Page 5 of It's Always Us

“Yes.” My heart begins to race with the need to run.Mustang.

“Are you all right?” He follows me to the doors.

I stop, peering up at his freshly shaven face and golden-brown eyes while my heart hammers away at the thought of what I’m about to do.

“What do you think of this dress?”

“What?” His brows tip in so far they almost meet.

“This dress,” I whisper, running a hand over the stiff, ugly, plain material covering my body.Punch. Punch. Punch.My heart bangs against my ribs as if it, too, is searching for the one who isn’t here. The one who hasn’t been here in so long but it has never been able to forget. “What do you think of it?”

He studies me like he’s noticing I’m wearing a dress for the first time. “I think you look beautiful. It’s stunning.”

My heart sinks into a pit of disappointed despair.Buick. Mustang. Buick. Mustang . . . Mustang. It’s always been the Mustang.

“I have to go.”

I swing open the doors, and all the bright whiteness of the room shocks my senses into flight mode. I make a run for it, not taking even a second to think about what happens next.

Chapter 2

LEX

I roll over and smack my vibrating phone. I have no idea what time it was when I crawled into bed, but when sleep never comes, you can’t blame it all on a bad dream. It’s all real, and with daylight, I have to deal with it.

I want to hide in bed and bypass the day, especially talking with Seth. It’s going to suck, and that’s a vast understatement.

I prefer to reserve confrontation and difficult conversations for someone else. I’m an avoider, which is precisely what got me into this giant shame-ridden mess. But now, I have to strap on my big girl boots and deal with the consequences.

I push myself up, my body springing to life with anxiety.

“How in the hell did I let this happen?” I whisper, shoving my hands into my messy, tangled hair. I pull my knees to my chest, needing the morning air to cool me.

Two years. I’ve dated Seth for two years, and it’s taken me all that time to wake up. I told myself I could marry Seth and let him believe I wanted to. Grandpa said no one was forcing me to do this, but I was forcing myself.

For two years, I’ve been going through the motions, allowing myself to get wrapped up in an idea of what my life should look like. I dated a stable guy and molded myself into his life, but all I’ve been doing is running from the past by planning a future that shouldn’t be mine. I told Seth I would marry him because that would mean I’d finally moved on like it was some kind of proof that I’d actually been able to let go.

I rest my forehead on my knees as my empty stomach twists into a giant knot, heaving bile into my throat. I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out slowly.

I’ve lied to myself, my family, my friends . . . Seth. I’ve pretended to be someone I’m not. To love a man simply because I’ve never been able to stop loving another.

I pretend. It’s what I’m good at. I pretended and made it through school. To be ok when life is hard, disappointing, and full of hurt.

I can’t keep lying to everyone. To myself. I can’t keep trying to convince myself that I’ll somehow be able to move on because I won’t. All this time, all these years, and I haven’t been able to. Maybe I haven’t tried hard enough, or maybe sometimes, when someone steals your heart, you just don’t ever get it back.

I’m tired, and my heart aches with years of grief I’ve tried so damn hard to ignore. It’s time to face it and accept I will never rid myself of him. The one person who will forever linger within me but can never be mine.

I inhale, filling my lungs as I run my fingers over the bags underneath my eyes. I have to drag myself from this bed and get to it. Seth should be relieved, but he may not see it that way.

Still curled into a ball, I let myself roll to the side, hitting the bed. My phone vibrates on my nightstand. Reluctantly, I grab it to see who it is. Seth.

I ignore it. I can’t talk to him right now. The longer I wait, the worse it’ll be, and I should have done this long ago.

I force myself right side up again, pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail and straightening my T-shirt. It’s tattered and holey, but the most comforting possession I own.

I tug the neck up over my mouth.I wish everything was different.

My phone buzzes again, but only once this time, followed by a quick second. I grab it from my nightstand, focusing on the words.

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