Page 2 of Wrong For You

I let my hand drop with the weight of his rejection. His use of my nickname is a hammer to my crumbling heart. I turn away from him to shield the hurt streaming down my cheeks.

“I thought we had something special,” I whisper into the dark. Our chance at happiness goes up into thin air with my foolish dreams.

“It’s better this way. You and I weren’t meant to last.”

My eyes squeeze shut, sending more sorrow down my face. “Don’t be cruel.”

He kicks the dirt and a rock rolls toward me. “Nah, I’m being honest.”

Which delivers the parting blow. There’s nothing left to discuss. If he wants to pretend our relationship is that disposable, I can play along.

I give myself two more seconds to mourn what could’ve been. The ache in my chest doesn’t cease, but I don’t reveal the cracks splintering through me. My heart pumps and air continues to flow into my lungs. On the grand scale of shitty situations, this bump in the road doesn’t deserve mention.

My sandals grind into the ground as I spin to face him. I ignore the burn spreading from behind my breastbone.The grin I force to appear might as well be made from plastic. But I’m the picture of acceptance.

I swipe at my wet cheeks to erase the leftover evidence. “You’re right. It’s for the best.”

Jake rocks backward. His lips part and press together to a disjointed tempo. For the first time, he seems to flounder for a response. “Yeah?”

My head bobs in agreement. “I’m leaving for college at the end of August. There’s a dorm room on campus with my name on it.”

And I couldn’t get there fast enough after this relationship demolition.

“Thought you were commuting?”

“Plans change,” I clip.

Something painful flickers over his features before he smothers it. Then he’s the mask of indifference. “Right.”

“So, I guess this is goodbye.” My voice cracks, but I ignore the stumble.

Jake squints at me. “You’re good with this?”

“Absolutely.” I laugh, but the tone is humorless. “And congratulations. You’re gonna be a dad.”

His eyes blow wide, and he drags a hand through his dark hair. “Shit, that’s weird to hear.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Not much of an alternative, huh?”

“Good luck.” My smile wobbles with the farewell.

He pauses to study me again. “Why are you acting so chill?”

“My pity party came to an abrupt end. You told me to knock it off, remember?”

A breeze stirs at that moment. He glances at the swaying branches above. I allow my gaze to follow his lead. What little brightness still exists on this day shines through the leaves. It offers us much-needed peace.

His stare is unfocused when he looks at me next, but determination squares his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Harper.”

“Don’t be.”

“But—”

“You’re starting a family. There’s nothing sorry about that.” Or that’s what I’ll trick myself to believe.

Jake’s sigh sounds heavier than the elephant crushing my chest. My throat clogs as conflict pinches his somber appearance. He fidgets, curling his fingers into white-knuckle fists. Muscles bunch and twitch beneath his shirt. It almost looks like he wants to reach out to me. But then, just as before, his features return to their stoic state.

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