Page 109 of Worth Every Game

Marie raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, babe. It’s all the crying. I can’t do it.”

I blow air out over loose lips, trying to hide the hurt pounding through my veins. “Shitty night sleep anyway. Your sofa sucks.” I fist a hand and thwack the nearest cushion.

“Woah. Easy there.” Marie shifts the guitar onto the sofa next to me, taps her hands on her thighs, and stands. “I’ve got to get to the hospital, and you need to channel all these feelings into the music. You won’t be sorry. Every great artist needs to have their heart broken. The more times the better.”

“You sadist,” I spit.

“Go on.” She nods at the guitar. “Make the most out of this. Write a hit song. And whatever you do, don’t delete your profile. You’re just getting started.” Marie blows me a kiss and adds, “Love you, babe.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I don’t believe her, when the memories of saying that exact thing to Jack last night swarm at me, stinging every inch of my body. Christ, I can’t do anything, can’t think anything, without him invading my mind.

As Marie leaves, closing the door behind her, the stinging shifts to blistering, scorching agony. It’s burning me up, engulfing me, and I don’t know how I’ll ever get through it. I might die right here on Marie’s sofa. The pain rages through me, splitting me open and I hinge at the hip, my breasts grazing my thighs, hands clawing at my chest and shoulders as I desperately try to contain it.

I wish Jack was here. I wish he could hold me and let me cry andfuck…I hate him.I wouldn’t be crying like this if it weren’t for him and all that pressure he put on me. If it weren’t for the photos and the fact that somehow,somehow, he let them get out into the world.

I weep until my face is soaked with tears, and my sleeves too, from the vain attempts of wiping them away.

Eventually, the incessant flow of sobbing begins to ebb, and it’s then I notice the guitar. All I want to do is snatch up the damn thing and smash it against the wall. But seeing as it’s not mine, I don’t. I pick it up, check the tuning, and begin to riff.

The next few days pass in a blur of tears. I don’t remember ever being this miserable. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m a nervous wreck. I can’t stop thinking about Jack and what happened between us, and the look on his face after we fought. It’s destroying me.

I’ve been living with Nico and Kate. They’re sweet to be around, if a tad sickening, but I’m pretty sure they’re being careful not to rub their happiness in my face. Not that I’d notice because I’m completely preoccupied. Those photos are everywhere. I’ve received so many messages about them from people I haven’t seen for years, people I thought I’d never hear from again, and a string of old boyfriends. Even my parents called, but I didn’t answer. The last thing I need is a reprimand from them.

If they were ashamed of me before, they’ll be furious now. Maybe even blame me for tarnishing their professional reputation. Well, that’s their shit to deal with. Not mine.

But in spite of all the messages, it’s not enough to distract from the pain of losing Jack.

I’ve been going over everything in my mind, trying to make sense of it. How much of this is his fault? He didn’t delete the pictures, but not because he wanted to use them against me, and he didn’t force me to pose for them. He didn’t force me to do anything… But they were private, and he failed to keep them that way. How can I forgive that?

“Can you tell your brother to control himself?” Nico’s voice blasts from the living area just as I’m coming to breakfast. He doesn’t sound angry. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s laughing. “This is madness.”

“This has absolutely nothing to do with me,” Kate says. “Plus, I think they’re beautiful.”

I turn into the kitchen to see the entire place is full of flowers. Every inch of floor space is covered. It’s as though I’ve walked into a field of blooms, and every one of them is a different shade of orange. It’s the most spectacular floral array I’ve ever seen. My throat tightens immediately, as Jack’s voice rings in my head.I fucking hate orange, but I love you. Both Kate and Nico turn to me with strange, guilty expressions on their faces.

“What’s this?” I croak out, speaking around the lump that has formed in my throat as I make my way through the bouquets that litter the floor. The scent of roses and lilies fills the air.

“This is Jack,” Kate says, spreading her arms to encompass all the flowers. “I think you’ve sent him crazy. These are all for you.”

“No one needs this many flowers,” Nico mutters. “Orange, too. It’s like fucking Halloween in here.”

“It’s more like a stunning sunset,” Kate says.

Nico throws her a disapproving glare, gesturing at the flowers. “They can’t stay here.”

I swallow, hoping the lump in my throat will disappear, but it doesn’t. “Oh.”

Nico waits a moment as if to see whether I’m going to say anything else, and when I don’t he adds, “I’m going to call him.”

Tears prick behind my eyes, and Kate, noticing the emotion on my face, turns to Nico, one palm up in a stop sign. “Don’t call him. We can redistribute the flowers.” She steps carefully through the bouquets and puts her arms around me. “You okay?”

I moan a laugh into her shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” I take a shuddering breath. “Sorry. I’m not ready to talk to him.”

She rubs my back. “Sure. Take your time. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”

“I love him,” I murmur. Kate pulls back from me, her hands still on my shoulders, a curious look on her face as though she’s trying to work out how serious I am. Behind her, Nico has gone very still, watching. “I love him,” I repeat. “I’m in love with your arse of a brother. And I hate him.I fucking hate him.And it’s driving me mad because I don’t know which one I feel more strongly.”

Nico’s eyes go wide, and when he moves, he creeps through the flowers as though he’s trying to leave without me noticing he’s there.

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