Page 35 of Bitter Truths

I’m not sure what I could do in this headspace, but I know it’s not fucking good.

∞∞∞

Griffin greets me with a smirk in art class, sliding into the seat beside me. In a moment of sheer weakness, I soak that smile in because for years, he never so much as glanced at me unless it was with derision and distaste.

This Griffin is the one I knew before, the one who was my everything, and oh how I have missed that friend, but while I was longing for the old days, he was baiting my rapist. No amount of beautiful smiles can erase that reality.

Screwing my face into a cool expression, I greet him stiffly. “Griff.”

His expression wavers before he shores it back up and says huskily, “Sweet.”

Glancing at my notebook, where my pens are lined up in a neat little row, I say quietly, “Griffin, I’m not your sweet. I’m not your anything.”

After an awkward pause, he says just as quietly, “Maybe not, but you will be.”

“How do you figure?”

“Hals,” he says softly, and my gaze flies to his, where he’s looking at me with liquid hazel eyes, “I know I fucked up. And I’ll never forgive myself, but you’re the one. I’ve said it before, I know, and I’ll say it a thousand fucking more times if I f have to. You’ve always been the one. I can’t imagine, after all the lies and horrible shit, that we could let this slip away.”

“Griff,” I say helplessly, my stomach churning at his words. I want so badly just to give in, but he doesn’t deserve it.

He’s the same guy who looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t care who you fuck as long as it’s not me.” I left that night a shell of who I was, and I’m still fighting to reinvent the girl who died.

I loved him, viscerally and with everything I had. I stupidly waited for him to come to his senses. I hoped and prayed for this very thing while he fucked every girl with big tits and zero personality, ensuring I understood just how much he hated me.

There is no redemption for us. Ever.

Before I can say more, the professor emerges, and I immerse myself in the lesson, but it’s not so enjoyable this time around. And with a lead weight pressing heavily on my chest, I leave, frustrated because I took this class to soak in the knowledge, and with Griffin next to me, I can hardly pay attention.

He doesn’t get to force me into his mold, but I guess it’s up to me to show him just how painful betrayal can be.

Chapter Nine

What do you do when you have nothing left?

HALSEY

It’s Friday night, and I wrangle Aaron into going to Griffin’s party with me. If he’s here, I won’t fuck Griffin—I hope. I wouldn’t have come at all, except I’m eager to torture the shit out of him.

Despite his heartfelt words, I can’t let go of the burning pain that keeps me awake at night staring at the ceiling and imagining his face when he said whatever he did to Jason that horrible fucking night.

And maybe I should forgive, but I can’t. I want him to bleed just like I did while I stared at the same stars we used to wish upon and prayed for the moment to be over. I want him to see the ugly writhing below my skin and feel the dirt permanently embedded there. Maybe then I can let this go. Maybe.

Still, I’m hesitant to do anything because of how he’s been acting toward me. Even as I hate, I want, and he finally sees me, he’s finally speaking to me.

When we enter his house, packed from wall to wall with people, the first thing I see is some chick standing out back right beside him, staring at him like rainbows shine out of his ass. I huff. That used to be me. But the dick can’t see pasthisdick, and I’m tired of the fucking lies.

Aaron and I grab a drink and find a wall to stand against while he looks around with bright eyes. “Why are we here again?” He knows I’m angry with Griff because it’s not a secret when we’re around each other.

“It’s a party,” I say with a shrug, avoiding his gaze.

After an awkward moment where I’m sure he’s staring at me with dismay, he says, “Hals . . .”

Glancing around casually, I sigh at his expectant silence. “I just . . . I don’t know. I told you, Griffin and I have a long history, and I want to . . . I want to show him how much he hurt me.”

“Uh, what?”

I look into his kind brown eyes and see genuine confusion but also concern. It’s this that inspires me to be honest, even though saying the words out loud sends a flush of heat to my cheeks. I know how stupid it is, even as I can’t talk myself out of it.

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