Page 91 of Breakaway

I sit on the couch and shut my eyes hard, trying my best not to cry. The sound of the door opening sends shivers down my spine, and I’m surprised to discover Roman in the doorway. He’s still in the same clothes he wore when he came in, but now a gym bag is hanging over his shoulder.

Forgetting how to breathe, I follow him with my eyes as he walks over and sits down on the coffee table in front of me. The bag drops to the floor with a thud, indicating how full it is. Roman puts his elbows on his knees, locking his hands in front of him and lowering his chin onto them. Our eyes meet, and it feels like my world is crumbling down. The anger behind his irises kills my last hope.

He doesn’t love me.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m moving out,” he deadpans, and I press Sulley harder to my chest. “I’m taking some stuff with me, and once I find a place, I’ll get the rest. You can stay here. I’ve paid for the apartment for the rest of the year.”

“You can’t be serious.” My breath hitches in my throat, and my hands become clammy.

“I am.” Roman shrugs, his eyes shallow. “The apartment is yours now. I won’t take anything except my clothes and personal belongings.”

“Roman, if this is a joke, please tell me. Because I?—”

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense!” I yell and jump to my feet, towering over him. “When you left, you told me you were going to miss me. Every time we talked or texted, you told me how much you couldn’t wait to see me. We were happy together, and now this? What fucking happened, Roman?”

The way his facial expression doesn’t even waver makes my legs unsteady. He looks bored, almost like this conversation doesn’t interest him.

“You betrayed my trust,” he replies nonchalantly.

“What?” I slump back onto the couch, my eyebrows knitting together.

“You heard me. You betrayed my trust, and now I have nothing to say to you.” My mouth falls open, and I gawk at him. What is he talking about? “Though there’s something I actually do want to know.” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Please, enlighten me; why did you think it was a good idea to write about my past?”

What’s going on? I’m so lost right now, even my vision darkens. “I didn’t?—”

Roman lifts his hand, silencing me. “I read the article, Nevaeh. From start to fucking finish.” Every word is like a nailthat stabs my little heart deeper and deeper. “Who gave you the right to write about me? About Maksim? About my family? I sure don’t remember telling you I was okay with it.”

“Roman, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t write anything?—”

“Ty izdevaesh’sya?1?” he asks, letting his mask slip for the first time today. “Are you kidding me, Nevaeh?”

“I swear this is some kind of mistake. I never?—”

“Stop!” he roars, and I rear back in my seat, instinctively grabbing my Sulley from the couch and holding it close. “I was excited to read that article because I knew how important it was for you. I knew how much you struggled with writing it and how much you were…” Roman pauses, gritting his teeth. “Blyat’?2, I can’t fucking talk in this language.” Running his palm down his face, he meets my eyes again. “I knew how vulnerable you felt sharing those parts of your past, and I was so proud of you. Hell, I was planning to take you out so we could celebrate. To make you smile because you deserve it for all your hard work. I felt all that, and then I read it, feeling so fucking bad for you when I read about your parents, enraged when I read about Kyle, and so happy when I reached the part about Angie…but then there was the part about me.”

“I wrote about my love for you.” I hiccup, feeling fat, hot tears stream down my face. “I’m in love with you, Roman.”

Roman frowns. His knuckles turn white with how hard he balls his fists. “No.” He shakes his head, and I feel my heart break in two. “Everything I told you about my past, about Maksim, about my father…it’s all there. You didn’t leave anything out. Even my drinking problems. You aired my dirty laundry for everyone to see. To fucking pity me.” He clicks his tongue, looking away. “I’m a project you’re working on. The broken boy you’re trying to heal. It has nothing to do with love.”

He stands up and hovers over me; his gaze is full of resentment.

“I told you you couldn’t fix me.” Roman takes a step back and lifts his bag from the floor. “You should’ve listened to me.”

With squared shoulders and a straightened back, he strolls away from the couch. I cry, my tears streaming freely down my face. My hold on Sulley loosens, and the toy falls to the floor, lying there and proving that not every story gets a happy ending. Especially when the story is mine.

1 ?? ???????????? — Are you kidding me?

2 ????? — Fuck

Chapter 36

Come Home, Roman

NEVAEH

---