Page 113 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

My shoulders slump in defeat. “Theo thought it would be a great idea to prove he cares about me by making some big gesture in the locker room. Unfortunately, it blew up in his face, and Coach fired me.”

“No,” she murmurs in disbelief.

I squeeze her a little tighter. “Everything I worked for, Mia. It’s all gone.”

“Shhh... ” She guides me to the couch. I collapse onto the cushion, and she joins me, her expression pinched with concern. “Tell me everything.”

By the time I’m finished, I’m a blubbering mess with a wad of tissues in my hand. I can’t help it. I’m tired of being strong. Of getting back up again and fighting for a future I’m not even sure I want anymore.

“Fuck him, Blake,” Mia announces as I wipe beneath my nose with a tissue. “You should’ve let the bastard quit.”

“I couldn’t do that to him. He loves hockey.”

“I don’t care. He screwed you over.”

I bite my tongue to keep from defending Theo, especially when we both know he doesn’t deserve it. But it still hurts. My feelings for him. The loss of my internship. The sweetness of his insane gesture, no matter stupid it was. I told him. I told him it was a bad idea. I told him to wait. But he didn’t listen. Didn’t care enough about my opinion to take it seriously. And look who’s face it blew up in.

Sniffling, I suck my lips between my teeth and try to steady my breathing as I shrug one defeated shoulder. Because I don't know what to say or what to do. Not anymore. Nothing will fix this.

I don’t know if I should be mad at Theo or flattered or––

A loud pounding against the door echoes throughout the townhome, followed by a deep voice. “Open the door, Blake! Open it right now.”

My head falls in my hands, and I rub at the moisture clinging to my cheeks.

“I’m serious, Blake. Open the damn door. Now!” Theo yells.

Mia touches my knee and squeezes softly. “Do you want me to answer?”

I nod, then shake my head before nodding again.

I have no idea what I want.

“I’m going to answer it,” she decides for me. “What do you want me to say?”

“I dunno.” I sniffle again. “I can’t talk to him right now.”

With a sad smile, she pats my knee and stands up, heading to the door.

The hinges squeak softly as she opens it, but I lay on the couch in the fetal position to keep out of sight. I don’t want to face him. I don’t want to see him or talk to him. I’m too hurt to do anything but sit here on the couch and cry.

I can still hear him, though.

“Where is she?” he demands. Desperation taints his voice, making my heart squeeze in pain.

“She doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“Let me in, Mia,” he begs. “I need to fix this.”

“How?” she asks. “How do you think you can fix this?”

There’s a pause, and it acts like a knife in my chest. I don’t say a word. I don’t peek over the edge of the couch. I don’t do anything. I just sit here. Listening to the pain in his voice. Waiting for a solution that’ll fix this. There’s only one problem. I don’t know what the solution is. And I’m afraid Theo doesn’t, either.

“I’ll do whatever she wants,” he pleads.

“I’m not sure she knows what she wants right now. Aren’t you supposed to be at the game?”

“I don’t care about the game.”

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