Page 38 of Theirs to Ruin

Please don’t get involved. Honestly, I’m good. Love you.

Love you more xoxo

By the time I reached my dorm building, I was ready to dive into studying. I was unlocking the door to the two-bedroomapartment I shared with Ava when I heard a noise from inside. I’d been sure she would be at the party, giving me the place to myself. I pushed away the urge to walk away. This was my apartment too—at least until my request to switch apartments was granted and I found somewhere else to live. I unlocked and opened the door.

Ava sat on our couch wearing an unzipped puffer jacket, a glittering sequined top and tight, faded jeans. The glow of her laptop screen illuminated her beautiful face, blond hair, and golden eyes. She looked up as I stepped inside, her eyes gleaming like she knew some deep, dark secret. Something about her expression worried me.

“No lake party?” She snapped her laptop closed and stood up.

I gave her a tight smile. “Nope, I’m home for the night.”

Her expression turned cruel. “Of course you are. Why would a loser like you do anything remotely fun or cool?” Her voice dripped with scorn.

“You’re not there, either,” I pointed out.

Ava tucked her laptop under her arm. “Oh, I was just doing a little research. You know, learning things can besoenlightening.”

I glowered at her. With Ava, information was ammunition. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d found and whether it was about me.

"What kind of research?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice neutral as she walked into her bedroom then came back without the laptop.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Before I could respond, she slung her purse over her shoulder and started for the door. "I've got a party to attend. Don’t wait up."

It took every ounce of my self-control not to lash out. Despite how horrible she’d been, I tried to remember what Dante hadsaid. Maybe he was right and this wasn’t personal. Maybe Ava really was in pain.

“Goodbye, Ava,” I said quietly. “I trusted you. I wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me what changed between us.”

She froze with her hand on the doorknob. Slowly, she turned back to face me.

I blinked. Ava almost looked guilty. And wistful. As if she wanted to come back in and plop down on the couch and pick up her knitting and gab with me the way we did last year. “Then I’ve taught you a good lesson. You can’t trust anyone in the end. Youalwayshave to hide some part of yourself away.”

Her words, the expression on her face, made me take a step forward. “Ava?—"

“Goodbye, Camille,” she said, the hard glimmer back in her eyes. She turned on her heel, walked out and slammed the door shut behind her.

I was left more confused than ever. And furious that I’d once again fallen for her bullshit.

When I entered my room, my eyes were drawn to the bulletin board that held so many memoires for me, including pictures of Ava when we’d been friends. I walked up to the board and snatched up the pictures of her, tearing each one into pieces and throwing them on my floor. Breathing heavy, I checked to make sure I hadn’t missed any Ava pictures when I saw the ribbon from the bouquet Ty had given me on our second date. Just like his drawings and the ring he’d given me, which were in a box in my closet, I’d never been able to get rid of that ribbon.

Fuck, what was wrong with me? It had taken me until now to get rid of Ava’s pictures. And that damn ribbon…

I reached out to yank it off the board but as soon as I pinched the soft fabric between my fingers, I started shaking. Memories of my time with Ty barreled down on me.

I’d just finished my junior year of high school and Italy had been an escape, a summer away from arguments with my dad about where I was going to college. I met Ty on my first day there after I managed to get hopelessly lost in Rome's winding alleys.

I had been entranced by the boy with bronze hair, the perfectly chiseled jaw, the lean but powerful physique, and the most beautiful pair of gray eyes that I would later learn changed with his moods—sometimes as stormy as the tempestuous sea, other times as serene as a placid lake.

But his Mediterranean charm wasn't just skin deep. He was brilliant, and had a laugh that was infectious, a voice that resonated with warmth, and charm that was irresistible.

We had spent the summer together exploring the historic ruins and sharing gelato by the Trevi Fountain. Nights found us dancing under the stars during local festivals, his hands firmly holding mine, leading me into a whirlwind of music and laughter. My second favorite thing had been watching him draw. I often sat by his side, watching those skilled hands move, completely enamored by his talent and the way his brow would furrow in concentration. With Ty, Rome wasn't just a city, it was a living, breathing story.

But my very favorite thing about him was how he seemed to love me, no matter what. He hadn’t flinched when I’d confessed my family’s legacy, telling me without missing a beat that his own parents circumvented the law, and that our parents didn’t define us. He told me that he loved me for me. And I believed him.

Then, out of nowhere, it was over. He ended it.

And damn it, now I was crying.

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