Page 103 of All Your Firsts

He swallows as he looks at what’s in my hands before gazing back up at me.

Regret is the first emotion that flits across his face before determination steps in. His eyes seem to burn with intensity as he takes a step forward.

“Don’t come any closer,” I choke out, my words catching in my throat.

“I can explain,” he says as he steps forward anyway.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“When? Because it sure as hell wasn’t after we met. Or after we kissed. Or even after I gave you my virginity. So, when? Once I became yours?”

“You are mine.”

A hysterical giggle bubbles out of me. I’m so fucking close to falling apart, but I refuse to do so in front of him.

“No, I’m not. I’m the idiot who told you everything when you asked even though you knew everything already.”

“I wanted to hear the words from your lips. Not on paper.”

Suddenly, a wave of crushing realization washes over me. The person I wrote to for years isn’t real.

Every written letter, every smile, every laugh, every tear shed. Fake.

“Rush doesn’t exist. He doesn’t—”

“I do. I’m right here,” he says as he points at his chest.

“You ruined one of the most important things I had left,” I say as I throw the letters at him. He and I both watch them land on the floor.

A tear slides down my cheek, and I smack the traitorous thing away. Vic takes another step forward, but I take another back. “I said don’t come any closer to me. You should havetold me right away.”

“When? Before or after I threw Samantha on the bed? That night, you were disgusted with me. I could see it in your eyes. I knew I fucked up and lost what we could have had.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I never expected you to be a saint, and we never moved past the more-than-friends category, anyway. You were my best friend,” I say as my voice cracks.

“I still am,” he says with sadness in his eyes.

“No, you’re a liar,” I say with a sniffle and point at him. “Rush was my best friend. He would’ve never lied to me. Deceived me. Manipulated me. How could you?”

He shakes his head. “Please, just let me ex—”

“No!” I scream, too heartbroken to hear any more. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s not what you think. I never meant to hurt you. I care about you.”

“Which one is the real you, Rush or Vic?” I say as I look at him as if it’s for the first time.

I dreamed of meeting Rush for years. Imagined what he would look like, what he sounded like.

I finally got my wish, and it fucking hurts.

I give him five seconds to give me the answer. Neither will make me feel better, but I have to know.

He runs his hands through his hair and takes a big breath as if lost in his thoughts and not sure what to say.

I shake my head. “Your time is up. I’m leaving.”

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