Page 89 of Set on You

And worse, just when the comments were slowing down, just when I was becoming old news, buried by the next juicy scandal, the hate has ramped up all over again.

Scott regroups and stands, reaching for my hands. I wrap my arms around myself, avoiding his touch. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t let people bombard us with these asinine comments about how I must be cheating on you, or using you. It couldn’t be farther from the truth. I can’t let people say horrible things about the person I love.”

Love.

Everything comes to a screeching halt. My mind is akin to one of those plastic car-crash test dummies, flying forehead-first into the airbag. I’m jolted. Whiplashed. Frozen. Did he really just tell me helovesme? “What?” I manage through my shock, vision tunneling.

His gaze doesn’t waver, eyes locked to mine. “I said I love you. More than I can even put into words.”

“When did you decide this?” My voice comes out in barely a whisper. As the weight of his words settles onto my shoulders, I lower myself to the couch. He sits next to me, knees touching mine.

There’s a long pause, as if he really needs to think this through. “Since you peeled my clementine for the first time. That night we watchedLord of the Rings.”

Everything inside me clenches. Those three words are everything I’ve been dying to hear from him over the past month. On one level, he seems to be telling the truth, or at least he thinks he is. But saying it now feels like pity. Why not tell me the moment he felt it? He’s had plenty of opportunities since. Why wait until the worst possible moment? I desperately want to believe it’s genuine.But there’s a nagging doubt that won’t go away, no matter what he says. It’s the same doubt that’s seemingly clouded everything in my life since the photo went viral.

How canhebe in love with me if I’m not even sureI’min love with me anymore?

After the whirlwind of the past few days, it simply isn’t registering. “Scott, I just don’t know.”

His patience wanes. “Youjust don’t knowabout what? I just told you I loved you.”

“I’m so mad at you. You should have asked me first before you went ahead and responded.”

“I didn’t ask you because I knew you would freak out. Like this.” He waves a fed-up hand in my direction.

“This is social media 101. You never respond to your haters. Ever.”

“Even if they’re spreading lies?”

“Especially then.” A fresh swell of resentment rises in my throat. “Your comments look like my response to the whole thing. It makes me look weak. Like I needed you to go to bat for me publicly. Like the comments affected me. Like I hate my body and I need reassurance from someone like you.”

“But why is that such a bad thing? Why do you need to be the one to respond?”

“Because! It’s my image. It’s my brand.”

His lips twist in dismay. “Don’t you ever get sick of this? Tired of constantly getting shit on?”

“You know I do. But what choice do I have?” I run my palms down my cheeks in exasperation. It feels like I’m being forced to solve an unsolvable jigsaw puzzle.

“Why don’t you delete the stupid picture? It’s going to take a toll on you, little by little.” He trails off when he notices my grimace.

I should have known this was coming. “Scott. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a twelve-year-old in middle school. I’m so sorry about what happened to you. I really am. But this isn’t the same thing. Deleting one photo won’t change anything.”

He tosses his palms in the air, red-hot irritation flaring. “But look at what it’s done to you. You’re consumed by it. You have been since I met you. I’m concerned for you. This shouldn’t define you. You’re worth so much more. You are so much more than just this.”

“It’s not that simple.”

His jaw ticks. “How is this supposed to work if you continue to shut me out entirely? Every single time the idiotic internet trolls say shit about you?”

“I don’t know!” My voice comes out louder than I intended, and I find myself standing.

He scoffs, standing too, hands on hips. “You know, this is the entire problem with us. It always has been. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust me enough to rely on me when shit goes wrong. And you know what? I’m done trying to earn your trust. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“How can I trust you when you go behind my back like this?” I ask honestly, manically gesturing to the space between us. “I told you I was handling it by myself.”

He rakes a tense hand through his hair. “But that’s just it. You don’t have to do things by yourself anymore. That’s the entirepoint of a relationship. You have me now. We’re supposed to get through these things together. As a team.”

I’m quiet for a few moments. He’s right. My first instinct should have been tackling this together. And it wasn’t. It was the exact opposite. I kept it from him like a dirty secret, because, deep down, I was terrified he’d believe the comments. I was terrified he’d walk away from me.

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