Page 211 of Did They Break You

I get out, locking the car behind me as I walk up to his porch.

Then I see him. Cortland.

In the shadows.

He’s at the end of the porch, his hands over the railing, the pale-yellow light not quite illuminating him entirely. He’s a tall shadow, his head bowed, shoulders curved inward.

But I know he knows I’m here.

He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, and I notice he’s in a white shirt, running shorts. “Remi, you need to leave.”

There’s a heaviness in my limbs as I stop walking, one foot on the bottom step, other still planted on the sidewalk. I fist my keys in my hands, thinking of my fight with Van. Cortland was the only one who would get it. The only one who’d understand at all. Cortland and Storm and…

“But I?—”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he still doesn’t look at me, “but you have to go.”

My vision seems to blur. The humiliation and hurt reminds me of Silas. Of how he always looked at me. How he spoke to me. How he pushed me away at every turn.

“What?” I whisper in the night, a cool breeze lifting the hair on the back of my neck. But I don’t feel cold. I feel like my thoughts are shattering. Running from Van, here, to the only people who get it… this was supposed to make it all better.

Last night, I thought we were movingforward.He knew I was going to tell Van. He didn’t seem to mind. And we started chipping away at all of our ugly truths. We were working on things.

Last night, in his bed, he told me he couldn’t let this go.

After a moment of me holding my breath, he lifts his head, his eyes lined with thick circles, locking on mine. “Please go.” His words are hoarse, but there’s no yielding in his gaze. Like no matter what I say, he’s not going to change his mind.

I come up the steps, turn to face him as he straightens, his hands flexing and clenching by his sides. I feel dizzy, but I step forward and watch the wariness in his gaze, a vein in his neck straining against his skin.

“I just met with Van,” I say softly, deciding to ignore his words to me to leave. Maybe he’s going through something. Maybe something is going on with his family, or maybe even Storm, but he’s not really going to tell me to leave him. “He didn’t understand?—”

“No one understands, Remi, because it doesn’t make sense.” Those words are cold, slicing through the warmth that’s been building up in me in hot waves since he first spoke. Before I can react, he’s closing the space between us, but he doesn’t touch me. And God, I want him to. “No one understands because this shouldn’t happen.” He’s so angry, his eyes narrowed, but his voice softens, and I wish it wouldn’t. “We’re just living in this fantasy world where things work out between two people like us and they just... don’t.”

I cock my head to the side and press my lips together.

His hands come to my arms, sliding up and down them. I can feel the calluses on his warm palms, and I wish I couldn’t. I wish I couldn’t feel anything that reminds me of how much I know him. How much I’ve forgiven him for.

“But that’s okay. You taught me so many things I’d never learn on my own, baby. And just like I said, I’ll never forget you. You know that, don’t you, pretty baby?”

He doesn’t get to do this.

He keeps gliding his hands up and down my arms and I open my mouth, unsure of what to say.Do I beg? Do I cry?“Don’t do this, Cortland. I don’t think I can handle?—”

“Ah, but you can.” He smiles, catching my fingers in his, pressing them to his lips. “That’s the beautiful thing, baby. Now, you can.”

My heart sinks. Cracks. This isn’t real.This isn’t real.“It’s my fault, isn’t it? I should’ve?—”

“No, pretty baby. That’s all on me.” He kisses the back of my hand again before he lowers it, letting go. Letting me go. “You were always too good for me, Remi.”

It feels like time has stopped. Like we’re frozen in this moment, his gray eyes on mine, the light on the porch illuminating the silver of his piercing. Shock and disbelief steal through me, and I don’t understand. I want to ask him why, I want to ask him what changed, but hurt morphs to anger and suddenly, I don’t want to ask him a fucking thing.

“You don’t get to do this.” The words are rough, but my heart is beating again. My mind is working. I push my finger against his heaving chest as I fling those words he said to me in the tent back to him. “You said I was yours, and I am. I’m yours, Cortland, and I’m part of this whether you like it or not.” I keep my tone ice cold.

Nothing.

Silence.

Just like Silas.

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