Page 129 of Breakaway Hearts

“Callie, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, his voice strained. “Sienna always felt threatened by you. She asked about you all the time, worried that there was something between us. I didn’t even think when I said that—I was just trying to reassure her that I would never cheat on her or anything. And I never said you’re not my type. If she told you that, she was fucking lying. Because I’vealwaysbeen attracted to you. I’ve always thought you were gorgeous. Always. Even when I wasn’t supposed to notice how beautiful you are, even when I wasn’t supposed to think of you that way, I did.”

He means it. I can see it in his eyes, the burning sincerity there. Reese is telling the truth.

I know that.

But it doesn’t untwist the knot in my stomach.

“I can’t…” My voice cracks, and I take a breath, wiping more tears away. “I don’t know if I can do this. I spent so long in my relationship with Austin doubting myself and second-guessing myself. And I know you’re not like him, and that you’d never hurt me like he did. But with the way you and I got started, I’m afraid a part of me will always feel like I was your second choice.”

Everything that happened between us has been a whirlwind—the fake dating and the incredible sex and the stolen moments—but now it’s crashing up against the harsh realities of life.

Can the two of usreallybe together? Do we actually make sense as a couple at all?

Or have I been fooling myself all along, thinking that this thing between us could ever last?

We were walking on a cloud for so long, but the rain just broke. And the fall down to earth is going to hurt like hell.

“You’re not my second choice,” Reese says. His voice is starting to shake, and he takes several steps closer so that he’s standing in front of me. “I promise, you’re the one I want. Only you.”

My body sways toward him almost unconsciously, drawn by that invisible magnetic force that always seems to connect us. I want to fall into his arms, to block out everything else and go back to the little bubble of happiness we were living in. I want to pretend that everything he’s said has erased those little voices of doubt in my head.

But I can’t.

“Maybe it’s better if we just end this now, before it really starts,” I whisper, my heart aching. “That way, we’ll still have a chance of going back to being friends. We said we would stop this before either of us got hurt, and right now… right now, I’m hurting.”

“We said that when it was fake,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “But we’re together now. We’re actually dating, and couples work through that shit. They don’t run away from it.”

“Reese, please. I—”

He takes a step toward me, arms out to reach for me.

“Umbrella,” I whisper.

He freezes. I do too.

“Umbrella,” I say again.

Reese’s jaw clenches tight, every line in his face taut. But he nods at the sound of my safe word, the one we established at the beginning of all of this. I’ve never used it before, and the word hangs between us like a heavy cloud.

Lowering his arms, he takes a step back. My heart pounds in my ears, and I turn away before I can break down completely. We slept in my room last night, and I go to the closet and grab my suitcase, throwing clothes into it haphazardly.

How did I accumulate so many things while I was here? How did we end up building a life together in such a short amount of time?

“You can stay,” Reese murmurs as I zip my suitcase shut. His eyes are glazed, and he looks as wrecked and out of it as I feel. “You don’t have to go. I’ll sleep in my room. I’ll spend most of my time out of the house. Whatever you want.”

“My apartment is ready for me,” I remind him, my voice low. “It’s been ready for a little while now. So I’ll go back there.”

Tears leak from his eyes, and he brushes them away with the heel of his hand. My own tears fall harder, and I hate myself for hurting him. But I keep telling myself it’s for the best. It will only hurt more if this happens later. Better to do it now. Fast. Clean.

I call an Uber and then carry my suitcase down the stairs, even though Reese offers assistance. He opens the door for me and watches from the entryway while I get in the car. He’s still there even when we pull away and drive down the block.

I text my mom while we drive, asking her to meet me back at my old apartment, and she responds immediately that she’ll be there as soon as she can.

The building looks nicer than it ever has before, although it’s still nothing to write home about. I make my way up to my unit and use the key to let myself in. The door closes behind me, and I set my suitcase down and stare at the place.

The scent of wood and fresh paint fills my nostrils as I glance around.

It’s small and shitty, and what’s worse, it no longer feels like home. There isn’t warmth in it anymore. There isn’t a sense of familiarity. It’s an alien space, cold and unwelcoming, and I fall onto the couch as if the gravity here is exponentially stronger.

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