Page 73 of Pretty Heartache

“You weren’t.” I tighten my hands into fists. “You said you weren’t good for me, but maybe I’m not good for you. You’re Archer’s best friend, and I can’t jeopardize your relationship.”

“I don’t think you understand what you’re doing to me, Addy.” His velvety voice hits my ear. “I told you about Calista and my past with her. I thought I wanted a future with her, until the day I decided I didn’t. She wasn’t my future, nor any other woman for that matter. Because this, with you, is different. You make me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else. You push my buttons and get under my skin. When you aren’t near, I wonder all the fucking time what you’re doing, who you’re with. If you aren’t with me, I immediately start figuring out the quickest way to get to you. I want you. I want you so fucking badly sometimes, it hurts, but we can’tbeif you don’t tell me why you’re running.”

Micah’s confession breaks the dam.

“All my life, I’ve struggled, blaming Archer for what he doesn’t know.” I swallow the tears, though they keep flowing. “But I’ve also blamed him for ignoring the signs, for never taking the initiative to listen.”

“What do you mean? Signs of what?” Micah asks, tracing his finger across my jaw line. He hasn’t let up, clearly unsure whether I’m still on the verge of fleeing.

“There are twelve years between Archer and me,” I start. “My mother used to tell everyone the story of how I was theirsurprisebaby… but my father liked to call me the mistake. He had a vasectomy a couple weeks after Archer was born. One child was enough, and as soon as my father found out Archer was a boy, he solidified his decision to only ever wanting one child. My mother was a famous model, and I know, for her, she was worried going through another pregnancy would force her to leave her career behind. Back then, pregnancy was essentially a modeling career death sentence. And after she’d had Archer, she practically lived in the gym and starved herself just to be able to go back to work.”

I swallow, the tears only stopping momentarily, but my chin quivers as the next words spill from my mouth.

“She was able to work for twelve years after having Archer, but then she got pregnant with me. And while she was older and her career was dwindling in the eyes of society, she was still forced to leave on their terms, not hers. The older I got, the more my dad made me aware of the resentment he held for me. For her losing her career. For me holding him back to raise a child all over again. When Archer left for college, everything got worse. I found myself counting down the days until I got out, and the second I was old enough, I did.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Micah says, cupping my face. I lean into his hand, allowing his warmth to wrap around me, but thefeeling is only temporary, the pain of never being wanted ripping through me.

“Don’t you see, though?” I look up at Micah with tear-filled eyes. “It’s all my fault. I’m the cause of everyone’s pain. My father’s for having to raise me when he clearly didn’t want me. My mother’s for being forced to quit her career before she was ready.”

“Addy, stop.” Inhaling a sharp breath between his teeth, he wrapsbothof his hands around my face now, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You are not the cause of everyone’s pain.”

“I am.” I squeeze my eyes shut. A sob rattles my chest, forcing me to shake.

“Addy,” Micah soothes, willing me to open my eyes. “There is no justification for abuse. Ever. You are not the reason he treated you that way.”

Micah loosens his hands from around my face and wraps his arms around me.

He’s a blanket of safety. A warm light in the darkness.

I wish I could hide here in the comfort of his arms, but being here with him isn’t reality.

“As I got older, I wanted to tell Archer about the way I was treated at home, but I didn’t think he’d understand. Then when I was old enough and brave enough to tell him, he didn’t want to hear it. He’s been too consumed with his own life to fully care about mine.”

“Archer loves you.”

“I know he does.” I nod. “I know if he knew, he would have done something. He’s only wanted what’s best for me. And I know it isn’t right, but there’s shame in me not telling him the truth. I should have said something, but back then, I knew the only person I could count on was myself. Then I made it to Los Angeles, and I found myself in a relationship headed down the same path. One of fear and manipulation. Control.” I pull myface away from Micah’s chest. His shirt peels away from my skin, wet from my tears. “I left him before it got worse. I didn’t want to end up like my mother.”

“Oh, Addy,” he says, soothing me. He tenses his jaw, clearly the idea of a man hurting me angering him, but he keeps his hatred close to his chest. He buries it, comforting me instead.

I don’t dive further into my history with Maddox. I realize the pain I feel isn’t from leaving him. It’s the pain from allowing myself to walk into a relationship of abuse again so easily. It’s pain and disappointment in myself.

“Looking in the mirror only reminds me of what I left behind. I invited another man into my life. He used me and punished me by hitting me where it would hurt most. I can’t look at myself in the mirror because I know the eyes I see looking back at me aren’t the same as the hopeful ones I saw before him. My face was my career, my passion, and my livelihood. And now, what do I have?”

Micah pushes my hair away from my face. “I know what it’s like to look in the mirror and hate what you see.” He swallows as his eyes search my face. “But we can’t move on when we’re afraid of looking at the past and acknowledging the kind of person it’s made us become.”

“I’m terrified,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

Tears slip through my lashes and stain my cheeks while I listen to his voice.

“Stay,” he says above the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down the back of my neck. The sensation slinks down the length of my back and to my front, splitting off. A piece of it shoots straight for my heart, the other settling in my lower belly. The warmth of him surrounds me, the echoes of my past vibrating in the air between us.

His hand finds my stomach, trailing around my waist. He slips under the hem of my shirt, touching my bare skin, leaving an invisible trail that gives me strength I didn’t know I needed.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned since you barged your way into my life, it’s that we aren’t victims of our past, Adeline.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and gently tightens his grip, pulling me to look up. “We’re fighters and survivors.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“It took courage to walk away. Don’t ever doubt or question your decision in doing what was best for you.”

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