Page 40 of Verses

“All right.” Again, I sucked in a breath through my nostrils, reminding myself to be cool. “Why didn’t you tell me about your promotion at work?”

Finally, Kyle’s blue eyes connected with mine—and what I saw there was vitriol, disgust…far more anger than I’d been feeling.

It was hard for me not to have a visceral response.

He said, “Like you care.”

“That’s not the point. I thought you were partying, getting high…” Unspoken was also the worry that maybe he’d been sleeping around.

“Really fuckin’ nice, Hayley. I love how you just assume the worst about me.”

“You get off work in the morning but you’re gone all day,” I said, trying to keep my voice quiet and all but failing. “What am I supposed to think?”

He bit his lower lip, breathing through his nostrils as if also trying to maintain—but his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll think whatever you want.”

“Come on, Kyle. You know my concerns are legit.”

“No, Hayley. Here’s what I fucking know,” he said, raising his voice, completely unconcerned about anyone hearing what he had to say. In fact, it seemed like hewantedan audience for this shit. “You’re trying to be my mom, and that’s not gonna fly. You don’t understand me and you never will.”

I didn’t know why at the time, but those words hurt worse than any he’d ever flung at me. I’dneverunderstood him? All the years we had together and he believed I’d never seen inside his soul?

If that were true…it was because he’d kept it hidden the entire time we’d been together.

And it made my path forward crystal clear.

“You’re right.”

“We done here?” he asked, stepping off the platform, ready to go to work or wherever the hell he planned to spend the evening.

“Yeah. We’re done.” As coolly as I could, I added, “For good.”

When he started walking toward the door and didn’t even turn around to confirm what I’d said…I knew I’d made the right call.

The expression on Pedro’s face—disbelief, incredulity—made me realize he was still siding with Kyle. He was probably wondering how I could dump Kyle in his moment of need.

LikeIwas chopped liver.

“Don’t you dare say shit, Pedro.” I grabbed my jacket and put it on as I headed outside. When I heard the guys saying my name, I knew they thought I was going to resume the fight with Kyle out on the street.

But I had no such intent.

I had to get the hell out of there, because I’d barely made it outside before the tears started dropping, barely brushing my cheeks before falling to the sidewalk. Fortunately, Kyle was already backing his car out of the spot up the street and likely didn’t see me walking the other way toward the apartment.

As I stormed down the street barely noticing how the wetness on my cheeks turned cold when the air hit my skin, I plotted angry responses.

I could throw Kyle’s shit out the window.

Call his mom and tell her I was sure he was using again.

Find a wire cutter and break all the strings on his guitar.

Jesus, I wanted to lash out…but the walk managed to calm me down. By the time I got to our apartment, the anger had dissipated, followed by sadness.

And a hollow feeling.

But the weirdest sensation was…relief.

---