Page 43 of Bitter Truths

Stunned, we both stare at each other, and I step back in shock, an apology trembling on my tongue.

His jaw clenches, the muscle bulging as he asks, “Are you done?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, and he cocks his head to the side, his bright eyes flashing before he assumes his icy cold facade once more.

“Are you ready to hear what I have to say?” he says.

“Fuck you. Maybe I want you to feel, you icy cold dick!” I fling my arms around.

“I feel just fine,” he growls, grabbing my arms and shaking me. “You wanted to hurt me? Well, you did. Watching that stupid fuck touch you tore me up.”

“Right,” I rasp, “you were real torn up when you called her.”

“I didn’t call her. Besides, you left with him! How was I supposed to know you weren’t going to fuck him?” he bellows.

“I don’t know! But if you supposedly cared about me, then maybe you could’ve, I don’t know, abstained for a fucking night!”

“Halsey,” he says tiredly, pushing his hands through his hair. “How was I supposed to know? What did you do the last time to punish me? You vowed to fuck my worst enemy.”

With a gasp, I turn away, covering my mouth with my trembling hand because he’s right. It doesn’t matter what I do, I always end up right back where I started. The question is, have I learned my damn lesson?

“Hals,” he says, and I soak in the warmth of his body when he steps up behind me.

“I thought I could be like you and fuck whomever I want, and it wouldn’t matter. I was wrong.” I say.

“That’s . . . Hals, you think any of that mattered? It never did because none of them were you.”

“Whatever.”

He huffs out a bitter laugh and waves his arm around, “The last person you should want to be is me.”

Swinging toward him, I search his brilliant eyes, dark and shining. “And Miranda? Why?”

Shifting, he drops his gaze. “Because she’s easy.”

“That’s—”

“That’s not what I mean. She doesn’t expect anything from me.”

“Well then, that’s fucking sad for both of you,” I say, rubbing my aching chest.

Chuffing, he says quietly, “It’s always been you, Halsey. And yes, I made a huge fucking mistake, a lot of them, but I never stopped loving you.”

Staring at him wide-eyed, the words trip off my tongue before I can stop them. “It’s not enough.”

His brows drop over his eyes before filling with ice, his mouth stretching in a macabre smile. He steps back, and my heart seizes as a pit forms in my stomach.

“I deserve someone whose skin crawls at the thought of touching anyone but me. I deserve someone who will see past the lies and know the truth,” I whisper.

He flinches, the life fading from his eyes, and the void hurts my soul.

“That’s not me,” he says.

“No,” I whisper through the knot in my throat.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns away and exits my room quietly.

Once he’s gone, I collapse on my bed and stare at the ceiling for hours, dry-eyed before I fall asleep, dreaming of the boy who used to hold my hand and look at me as though I hung the moon.

---