Page 28 of Fools in Love

“You want that to be true, but it’s not. I just want you to leave.”

Her face turned to stone, my words doing the damage I’d intended them to.

“Remember that you’re the one who did this. When you’re all messed up later, wondering where it all went wrong, look in the mirror.”

Those were the last words she said before slamming my front door closed behind her.

I’d accomplished my mission of self-destruction. April was gone, and I was the one who had made her leave before she could do it of her own accord.

So, why didn’t I feel any better?

Hell.

That was what the past few hours had felt like. Pure torment.

Since April had walked out the door, I’d spent every minute pacing my apartment. I found myself staring out the window for who knew how long, waiting foolishly for her to come back, as if that would ever happen. I’d forced her to go, and now, all I wanted was for her to return.

My phone was permanently attached to my hand, my eyes constantly checking the screen for updates. If she texted or called, I didn’t want to miss it. But she hadn’t done either. Not that I expected her to, but there was an extremely selfish and unfair part of me that wished she would.

I was dying inside over what I’d done, and it would take very little effort for me to fix it. I knew that she would forgive me, but I still couldn’t bring myself to actually do it. My fear was more powerful than all my other emotions combined.

Just like I was sure her pride wouldn’t allow her to be the first to reach out. Chasing after someone who had been unkind to her didn’t seem like something she would do. April wasn’t desperate or needy or codependent. I respected that actually. Couldn’t even be mad about it. But, God, I couldn’t stop obsessing.

I needed to get the fuck out of this apartment. Where it still smelled like her. Where my sheets were still crumpled the way that she’d left them. Where the pillow was bunched up on one side from whatever the heck she’d done to it. Where the pizza boxes were still on the floor, where we’d abandoned them after devouring every last slice. Where the condom wrapper sat on top of my dresser, tormenting me.

After pulling on a pair of gray sweats, I grabbed a hoodie and laced up my Adidas. I was going for a run. The adrenaline always cleared my head and put me in a better mood. Digging through my workout bag, I pulled out my earbuds and put them in. There was nothing like jogging through the city with some kick-ass music playing while so many others did the same.

The air was mild, so the sidewalks and streets were jam-packed. It was always like this in the city after a storm or a cold spell. One taste of semi-decent weather, and everyone flocked outside to chase it.

I found myself weaving through the crowd, almost losing my footing once or twice, but quickly recovering. It wasn’t until I rounded the corner and found myself in an immediate construction zone that things got a little hairy. The music blared in my ears, and I couldn’t hear anyone or anything. I needed to drown out the noise. But when I lost my balance after tripping over some broken-up concrete pieces and fell toward oncoming traffic, I wished I could have heard the warnings. A strange man’s horrified expression met my eyes as he lunged forward to try to reach me before I hit the pavement.

Only I didn’t hit the pavement at all. I hit steel and metal. I saw April’s sweet face, her gorgeous hazel eyes, and her long hair in my mind, and I was instantly filled with regret over what I’d done that morning. In less than a second, I saw a thousand pictures, felt a million emotions, and knew exactly what needed to be done.

And then my world went dark.

NOT FAMILY

APRIL

I’d just gotten on the phone with Sheila, figuring that it would be best not to avoid her and get the scolding over with, when she got another call and put me on hold. I waited on the other line for her to come back, but when she did, her voice was shaking.

“There’s been an accident.”

My brain heard what she’d said, but I didn’t fully comprehend what that had to do with me.

“Okay?” I said the word like a question, still not getting it.

“It’s Robbie, April. He got hit by a car.”

I definitely processed that.

“What? Where is he?” I swallowed around the lump in my throat as a bunch of horrible thoughts raced through my head.

How bad is it?

What if he doesn’t make it?

What if he thinks I don’t want him?

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