Page 118 of Bloom

How am I supposed to do that? Just sitting here, doing nothing, is killing me. The millions of questions running rampant in my brain areexcruciating. I want to talk to him, to let him explain like he begged to. But almost as much, I don’t. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to give the chance to wear me down, to make me believe whatever he tells me, because I know I will.

One question, though, I can get the answer to now. “What did you mean earlier? What you said to Hunter?”

I told you to be careful with her. The words didn't register at the time, lost in a muddled mess of too many thoughts and goings-on, but I remember now, and it’s clear I missed something. That a conversation occurred; one I was never supposed to know about, if the choked, faux-confused noise Lux makes is anything to go by. “Huh?”

I pull away just enough to peer down at her with narrowed eyes. “Alexandra.”

She wrinkles her nose, sighing. “I just had a little talk with him.”

Vague—and ominous. “What did you say?”

“A lot.”

I cringe.

“But the basic gist of it was that you deserved more than what he was giving you.”

Shady, darty eyes suggest the ‘basic gist’ barely skims the surface of what she actually said, but I’m too tired—and maybea little too scared—to dig for anything more. “Thank you,” I say instead. “You didn’t have to do that.”

An eye roll and a quiet snort precede an inarguable, “Yes, I did,” before her expression shifts, her tone cautious and sincere. “I know it didn’t end great, but I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there. Doing what you wanted. Being all brave and shit.”

“I was proud of myself too.” For a minute there, I really was. “You know, until I realized I was an accomplice to adultery.”

As Lux winces through a snicker, I mull over her words a little more. My traitorous brain gets caught up on one in particular—end. “You think it’s ended?”

“Think that’s up to you and my squatter.”

She says it is jest, but I still start to get up, start to say I’ll tell him to leave, but a firm hand on my knee keeps me down. “Don’t bother. I already tried. Jackson tried. Eliza super nonchalantly mentioned the family of rattlesnakes that live beneath the porch.”

I laugh at the well-meaning lie, even if the youngest Jackson sibling being privy to this situation kind of makes me want to die.

“Take a bath,” Lux repeats firmly. “Eat. Sleep. Figure it out tomorrow. He’ll still be there.”

“You think?”

She squeezes my knee. “I know.”

Squinting through the mesh screen door, I hate myself.

I’m weak. Spineless. Completely devoid of any self-control. And so very pathetic as I shoulder the door open and drop downonto the porch steps next to the man wearing a dent in them. “You gonna sit out here all night?”

It’s a weak attempt at a joke—I don’t expect an utterly serious response. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Hunter,” I sigh, scrubbing at my tired eyes. Tired, yet incapable of closing for longer than thirty seconds before flying open again, every attempt to fall asleep futile as the events of today play on a never-ending loop in my head. “Go home.”

“I can’t.” The lightest touch at the base of my neck twists my head sideways, urging my gaze to meet one bleeding sincerity. “I’m so sorry, Caroline.”

Instinct has me opening my mouth to dismiss his apology, to insist it’s fine, but I promptly snap it shut. It’s not fine. Misleading me, making me look and feel like a fool… It’s not okay. Even if Hunter looks likethat; wrecked. Like he’s been raking his hands through his hair for hours on end, scratching at his beard until the skin beneath turns red, rubbing his eyes to the point of being bloodshot. He’s the picture of remorse, but I’ve already let myself down by coming out here. I can’t give in so easily too.

Tilting my face towards the sky, I stare steadfastly at the twinkling stars. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to.”

Such a quick, simple answer, but nowhere near good enough. “Why not?”

“I was fuckin’ embarrassed, Line.”

I picture flushed cheeks, intense eyes, a downturned mouth.

---