Page 90 of Those Heartbreak Scars

I would have given him as much time as he needed. I would have gone home without him as many times as I needed to until he could make peace with his hurt and his anger.

As the years progressed I would have settled for cool indifference between the three of them.

I don’t know that there is anything else I can do to make him see that he has my whole heart. “After the Dells I’m going to stay for a while. I was planning for a month, but now…”

“You miss home. And I’ll be on tour. Are you thinking about moving back long-term?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll miss you.”

I reach across the counter and take her hand. We’ve lived together for over a year. Spent most nights in each other’s company. I’ll miss her a lot. “You should come to the Dells with me. Before your life gets hectic. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to hang out together.”

If I’d known how this thing with Gray would go, I might have stayed home to spend time with my friend. No, no I wouldn’t have. But now the idea of one last girls trip is brewing. “Say you’ll come with me. Indy will be thrilled. She’s always talking about us all getting together.”

“You just want backup when she grills you about whohewas.”

“That might be a part of it,” I admit. Not the whole reason, but a part of it.

I’ve felt like the worst friend for months. I’m done with keeping secrets. Of lying by omission.

“I don’t know.” She mulls over the idea while she sucks the frozen treat off her spoon.

“If you’re worried about EJ, I wouldn’t. He likes his job so much he takes work on vacation with him. He’ll probably camp out in his room most of the trip. We’ll barely see him.”

“I’m not worried about him.” She rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t even factor.”

“Then you’ll come?” I grin at her. “It’ll be the break we both need. And we can swear off—”

“Dicks and men who are dicks.” She gives me a pointed look. One that says when has that ever worked out? “Yeah, yeah. I’ll come. What flight number? I’ll see if I can book a seat. And call my beautician for an emergency spray tan.”

“I’ll tell Indy,” I pick up my phone. My heart bottoms out. For a second I let myself hope that Gray would be in my notifications when I light up my screen.

But he’s not. And it hurts all over again.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Gray

“Can I make a phone call?” I ask the police officer who escorted me from the cell where I spent the morning. I don’t recall the cops taking me off the street last night. Or how I ended up with an assortment of mottled bruises on my ribs that hurt with every move I make.

I wince as I brush my fingers over the bump on the back of my head. That’s also a mystery. My phone, wallet, and the keys to the rental car weren’t on me when I woke, but I figured the officer who put me in the drunk tank probably took them off me.

I don’t really remember how I ended up here. The last thing I recall with any clarity was fuming over America leaving me for Indy while the bartender poured my second drink.

Apparently last night I got disastrously drunk and decided to walk the streets of Amsterdam with a bottle of scotch and a really good argument over why I’m an idiot. Also, my escort said something about how I urinated in a public fountain and that I’ll be fined for both bad decisions.

I made so many bad choices yesterday. Fighting with America. Ending things with some stupid idea that it wouldn’t hurt as much if I did it immediately instead of waiting for the day when she left me like Indy did. The officer gestures for me to sit down at a desk and then takes the chair opposite and starts writing up my paperwork. The sun peeking through the blinds is aggravating. I could do with a couple of Tylenol and a sports drink for my throbbing head.

I stare at the telephone perched on the desk. America must be thinking the absolute worst. The things I said to her yesterday. Then I disappeared. Didn’t call her. Left her thinking we were over when I just needed a pause to catch my breath. As soon as I’m done here, I’m going to fix things.

I’m in too deep to not have my heart broken if we don’t work out. I love her with every beat and every breath. I love who we are together. And it is terrifying. But it’s not something I’m going to run away from just because the good comes with some other stuff I don’t love so much. Like letting go of the hurt and the bitterness I’ve been harboring. Rebuilding bridges.

Forgiving Indy so that I can be with America… I’m not sure I’m there yet. But it isn’t about Indy. Or me. Or who we used to be to each other. It’s about America and who I want to be when I’m around her.

The officer hands me my fines. “Where do I collect my belongings?” I ask as I stand.

His brows draw together. “You had nothing on you when you were brought in.”

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