Page 22 of A Love That Broke Us
ALLEY
PRESENT DAY
I waitedforty minutes for him. Twenty minutes too long. Twenty minutes past embarrassment settling in. Twenty minutes more than anyone deserves. Forty full minutes of hope crumbling. Forty minutes of fear sinking into my chest, of anxiety tearing through the walls I’ve carefully built around my heart—opening old wounds that never fully healed.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here. Not now.
I walk out of the restaurant into the pouring rain, not caring that I’m getting soaked. At the curb, I raise an arm, hailing a cab. Moments later, I slide into the backseat, giving the driver my address.Ouraddress.
Goddammit. Where is he?
The knot forms in my stomach, anxiety swelling, rising through my chest, closing off my throat.
I’m going to be sick.
I pull out my phone, swiping up to my text thread with Christy. My fingers hover over the screen as I reread the last text she sent overa month ago.
Christy
I don’t want to argue anymore, Alley. He’s my son. You don’t know how hard this is for me, and you won’t understand until you have kids of your own.
My chest constricts, and my hands tremble. I take a deep, steadying breath. Christy is thelastperson I want to text right now.
I blink rapidly, resisting the urge to cry.Dammit. This hurts. And it sucks.How did things get so messy between us? I remember the first time I met her. It was instant love.
I text Megan instead.
Hey… Have you seen or heard from Jensen today? He was supposed to meet me for dinner forty-five minutes ago. It’s our anniversary… I’m starting to worry.
Megan
No… I haven’t talked to him for a few days. You okay? Need me to come over?
No, it’s fine. Just lmk if you hear from him.
I drop my phone in my lap as the screen lights up again—another message from Megan. With effort, I force my gaze out the window, watching the rain pelting against the glass as we pass Madison Square Garden.
I don’t have the energy to respond right now. I bite my bottom lip hard, fighting back tears. Resting my elbow against the door, I let my head fall against my hand as I lose the battle against myself. Tears slip silently down my cheeks, and I sob quietly in the backseat of the cab.
Chapter Eight
ALLEY
THEN—A LITTLE LESS THAN FIVE YEARS AGO
We’reall gathered in Jensen’s parents’ spacious living room, the fireplace blazing warmly behind us, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner. And currently in the middle of complete mayhem.
“Harry Potter!”
“Santa Claus!”
“Dobby the elf!”
“Oh my God, Dad!” Megan yells, chucking a pillow at him. “Not everything is Harry Potter!”
“Voldemort!” Jensen’s dad shouts triumphantly, completely ignoring her.
“Is he even trying?” someone mutters under their breath.
