Page 115 of Bitter Truths

Wincing, I clench my hand. “You’re not a whore. But you could have made this far worse than it is, and it still could be. Were you thinking about that when you went to his fucking house—alone?”

“No,” she screams. “I was thinking that those dicks defiled me and shared it with the world. Which they wouldn’t have done if you had kept your fucking lips shut.”

My chest clenches so painfully I gasp before turning my gaze to the ceiling rather than look into her pained eyes. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” she mutters.

“Then I guess that fucking says everything,” I say, passing by her to the door.

My hand is on the knob when she says softly, “Griff?”

“I’ve got to go,” I cut her off, escaping out the door to my car where I fucking peal out and head home with a black cloud over my head.

Truthfully, until she admitted it at the kitchen table, I never believed Jason and assumed he was making it up to get a rise out of me. He fucking did.

He deserved what he got, and I don’t begrudge Halsey for trying to get back at them for the video. I just wish she had trusted me to be there, and yes, talk her out of it. Because her future is more important than those fucks. Besides, I’d have been happy to kill the fucker instead.

Now, I don’t know where to go from here. Clearly, she still sees him when she looks at me, and I’d rather fucking die than know that. The thought makes me want to hurl, and I clench the wheel tighter as I turn the corner, ignoring Aaron passing in his car as I do.

I’m so fucked. This is so fucked.

∞∞∞

HALSEY

With my heart in my throat, I stare at the door where Griffin just left, regretting every single word out of my mouth, but I was backed into a corner, and I lashed out as we both tend to do.

Will we ever learn the error of our ways? I don’t know, but I wish I could make him come back, and now I don’t know if he even plans to.

I lied because I didn’t want him to know what I did, and although I don’t regret it, I’m also not proud of it. Shit.

Aaron walks in while I’m still staring at the door, and his brows drop when he sees my expression. “What is it?”

“I fucked up again,” I whisper miserably, dropping my eyes to the floor.

“Shit. Tell me.” Taking my hand, he leads me to the couch. And I tell him before crying into his shoulder and eventually passing into a fitful sleep.

The following day, I stand before the clinic, nervous butterflies swooping around uncomfortably in my stomach. This is my first session with my new therapist, but I’m worried about seeing Dr. Marks. Plus, I haven’t spoken to Griff. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, but I need to see him and tell him I’m sorry, and I plan to after my session. Okay, deep breath.

Checking in, I smile at the receptionist when she leads me back to the room but pause when Dr. Marks appears at her door.

“Oh, Dr. Marks, I didn’t know you were here,” the receptionist says with a chuckle.

“Jennifer went home sick,” he says with a smooth smile.

“Um,” I whisper, but he steps back and stares at me expectantly.

“Come on in, Halsey. Jennifer is out today, so I’m seeing her clients for her.”

The receptionist smiles and turns away, and mutely, I stare after her. Fuck me.

“Come in. We have much to discuss. My office is being fumigated, you don’t mind?” I follow his arm, staring into the room behind him, noting absently, that Jennifer has a matching potted plant in her room.

“Halsey?”

“Yeah,” I rasp.

“In.” His tone brooks no argument and dumbly, I force my legs to move when he frowns at me, stepping around him and into the room before sitting gingerly on the chair.

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