was doing there when he said in a low voice, “You left.”

He was moving before I had a chance to say anything. He brushed past me and walked straight into my clean apartment, sopping wet clothes, shoes and all.

I should’ve known that he’d come after me. I hadn’t entirely expected it because part of me still believed that his confession the night before about regretting what happened between us was bullshit.

---