Page 138 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“That’s what you said in words, but then your actions proved that I’m no one to you.”

He scrubs a hard hand over his jaw. “Wow. This is, um, this is a bit much to take in. These last three weeks have been a living hell for me and I...I didn’t think it could get any worse. But, holy fuck, did you prove me wrong.” He slumps down, crouching in front of me as if all the strength has drained from his body. “You know, I expected you to be mad. I know I messed up, so I knew you’d be mad. I was expecting the fights and the arguments. I was expecting non-stop ranting, but you...you screwing another guy...” The words die halfway out his mouth, blending with the strangled sound he lets out. “I gotta say that wasn’t something I was prepared for. I stupidly thought it would take more than this for you to...give up on me.”

I watch him break down in front of my eyes, deconstructing piece by piece. He covers his face with both hands, and I can hear his shaky breaths beneath them.

He looks up, focusing his reddened eyes on me. “So, I guess that’s it, then?” His voice catches, and he drops his head again. I expect him to get angry, start yelling or call me a whore, but instead, he just gives a small nod like he believes he deserves this, and it rips through every-fucking-thing inside me because he doesn’t. He doesn’t deserve it. “Guys like me, we...we need to stay in our lane. I, uh, I am simply...not equipped to handle a level eight.”

Regret washes over me like a tidal wave, and I want to take it all back. I decide to give it one last try. If he tells me what really happened in those three weeks, I’ll tell him what really happened in that room.

“Dylan, please...please tell me what’s going on with you, just tell me what happened.”

“What does it matter now?”

“It matters!”

“No, it doesn’t. You made your choice.”

I nod, accepting that it’s time for me to stop trying. “And you made yours.”

After a minute or so, he stands up, but he doesn’t lift his head to look at me. “I’ll see you around, Bella.”

I keep my tears at bay as he walks down the porch stairs and across the pathway toward his car. He doesn’t look back once. His feet sync with the hard thump in my chest, my heart falling into rhythm with every step he takes as I watch him walk out of my life. And with each aching, longing beat, I feel myself crack open a bit more. I want to run after him. I want to throw my arms around him, tell him I’m sorry and take back everything I just told him, but I have to accept that this is the end for us. He’s not going to share that side of himself with me, and I can’t keep doing this to myself. It’s not healthy for either of us to maintain a relationship like this.

I silently say goodbye to Justin Bieber sing-alongs in the car and rose petals on the school stairs. I bid farewell to rooftop dinners and cheese puns. I mouth a sadla despedidato daily hugs and the cute way he sayswichu. And I part ways with a piece of my soul...because it leaves with him.

Even though my heart is breaking as he climbs into his Jeep, even though I’m yearning for him before he pulls away from the curb, even though I know I’m going to live with this regret for the rest of my life...I have to let him go.

20. Isabella

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