Page 92 of From You to Me

Her hair tie on the couch, her coffee mug on the counter, the smell of vanilla and burnt orange lingering in the air, the soft smile that tugged her lips when I came home, her warm gaze that followed me, and fuck, even Strawberry running around.

I knew I shouldn’t miss it but I did.

I reminded myself of the betrayal and the agony that rushed back to me when I saw her with Will. It was like I was back to that day six years ago. All the benefit of the doubt, the tiny glimmer of hope that maybe she was right vanished in an instant. It was something that I never wanted to feel again. It took me right back to that time when I was barely living when I realized that it was all an act, a facade to get me to see her in a different light.

The burning rage that consumed me made me despise her, and at that moment, I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me

I hated her, I told her I never wanted to see her face again, but back here I was, days later, her sad brown eyes tugging my soul when I saw her with those marks on her neck.

I wanted to kill someone at that sight.

That was when it hit me that I could never hate her. But I couldn’t trust her either. So I was stuck in this weird dynamic.

Friends. I told her that we could at least be friends.

I hoped that I was right.

But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d somehow fucked it up.

“Emmie, if you don’t stop, I’m going to throw your ass out,” Mikey complained.

My hand grasped the tennis ball that I’d been volleying at the wall as my gaze slid to him. “Shut up, fucker,” I mumbled as I hurled the ball against the wall once again.

The constant thud of my tossing echoed loudly through the room.

“Fuck, you’re giving me a headache, Emmie,” he groaned, sprawled on my couch in my TV room. “Is this about you fucking it up with Evy?”

I caught the ball and snapped toward him. “How do you know if I fucked up? Did she say anything?”

He grinned. “If you want to know, then drop that cursed thing that you’re holding.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I launched the ball aside and slid in beside him.

He still had that wicked grin dancing on his lips but didn’t say a thing.

I raised my brow, my patience wearing thin at his antics. “So?”

“So you fucked up,” he stated simply.

My arm reached out on its own accord and gave him a hard smack. “Fucker. I’m asking how? Did she say something?”

“Ouch.” He grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Fuck, isn’t it obvious, she was right in front of you and you let her go?”

“I thought she said something.” Leaning back, I stared at the ceiling. “It’s not easy. You know all the shit that she pulled back then. I can’t let her in again, not like I used to anyway. We decided to be friends.”

My eyes snapped to him as I heard a blubber of laughter spill out of his lips. “Friends?” A gleam coated his eyes. “You and E? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Really? I think you need to check your vision at this point.” He shifted his gaze to Matt who was busy fiddling with his controller sniping the guy on his screen. “Matty? Do you think that Emmie and Evy could be friends?”

Matt frowned without looking up from the TV. “No,” he mumbled.

“See.” Mikey gestured dramatically. “Even good old Matty can see it.”

“See what?” I narrowed my eyes farther. That fucker was getting on my nerves.

He sighed, suddenly switching to a more serious expression. “Emmie, do you see the way she looks at you? Or the way you look at her? That girl fell for you when you had nothing, the look in her eyes is the same one she had when she was sixteen. Evy loves you, man, it’s clear that she never stopped.”

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