Page 83 of The Likelihood Of You

“Are you crazy?” Her God awful high pitched, yet raspy voice shrieked. I felt her move behind me, and before I knew it, she was barging past me, making it all the way to the door, “My God, you can’t blame a girl for—”

“Get the fuck out!” Jacob screamed without taking his eyes off me, making the hairs on my arm turn pin straight and my spine rattle.

He turned his body slightly, not enough to face her, but enough that she staggered backwards into the hallway, before regaining some common sense and leaving. I hoped that would be the last time I saw that face again, and I had a feeling it would be.

I tried to compose myself as I walked over to him, but it seemed like every emotion I could possibly feel was fighting for that centre-stage spotlight. My face was so damp, my cheeks were burning up, and that hurt I’d sensed before had now become a tight knot in the pit of my stomach.

My feet were now in front of him, and soon enough, his hands were on my shoulders, still shaking, but now I could at least appreciate the warmth that came from them.

“Florence, baby, please look at me. Please.” His voice sounded as broken as I felt. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and not let go until I knew he was okay.

My arms tingled with the urge to do just that, but I couldn’t. All I could do was try and hold back my tears as I asked myself why this was happening to me again.

What had I done to deserve this? Twice.

Sure, this was nothing like last time; this time, I had my own place to go to, to scream and cry all the hurt away. This time, I didn’t have to board a flight that I promised myself I wouldn’t shed a tear on. This time, relief didn't coat my heart.

Because this wasn't some out-of-touch rich boy who'd broken my heart. It was Jacob.

I don’t know when it happened, but his forehead was now resting on mine, and his arms were cradling me. I let myself enjoy that last little bit of closeness with him, just for a few seconds, before I knew I had to go. I tried to move from under him, but I could tell he was about to try his hardest not to let me leave.

“Jacob, let me go,” I whispered, my voice all delicate and weak.

“No, no, Florence, don’t go.”

“I have to.” I sobbed.

“No, you don’t.” He kissed me quickly, but I pulled back, freeing myself from him. “Let me explain.”

“You don’t need to, Jacob. You explaining how you ended up kissing her isn’t going to change how I feel about it. Not now. Not a week from now. It won’t change how much my heart is breaking again.” I cried. “I need to go. Please let me go.” I said, finally allowing my eyes to find his.

Oh god, I wished I hadn’t.

I’d always loved the colour of his eyes- they were what spelled me all those months ago- but I didn’t like how they shined behind the veil of tears that blocked them. He stood there; his spine was shrunken, and his face was red and blotchy. He was a completely different man than I’d ever seen himbe.

My head knew this wasn’t his fault. It knew more than anything he wasn’t to blame for this. My heart, on the other hand, couldn’t see that. It was too busy reminding me of that kiss. How his face was moulded so well with hers, how he was lightly holding her; how it reminded me of Sydney and Hugo.

I couldn’t stay here any longer.

“If you love me, please let me go. I can’t…I can’t stay. You know I can’t.”

A sob so soul-crushing left his lips, and I felt my heart pulling me closer to him.

But he knew. He knew I couldn’t be here. This moment was something I’d confessed to him by the lookout, not so long ago, and now, we were living in it. After a few seconds, I felt his hands leave my back. My instinct was to place them back there, but I didn’t.

He slowly backed away from me, allowing me to see his face and how haunted it looked. I looked away. He opened the door for me, and I somehow staggered towards it. But as I passed him, his hand found mine, and he whispered, “I love you.”

I felt my breath falter as I looked up into those teary brown eyes. Twin tears raced down his cheeks, catching on the craters where his dimples lay low. I wished more than anything that he’d smile so I could see them. “Jacob…”

“I know.”

I loved him too. I wanted to scream those three words at him. I wanted to whisper them like I had earlier. I wanted to forget this whole fucking morning had happened. I wanted to live with him, bake with him, and make love to him. I wanted my new life back. I wanted him back. I wanted everything I knew I wasn’t getting!

I left him without saying another word.

The sound of my front door closing was the signal I needed for the most inhuman and animal-like cries and screams and wails to escape me and bounce off every wall. My tears were endless, a never-ending sequence of waves crashing against my cheeks, each droplet holding a memory of him. Of us.

I felt so lost. So naive. So confused about how, in the space of a morning, it was like these last few months had never happened. Like everything that had happened was a dream from my first night in New York. I was still that scared girl who’d just had her heart broken for the first time, dreaming about what her life was going to look like now. She was going to meet a boy, who knew how to love her properly, who would never hurt her, and give her the perfect life.

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