He does, slamming my front door behind him.
I spend the rest of the day crying and dozing on the couch, and no matter how many times I check my phone, no apology appears.
I can’t bring myself to apologize, either, can’t bring myself to think that this could have been anything but fake the whole time.
I got exactly what I wanted.
Luke Wolfe finally broke up with me.
So why does it feel like he broke my heart, too?
Chapter Thirty-nine
Luke
The somber strainsof Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major blare through my headphones.
A song I put on my playlist forher. Like it would help me figure her out.
“Fuck,” I say out loud, then increase the pace and resistance on my bike, trying to blot out the emotional pain with the fatigued burn of my muscles. It’s been two weeks since Abigail and I last spoke, since I took Princess home.
Gold, sweating his ass off on a bike a few spaces over, shoots me a meaningful look.
“Fuck off!” I yell at him, and he rolls his eyes, standing up in the saddle and refocusing on the day’s cardio set.
It’s not enough.
Every day for the past two weeks, I’ve worked myself to the bone with the faint hope of exhausting myself into sleep.
And every night for the past two weeks, I’ve stared at the ceiling and regretted everything, every single one of my choices.
Except Abigail.
I don’t regret spending time with her, getting to know her. Even the over-the-top absurd ridiculous version of her she was once Gold told her—
Fucking Gold.
He had the drunk courage to do what I couldn’t, and he told her the truth when I should have.
It’s stupid. All of it is so stupid, and I am so fucking angry.
My knuckles turn white on the handlebars, my bike flashing a warning on the screen about my RPMs being too high. I couldn’t care less.
I turn up the resistance more, the lactic acid buildup in my quads the punishment I deserve.
When I finally get off the bike, my legs are on fire. I cringe as I try to stretch out my aching muscles.
They hurt, but not as much as my foolish heart does.
How is it that Abigail managed to burrow into the deepest, darkest parts of me?
Now that she’s not around, with her quick wit and ready smiles, the truth comes crashing down all around me.
I’m lonely and sad. I think I have been for a long time.
And that’s all my fault, too.
I take out an earbud.