Page 7 of Open Secrets
“What I’m saying is… I think it would hurt less if we ended it now. As friends.”
Her voice broke as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t answer. I stood there, frozen, replaying the speech I had rehearsed. The photos I had printed at the drugstore — they had cost me a week’s pay check. How I was going to tell her she was it for me, forever.
Instead, I turned, walked back to my car, and left her crying on the curb.
I didn’t remember the drive. Just the ache in my chest and the weight in my pocket. Somehow, I ended up at Conner’s, music blasting, people yelling like freedom was something you could drink.
I went straight to the liquor, grabbed whatever was closest, and drank until my throat burned.
Bellamy dropped onto the couch beside me, red cup sloshing over her shirt. She didn’t even flinch.
“Where’s Maria?” she asked.
“She dumped me.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
I shrugged.
“Sorry,” she said softly.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I was gonna propose.”
Her mouth fell open, but she stayed quiet.
“I had pictures printed,” I added, flat. “I was gonna give them to her, tell her the only thing I wanted saved when the world ended was us. That I wanted to spend my life with her, however long it lasted.”
Bellamy breathed out. “Wow. Did you tell her?”
I shook my head. “No. The love of my life dumped me and I walked away. Didn’t even… say anything.” My voice dropped to a whisper.
“Come on,” she said gently. “I’ll drive you.”
I glanced at her cup. “That’s full.”
She smirked, tipping it. “There’s a reason it’s still full.”
I hesitated. “You sure you wanna leave?”
Her eyes flicked to Conner across the room, tongue buried in someone else’s throat. “Positive.”
We headed to my car, but she snatched the keys before I could stop her. She twisted them, and the engine sputtered, coughing up black smoke.
Bellamy shot me a panicked look.
“You gotta shift gears first,” I muttered, waving her off as I stepped out. “It’s fine. I’ll walk.”
She stared at me like I’d lost it. “She lives miles away!”
I smirked, tossing the words over my shoulder. “I’ve got experience walking these woods.”
And before Bellamy could argue, I slipped into the tree line.
The night air was thick, damp against my skin, the woods stretching ahead like a dare. It wasn’t cool, no matter how I tried to play it. The first branch whipped across my face, stinging sharp, and I cursed under my breath, swiping at the welt. The second snagged my shirt, tearing the fabric with a sound that made me wince.
“Smooth,” I muttered, shoving forward.
