Page 53 of Yours to Break

Hearing someone actually say out loud that our friendship wasn’t healthy was like being seen and flayed open in the same breath.

It burned.

Lanehadhurt me—and I him—but I still missed him so much that it was torturous not hearing him, not texting him, not being with him. And when he’d hugged me, itdidfeel like things were right again, even if they never had been in the first place.

So what did that say about me?

Maybe I was just that desperate to be wanted. Or maybe I didn’t know how to stop clinging to the people who broke me, as long as they broke me gently with honeyed voices and soft caresses. I had hurt Lane, too, though. So did he also feel like this, but choose to love me anyway?

I peeked at Hayes, at the way he was watching me—too closely, too carefully, like he was cataloging every reaction. I hated him in that moment. Hated how calm he looked. Hated howunderstoodhe made me feel. Because he wasn’t wrong, and that terrified me more than anything.

I hated how I felt a gravitational pull towards him and Hudson, and how that pull was making it harder and harder to keep my distance. I wanted so badly to be cuddled up, the weight of their arms calming me like a dang weighted blanket.

It felt like nothing made sense anymore.

If Lane could hurt me and still be home, then what did that makethem?

Because somewhere along the way, without meaning to, they’d started to feel familiar too.

And I didn’t know what to do about that.

Hayes was eerily quiet as he just watched me, his head tilted, like he could see every fracture running through me. Every fault, every crack.

“You’re so used to surviving, pet,” he said ever so gently. “So used to chasing the crumbs people toss you and convincing yourself it’s a feast.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. It felt like he’d just shot me. My mouth continued to gape as the carefully crafted lies I was so used to telling myself rushed to the forefront of my mind.

You like being alone.

You don’t need friends.

You’re doing so well with the business.

You don’t need help.

You don’t miss having a family.

You don’t want a relationship that badly.

You like eating ramen for most meals.

You love your little apartment.

You didn’t want to go to college.

You’re okay.

“You love Lane,” Hudson said from behind me, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. “Even though he forgets about you. Even though he leaves you behind. How is it hard to believe we could care about you, too?”

I flinched, taken aback.

Care. They care about me?

It was the first time either of them had said something like that out loud. It didn’t sound right in Hudson’s mouth—it sounded foreign, like a borrowed word from a language he didn’t speak. But part of me still wanted to believe it.

I wanted itsogoddamn badly.

“You think we’re incapable,” Hayes said, his mouth close enough for me to feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. “You keep telling yourself that because it makes it easier to write us off. Easier to hate us. Easier to tell yourself that this isn’t exactly what you’ve always wanted. We’re here. We’ve stayed. Weseeyou.”

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