Page 79 of The Likelihood Of You

“Just stop for a second. This is me, Flo. You know, I know that you know that I’d never think about treating you like that. Ever. We talked about this.” he whispered, like he was talking to my heart.

But it was too far down in its bunker to hear the words it needed to hear.

“I know, I just…please just give me five minutes to get my head straight.” I rushed, getting some distance between us and heading through the living room.

“Flo, what do you mean? You can trust me. You know you can.” I didn’t answer him. I was too far gone now to talk to him without crumbling. I didn’t want space; I just needed it.

“Talk to me, baby.” He continued, Bagel’s distant barks getting lost in the thumping of my ears, while I tied the laces of my high tops. “Flo.” He pushed, while I zipped up my coat. “Why don’t you trust me?”

I snapped, and I regretted every stupid word before it even slipped past my quivering lips.

“Because it’s hard! Okay! I thought I was doing okay, but I’m not. And for someone who told me that they didn’t trust me at first, that you thought I was trying to play you like she did, I think you should understand where I’m coming from.” My eyes explored every ounce of pain that was swimming in his eyes, and I ached at how glassy my words had made them. “I’m sorry, but these things take time, and I didn’t realise how much his lies were still holding me captive. I thought I’d worked through them, but apparently not.”

His head dipped, and I watched as the faint glisten from his tears caught the light, before his broken eyes found their way back to mine. “So what you’re saying is that you still don’t trust me, aftereverything?” I didn’t have the energy to answer him. “You’re saying that I’m just like him, that I’m dragging you along so I can use all this against you one day? You really think that’s what I’m fucking here for?” His tone got louder with every syllable that fell past his tongue, and his eyes darkened.

It was the first time I’d ever hated anything about him, probably because my favourite colour was nowhere to be seen in them anymore.

“How do I know you’re not like Darcie? Huh? Maybe this is all one big play you’ve put on for me.”

I barely shook my head. “You don’t mean that.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know, when you aren’t even sure that you trust me yet?”

“You know I’d never—”

“Neither would I!” My legs faltered as I took a few steps back, like his voice had enough anger and power to knock me off my feet. “If you want to think I’m like that, then fine. I can live happily knowing I’d never trap you like he did.” He spun around on his heels. “I just wish you could see that.”

He disappeared into the bedroom, the soft slam of the door being enough for me to release the tears I’d held in until he couldn’t see them. Never did I think things would escalate like that, and my whole body ached and pleaded for me to run after him and apologise, tell him it was a moment of madness and that I’ve always known he wasn’t capable of the things I’d panicked over. But I couldn’t.

Without looking back, I grabbed the knob on the front door and twisted it open, making a beeline for the elevator and ignoring the pull of that invisible string trying to take me back to him.

That voice had convinced me that he was probably already finding the scissors to untie us for good.

Chapter twenty-nine

Jacob

Ilet my eyes get lost in the blizzard, tracking every balled-up snowflake as it bashed off the window, whilst I watched the city turn white in minutes. Which reminded me that I’d been a complete moron for letting Florence walk out there while she was still sick and could barely breathe.

I’d also been an idiot to have a go at her the way I did.

Florence had every right to still feel the way she did. Of course she did. She’d been living on a diet of lies for her entire relationship with that asshole, it’s no wonder that she’s questioning whether things can truly be this good for her now.

Like she said, I thought she was like Darcie, too, at one point. Not for long, but the thought still flickered across my mind before I knew the girl beneath the tempting smile.

I still couldn’t believe that I was with a woman who couldn’t care less about my status, my fame, and the only part of that life she really got excited about was running lines with me, purely so she could relive her college drama days, whatever that meant. It took me a while to really trust those feelings, and make it clear to my heart that she wasn’t going to destroy it like the last owner did.

But all I heard at that moment was that she still didn’t trust me, and my mind ran with it.

Now that I’d had approximately a minute to calm down and come to my senses, and realising I truly was an asshole for storming off and letting her leave with only a thin sweater to protect from catching her second death, I headed to my walk-in closet to go after her. I slipped on the first pair of pants my eyes landed on and grabbed a grey hoodie from one of the shelves, before struggling into some socks and slipping on my sneakers.

I passed Bagel as I speeded to the living room, who was still buzzing around after the screaming match, when my phone dinged in my hand—and dinged again.

Flo’s name lit up in my head in big, white Broadway lights, and I prayed that the text was from her, saying she was in the elevator and on her way back up. But I flipped it round and saw that all three messages were from Charlie. I opened the chat and saw that he’d sent me two links, and one paragraph that I’d probably never read, which didn’t surprise me, because every message he’s sent me after the world found out about me and Florence has been a link to something negative that was written about us.

Which translates to me as something insignificant that’s not worth my time.

The things he finds are so obscure I don’t even know how he finds them. It started with a tweet saying that Darcie and I were a much better-looking couple than me and Florence are. After that, it’s been the odd screenshot of a comment from a cute picture I’d posted of the two of us, a few more barely liked tweets and anything else he can find from the extremely sparse selection.

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