Page 141 of Shattered

“It’s not exactly in the way you’re thinking.” He rushed after her. His eyes were red with unshed tears. “Jesus, Sam. You look like you’re about to have a stroke.” He reached out to touch her arm, and she physically recoiled.

“That’s a pretty good representation of how I feel at the current moment.” She was practically spitting the venom-laced words at him.

He reached out and grabbed a glass from the table, poured himself a drink and threw it back in one swift motion, then cleared his throat.

“Just do me a favor. Let me get this entire story out before you take your side.” He pointed at the chair beside her. “You might want to take a seat.”

Sam didn’t want to sit.

She didn’t want to do anything but punch him and kick him and hate him for all eternity.

She wanted to leave.

“Please, Sam. We have been best friends for the better part of fifteen years. You know me better than anyone else.”

She scoffed at that. Her feet begged to move forward and away from him.

“At least hear me out.”

She didn’t move.

Christian pushed the chair out next to him. “Just sit and talk with me. Do I not at least get that after fifteen years?”

She felt her heart break for what she was about to lose. What she had already lost. That anger was still there, growing in intensity with each passing second. She was sure the beads of sweat that fell off the sides of her water bottle matched the ones now rolling down the back of her neck.

She popped open her water bottle and downed half its contents, begging for relief from the heat, and hoping she would have the courage to let him know that their fifteen-year friendship was now coming to an end.

“I’m giving you five minutes, and that is only because of our past. After that, I plan on never seeing you ever again.” Her lips trembled with the words. She was losing a part of herself with him.

He buried his face in his hands. He lifted up more than once, mouth agape as if the words were about to spew forth, and then his face would fall back into his palms.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The five minutes he’d requested were long gone, and she had just about decided to stand and walk out when he finally looked at her.

With a final deep breath, he spoke, “Are you and Callum officially a thing?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not why I’m here.”

He cracked a knuckle. “Just answer the question.”

She was gripping the arm of the chair so tight her fingers were practically white. “What does it matter who I’m with?”

His too-quiet words dripped with barely restrained rage.“Because you are supposed to be with ME.”

He ran his hands through his hair.

She flinched when he slammed his fist down on the top of the table.

“What?” Her eyes went wide at his abrupt change in demeanor. He didn’t get to be angry. Not now. Not after she’d found out this horrible truth.

“You and me.” He pointed a finger between them. “You. And. Me. That’s how this is supposed to end. Not you and Callum fucking Barker.”

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this conversation.

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