Page 16 of Loving London

Oddly, that’s the scariest part.

I know I would disappoint her, and I wouldn’t be able to stand another failure.

I know that the right thing to do is to break up with her face-to-face. But I’m not prepared for the full-blown devastation that would hit my heart if I saw London again. I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m hanging on by a thread. A London sighting would snap the thin fiber holding me together, and I would crumble. There’s only so far one can fall before they can never get up again.

Yeah, I’m a coward. An asshole. A jerk. A deplorable human being.

But I’m here, and I’m alive. For now, that’s going to have to be enough.

My thoughts are silenced by Sarah’s return.

She stands above me. “Well, she’s gone, and I think she got the picture.”

“You weren’t mean to her, were you?”

Sarah looks appalled. “No, of course not.”

“Okay, good.” I exhale a shaky sigh of relief. Along with the air from my lungs, some of the tension escapes me.

“Great. I’m going to go finish dinner,” Sarah says before walking around the couch to head back into the kitchen.

London’s gone.

That thought is as equally depressing as it is satisfying, but truthfully, all I can feel is relief.

London

“Love is everything. It’s the only thing.”

—London Wright

“You’re hurting me.”

Loïc’s words have been echoing through my mind since his pained voice uttered them over the phone two weeks ago.

How was I hurting him when all I wanted to do was love him, help him, and simply be there?

It doesn’t make sense. Any of it.

I’ve had to stop myself from driving to his place every day. It’s been so hard, too. Staying away from Loïc when he’s so close has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

I crave him. Desire him. Need him. More than anything in my life.

My body vibrates with an unsettling urge to go to him, so much so that it’s physically painful.

Paige and I gave up sugar for a week a couple of years back. I can’t remember why exactly. We must have been on some new health kick. Anyway, all I remember is how hard it was to kick sugar. I never realized that sugar is an addiction. When a body is used to having it and it doesn’t get it, you go through withdrawal symptoms, as if you were coming off a drug. I recall, on day three of our sugar detox, we literally opened all the candy in the house, threw it in the garbage, and dumped a can of condensed cream of chicken soup on the pile of sweet goodness, so we wouldn’t be tempted to dig it out of the garbage and eat it later. That’s how bad it was.

Detoxing from Loïc feels the same way but ten times worse. So, I’ve completely disregarded my hygiene. I only shower when my hair becomes so oily that my scalp itches or my stink becomes too great, whichever one comes first. I’m a mess, ensuring that I won’t succumb to a moment of weakness and drive to Loïc’s to beg him to come back to me. Let’s face it; if I had any chance of getting him back, it wouldn’t be as this pile of grease.

Yet, the thing is, I don’t have a chance of getting Loïc back. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want us. I can’t for the life of me figure out why, but he doesn’t.

I suppose that’s what’s making this all so difficult—I can’t understand it. A voice in my head tells me there’s something more…something I’m missing. Yes, Loïc went through a traumatic experience. Yes, he’s heartbroken over Cooper. But shouldn’t he need me more because of those things? Wouldn’t our love make all that better?

Who knows? Maybe this is what it feels like to be the one who has been broken up with. I’ve never been in this position before.

But I don’t believe that either. What Loïc and I had was real, and nothing can convince me otherwise. I thought I was going to marry him. We were going to have beautiful babies, raise our family, laugh, love, and be happy. We were going to grow old together, our love never wavering.

But that dream’s gone.

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