Page 44 of Bitter Truths

And when I wake, I’m resolved—again.

No more Griffin Hathaway.

Chapter Eleven

If you can’t see my darkness, are you even seeing me?

GRIFFIN

Stalking to my car, I pull the door open viciously and slide inside. My hands are fucking shaking, and with a snort, I start the engine and pull away from the curb.

Although she didn’t think to ask, I found out where she lives via her roommate, who also exchanged numbers with me when I expressed my need to be contacted in an emergency. I still don’t know what’s going on with Max, and I’ve refused every overture he’s made to speak to me, but the fact remains, he’s a danger to her until I determine otherwise.

Halsey’s words cut me to the bone, leaving me bereft of air because it’s always just out of my reach.She’sout of my reach. She’s my everything, and apparently, she wants me to be her fucking nothing.

But I meant what I said about Miranda. She is easy, and more than anything, I know it’s easier to hide my pain and hate behind a cold mask and an easy lay. Halsey doesn’t understand, but when I couldn’t have her, I turned to every chick around her, and when the first didn’t ease the void, I did the next and the next until my incessant quest became an obsession to fucking forget her.

So yeah, I hung out with Miranda, but Halsey’s words sliced me to the core because I know how it felt to think she slept with David, and to hear her say what she did showed me something I was missing. She doesn’t understand my need, and I don’t understand hers. But I want to.

I just don’t know if it’s too fucking late.

Pulling into my driveway, I stare at Miranda’s car parked beside mine. I told her to go home, but apparently, she didn’t listen.

“Hey,” she says softly when I emerge.

“Hey,” I mutter. I’m in no mood for her or anyone else. Maybe that makes me a dick, but Miranda knows the deal. She always has because I confessed it all in a drunken moment of weakness, and she listened with a soft smile.

Maybe that’s why I returned her call, because she knows the drill, and when she grabs my hand and squeezes, I allow her to pull me inside with a dead feeling in my chest.

“C’mere,” she says in a husky tone, helping me to undress.

Numbly, I follow her lead, dropping into bed at her urging. After, she shuffles out of her clothes and slides in beside me, but I don’t feel her arms around me. I don’t feel her soft skin. I feel nothing but the burn in my throat that tells me I’ll never be whole again.

“Griff,” Miranda says softly, grabbing my dick and squeezing.

But I turn away and stare at the ceiling as she stills beside me.

If I can’t have Halsey, who the fuck cares?

∞∞∞

HALSEY

The following week is quiet as I trudge through my classes and ignore the weight pulling me down. Despite my resolve, I’m still human and hurting, but I can’t go back, and Griffin has already moved forward.

During therapy, Dr. Marks skips right over his assertions from before, which is just as well. I don’t need the reminder of my connection to Griffin.

When I sit down in art class after, I can’t escape the anxiety that rolls down my spine while I wait for Griffin to appear. To my disgust, I slump with relief when he shows, but he doesn’t even glance my way and sits toward the front, leaving me reeling once more.

I wanted this, and now that I have it, I’m fucking confused, but I will get through this as soon as I feel like I can breathe again. I don’t hear anything through the entire class and wait until he leaves to follow him from the building.

Blindly, I watch when he greets Miranda, who’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs before turning away with a bitter smile. I fucking hate him, and I hate myself, too.

Chapter Twelve

The ugly apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

HALSEY

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