Page 171 of Did They Break You

He had cooked dinner that night for himself, leaving nothing for me. Not unusual. I learned how to cook from an early age, but that night, I felt like I might puke from the pain. I shoved down three Tylenols and cried into my pillow.

Looking at Cortland now, I don’t tell him any of this.

I just say quietly, “It doesn’t matter,” offering him a small smile even as pressure builds behind my eyes.

He grips my chin, tilting my head up. “It matters to me.”

I’ve never told anyone about Silas. Sometimes, Sloane’s mom would pry, but I instinctively knew if I told her too much, something bad would happen to me.

And he was gone a lot on business trips, meetings and things I didn’t care about or understand, not thathecared what I thought about his work. He didn’t expect much from me, even though I was in cheerleading, never got anything less than an A in every single class… it didn’t matter.

My scholarship didn’t matter. Perfect attendance. It didn’t matter. All the ways I tried tonotbe like my mother didn’t count. It’s like he was waiting for that one moment I was going to fuck up.

And when I walked in the morning after the party that changed everything, that was it.“You’re just like your fucking mother.”

“I don’t know,” I tell Cortland, still staring into his gray eyes. I feel the tears welling in my own, and for once, I don’t try to bury them. If I dig any deeper, I might hit my soul,and if that cracked, I don’t think I’d have anything left. My lower lip trembles as I stare up at him in the night. “It’s just… my stepdad… he didn’t really care about things like injuries.” I smile, but I feel it, the first tear falling, warm and wet down my cheek. Cortland’s eyes dart to it, then back to me.

I want to bury my head in my hands. Escape into this hoodie so he can’t see my pain.

“So, I just got through it,” I tell him. I laugh a little, even though my heart feels like it’s breaking. “And besides, my ankle is fine.”

He doesn’t smile. He just keeps holding my face, mypain, in his hands. “Has anyone ever taught you what love looks like, Remi?” he asks.

I swallow, feeling shame burn through me, like a pit in my stomach. My anger flares as I face his pity. I grit my teeth, close my eyes a second, more tears clinging to my lashes. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

His lips press against my cheek, right under my eye. “I don’t,” he whispers, his mouth against my skin. “How could I pity a girl with so much fire? That’s like feeling sorry for the sun because it burns so fucking bright.”

I blink my eyes open, brows pulled together.

“If anything, I’m jealous.”

I shake my head, wiping the back of my hand over my eyes as he straightens, his head cocked as he looks at me with kindness in his eyes. “Why?” I manage to choke out.

“You didn’t burn out.” He swallows, his fingers splayed along my jaw as he looks down between us. “Even after… everything.” He looks up at me again through thick, dark lashes. “And you still feel things. That aren’t fucking anger and bullshit.” He moves his arm from my shoulder, releasing my jaw and shoving up the sleeve of my hoodie, moving my thumb from the hole. Heflips my hand, forcing me to see how I hurt myself as his index finger splays over my healing cuts.

I watch him swallow, watch the light of the fire dance over the wounds.

“I know what they said about you. None of its true. It’s not fucking true, and if your stepdad…” His jaw tightens as his grip does too, keeping my chin tilted up, so I’m forced to face him. “If he ever said or did anything less than defend you, he has no fucking idea what he has. You’re a gift, Remi.” He swallows again. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like… anything less than that.”

I pull my knees closer to my chest on the blanket, the fire crackling at our side. “You used me,” I tell him, my voice breaking on a sob. “Youdidmake me feel like that, Cortland. I never expected anything good from him.” I take a steadying breath. “It wasyouI thought was better.”

He swipes a tear away with his thumb, but he doesn’t look away from me. “I know what I did,” he says, his words low. “Just… can we not talk about it tonight?”

I blink at him, at the kindness he showed me evaporating, just like my tears. My grief. It turns to fire instead, burning just like he said I did. I’ve wanted to discuss this for so long, even before he transferred. I’ve wanted to know so many things. Now, we’re talking about it, and hedoesn’t want to.“So you can handle all the pain everyone else caused me,but not what you did?”

He stands, dropping his hands, threading his fingers together behind his head as he stares out at the sky.

I glare up at him from my spot on the blanket.

“What do you want from me, Remi? You want a formal apology? You want me to turn myself in?” He turns to glare down at me, dropping his hands by his sides. “You want me toserve time?” He laughs, but it’s angry as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip. “What the hell do you want?”

I get to my feet, wiping the tears from my eyes, my hoodie sleeves over my hands. “Fuck you, Cortland.” I glance at the tent he set up. “I’m sleeping in the truck. Or you can take me back. This is never going to work.” It breaks my heart, saying those words, but for now, the anger keeps all the pieces together. I stalk to his truck, reaching for the handle on the driver’s side, but before I can get to it, he’s behind me, spinning me around, pushing me against the door.

“It’s not?” he questions, his eyes narrowed, voice full of malice. “Then why’d you come here, baby? Why’d you let me fuck you, huh? Storm, too?”

I keep my hands by my sides, my heart pounding painfully fast in my chest. “I don’t want to fight tonight. Just let it go.”

He grips my hips and I suck in a breath, pulling my lip between my teeth.

---