Page 104 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

“Since you can’t take care of yourself and Oliver came to find us. We were plotting an intervention.”

“An intervention.”

I’d been a part of these before, but never had I been the recipient.

It was a strange feeling.

In the past two days, I’d had time to tell the three of them about the train wreck that had been the other night. The wholeday. I’d told them about my interview, about the party. I’d even gone as far as to tell Oliver everything about what had happened with Henry’s father, because he deserved to know, and because I hadn’t wanted him to think I had any hope of repairing what was now utterly broken.

Which was why I didn’t really feel like rehashing everything, all over again.

The breeze moved Scott’s blond hair as he looked worriedly at me. “We’ve been giving you space, Ant. I know the breakup was shitty and unexpected, but… We can’t just stand by and watch you being miserable anymore.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” I said. My hands tightened on my jeans. “I fucked up. I lied to him and he found out the hard way. Now we’re done.”

“You’renotdone,” Eliot said, sounding exasperated. “I get that Henry might have felt betrayed, but just look at it from his side for a second.”

“Iamdoing that, which is why I accept my guilt.”

“No,” Oliver burst out. “What Eliot is trying to say is—have you actually thought what he might feel? About howyoufeel?”

My brows furrowed. I couldn’t even make sense of anything right now, I just knew that my heart hurt, and hearing Henry’s name made me miss him like crazy. I just wanted to be back to us, laying lazily on his bed, watching our sitcom and cuddling.

It’s never going to happen again.

Scott groaned. “I’ll spell it out for you. Did you not think that maybe Henry believes you don’t care about him? That you only got close to him because of the favor?”

I hadn’t.

But it just…It was so obvious to me that I hadn’t been.

“Of course not. And how do you know he thinks that? Why would he?”

“Why? Becauseyouhaven’t told him otherwise,” Oliver said.

“And we obviouslydon’t know, Ant, we’re not telepathic.” Eliot sighed, sitting beside me on the bench. “But from what you said he told you the other night,” Eliot had been anal enough to make me retell, word by word, what he’d said to me, because he’d thought I’d somehow misunderstood Henrybreaking up with me, “I think it might be the case. And I’m not waiting around for you to sulk and find out a month from now.”

“Does it matter, though?” I said, feeling the raw wound opening again. “It’s like he said. We were never meant to last. Should I tell him I—” My voice cracked, but I soldiered on. “Should I tell him I’m in love with him just for him to get bored of me a month from now and move on?”

Because that was what this was about, wasn’t it? I felt useless. Worthless. And now that I was failing at the only thing in my life I’d thought myself able to do right, my freakingcareer, I didn’t have anything. I felt…naked and inadequate at the thought of presenting myself with my feelings to Henry.

I had nothing to offer. No charming personality, no interesting life experiences, no impressive successes.

I was just…me.

But hadn’t Henry known all along? That I was just me. Just a guy too hyper-focused on proving himself to the people he cared about, trying to live up to standards that no one demanded of him just to feel special and worthy.

Just Antony.

And he’d been my friend—no matter what he said—even then. He’d been my friend now, my…mysomething. He’d taken every chance he could to be with me. To hang out with me. To get me tangled into a stupid deal because neither of us was brave enough to just say what we felt.

He’d shown me I already had a life. And he’d never made me feel less than enough.

All of this knowledge was rushing through me, and my friends were quietly watching me put all of this together.

Oliver raised his eyebrows, arms crossed. “Will you do it, then?”

With a gulp, I nodded.

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