Page 188 of The Perfect Love

Nick may not have let me say it was my fault, but he wasn’t there. He didn’t see the look in her eyes—he doesn’t have to live with the guilt I’m drowning in.

How could Chelsea forgive me for potentially helping the guy who raped her?

There’s a thread of hope still dangling inside me, but it’s fraying with every day she doesn’t come home or reach out. I want to go to her, but I’ve watched my friends fuck up enough shit that I’m scared to do that.

What if I push her before she’s ready to talk and she ends things?

I’m running out of arguments for why shewon’tbreak up with me.

Who am I kidding? It would be what I deserve.

And this… this has got to be part of my punishment too.

I sigh in relief when we finally get to my car.

I throw the passenger door open and look down at Sarah. “Get in.”

She looks at me for half a second, then flops into the seat. “That takes me back.”

“What?”

“You being bossy. Demanding. Is that still your thing?”

I grip the car door, trying not to scream. Funny how that was always my thing with her, but with Chelsea, I actually prefer submitting. I love what we do no matter what, but when she’s in control, I’m more present and not on.

Every part of me is better with her.

I’d give anything to have her in my arms right now. To go home and find her waiting there.

Fuck.

The only answer I give Sarah is, “Put your seatbelt on.” Then I shut the door and get around to the driver’s side, throwing myself into the seat and slamming the seatbelt into place.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, like a little kid who’s just been scolded.

I grunt as I put the car in drive and get us out of the parking lot.

“I’m mad about a lot of things,” I say after a minute.

She reaches over and runs her hand over my thigh, giving it a squeeze at a spot she really fucking shouldn’t.

“Jesus Christ, Sarah.”

I lift her hand and put it back on her lap. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, but it still pisses me off. It pisses me off that I’m dealing with her drunken bullshit because she’s shutting everyone in her life out while I’m desperately hoping that I’m not losing the girl I love.

“What?” she asks in confusion. “I used to calm you down. We were good together once, right? Till I ruined it?”

Oh, fuck. This is bad.

Sarah was always firm about why we ended. It wasn’t right. It took me some time to agree on that, but I eventually understood, and I get it even more now. I know it killed her to end it when she did since we were each other’s first everything, but that she’s still holding on to how hurt I was four years ago?

I’m still annoyed, but I soften my voice. “You didn’t ruin it. We weren’t right. We both know that now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” she whispers.

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