Page 71 of Purity

I turn it off before twisting around. “What’s up?”

Something about her wary expression makes the back of my neck prickle. “Cole is outside. In his car.”

My stomach flutters, and I hate myself for it.

“He doesn’t want to come to the door because he doesn’t want to cause a scene with Mom and Dad around, so he DMed me on Instagram. He said you’re not responding to his texts.”

My throat grows tight. I haven’t even looked at his texts. I’ve been too terrified that I might slip back into being passive Livvy and tell him I take everything back.

“He has a bunch of your stuff that you left at his house,” Vanessa says. “I didn’t bring it in, because he asked if he could talk to you.”

My spine grows rigid. “I can’t. It’s too soon. I’m too raw.”

“I understand, but like…” Her eyes widen. “Livvy, he looks…like he’s sick. I think he’s really devastated about whatever happened with you guys.”

My heart squeezes, and I wish I could hug him. Why do I still have these instincts? Why do I want to comfort him when he’s the one who broke my heart?

Enough. I don’t need to comfort him, and I’m not too weak to see him.

I brush past my sister in the direction of the front door, taking several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. By the time I make it outside, my resolve is a little firmer.

I’m not going to talk to him today. We’ll have a heart-to-heart when I’m strong enough to put my needs above his.

He steps out of his car as soon I get close, and my sister was right. Jesus, help me, he looks awful. His eyes are dull, and his skin is bleached of color.

He clears his throat. “You left your dress and…I think maybe mascara or something. I didn’t want to bring them to the door with your parents at home.”

I nod. “My sister told me, but that’s not really why you came over.”

“No.” His voice is soft. “I was hoping we could talk.”

I take a deep breath. I can do this. “Not right now. It’s too soon.”

“This is hell.” His voice quivers.

Moisture starts to gather in my eyes. “I know. It’s not easy for me either.”

“When can I come back?”

I sigh. “I’ll text you when I’m ready. We can meet somewhere and talk everything out.”

When his face lights up, I lift a hand. “We’re just going to have a conversation. I’ll let you talk, because I know I left abruptly yesterday, but I really don’t anticipate anything changing between us.”

When his shoulders slump a little and his expression grows remote, I wish I could reach and touch him.

“That’s understandable.” His voice is so faint, I only just make it out.

When his eyes grow bright and misty, I walk quickly in his direction and reach for the paper bag in his hands.

I need to get away fast. His despair is squeezing my resolve into dust.

As I grip the handle of the bag, his thumb brushes over my hand, and just that small touch sends an electrical current up my arm. When I look up at him, his gaze is boring into mine, his expression so full of longing my heart falls into my stomach.

I turn around and walk quickly into the house.

When I make it to the staircase, Vanessa approaches me. “Dad is pissed,” she mouths.

My brow knits, and a moment later, my dad walks out of the kitchen. “What’s in that bag?” His tone is full of accusation.

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