Page 58 of What We Broke

Wordlessly, he pours me another drink, and this time I take it and don’t even bother to sip on it slowly. It burns the whole way down.

I slide the empty glass to him and he pours me another finger, and I drink it just as quickly.

The looseness my body was feeling from earlier has just turned into a mountain of unmatched emotions lodged inside my chest. I came here to get out of my house and clear my head, but I’m leaving feeling even more helpless and clueless than before.

I throw a few bills out in front of me and climb off the stool. The rush throws me off balance and I quickly hold on to the bar to catch myself.

“Wait,” the bartender calls out. “You’re not driving are you?”

I’m not, but after what I just went through with Leo, I could find it in me to be grateful he asked.

I shake my head. “No, I’ll book an Uber.”

He nods, satisfied with my response.

I pat myself down, checking I have my keys, wallet, and cell. As I turn to leave, I hear him call my name.

“Jesse.”

When I half turn my body to look at him, my face must show my surprise.

“Yeah, so I know your name,” he says unapologetically. “He talked about you a lot. And I’m not really one to get into a stranger’s business.”

At this I raise my eyebrows, because that’s not really how I remember it and he knows it.

“Okay, fine, whatever.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m just saying, if you guys can fix it, it’ll be worth it.”

I’m not going to argue with a stranger about the semantics of “whether we could fix it” versus “what the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do,” but I’ve definitely hit my limit for the night and I just need to get home.

There’s nothing left for me here besides the bottom of an empty glass, and I’m not going to find what I’m looking for there.

Without a goodbye, I exit the bar and eventually find my ride. It’s a short drive, where even small talk with the driver is too much for me to muster. I text Zara to let her know I’m home as I walk through the front door, and instead of making my way to my room, I take my shoes and socks off in the living room and find myself standing outside what’s now Leo’s bedroom.

The door is ajar, so I push it open and lean on the wooden frame. The low light of a bedside lamp fills the room. His arms and legs peek out of the blankets just enough for me to guess he’s wearing nothing more than briefs.

My own body stirs at the thought, but the residual anger of the evening still has my blood at a low simmer. He shifts against the sheets and, as if he can feel me standing there watching him, his head turns and his eyes slowly open, trying to adjust to the light.

His tired gaze gives nothing away as he stares at me expectantly.

“I thought you said you sleep in our bed when I’m not home,” I say, almost accusingly. “I guess you won’t do it now I know, because then I would think you actually gave a shit about us, right?”

“Jesse,” he breathes out. He sits himself up, exposing his naked chest. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” I scoff, pushing myself off the door and stepping into the room. “Because it kinda feels like everybody else fucking knows that you give a fuck except me.” My eyes sting and my voice cracks. “You want to tell everybody else but me you still love me and expect me to keep fucking going?”

“Jesse,” he says with a bit more urgency. “Listen.”

“I listen,” I shout, moving even closer to the bed. “I’m here waiting and ready all the fucking time and you give me crumbs, at best.”

He rises to his knees now, his body wanting to reach for me, but he can feel the anger radiating off me and he’s torn.

“Jesse,” he repeats, the tremble in his voice unmissable.

I can hear the words before he says them and I shake my head, vehemently. Only a breath apart now, I roughly grab his face as my heart bleeds between us. “Don’t you dare say it now.”

Leo opens his mouth, but before the three words I need the most eviscerate me, I slam my mouth to his, silencing him.

The kiss is hard and bruising, nothing but teeth and tongues, but even in my anger I don’t miss the perfection of how his mouth fits against mine.

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