Page 106 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“You don’t have to.”
I stuff my feet into my sneakers. “Nice try, Low.”
We walk hand in hand out to the parking lot, and I kiss her before she slips in her car. She rolls her window down and smiles, “I love you.”
“Forever?” I ask, sliding my hands into my pockets.
“Forever,” she promises.
“I love you,” I reply and lean in to kiss her one last time.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I watch her back out and don’t head back to my room until her taillights have disappeared from my view.
CHAPTER 38
HARLOW
Iwake up to find the other side of the bed empty. I’m not surprised after my confession last night. Part of me wants to shoutit was just a kiss, it meant nothing, but the other part of me knows it would be a lie. It did mean something, I just don’t know what yet.
Easing the bedroom door open, I head across the hall to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. The apartment feels empty, and I try not to dwell on that fact. I fucked up and I’m honestly surprised he even stayed the night. I wouldn’t have blamed him for leaving.
Tucking my hair behind my ears, I sigh at my reflection. My face is puffy from crying, and my eyes are still tinged red. I’m a mess.
Splashing my face with cold water, I try my best to pull myself together. Whatever today holds, I can’t allow myself to wallow.
Opening the bathroom door, I listen to see if maybe I was imagining the emptiness, but it’s still silent. I shake my head and dam back new tears that threaten to fall. Jerking the dresser drawers open, I yank out a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt. I don’t feel like dressing up, not that I really do anyway.
In the kitchen, I turn on the coffee maker and stare in confusion when it doesn’t brew.
It takes me a minute, but then I realize while Jameson normally takes care of having the coffee ready to go in the morning, he didn’t this time.
I’m not mad. Frankly, I have no right to be. But it feels like a slap to the face, a reminder of how good he is to me, and in his hurt, he forgot about this simple task. I hate that I caused him this pain. I hate even more that I’mconfused. I shouldn’t be. I should have never kissed Spencer, but I did, and I … I’m not so sure I would take it back if I could, which leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.
There are dishes left in the sink, another thing that isn’t normal, and I wash them and put them away, so I won’t have to look at the reminder.
I dread the fact that Monroe won’t be home until tomorrow, but this is what I deserve, to wallow in my own pity and self-loathing.
I have stuff I need to work on for school, so I grab my laptop and settle on the couch, turning the TV on for background noise. I nearly jump out of my skin almost thirty minutes later when the door to my apartment opens.
Turning, I find Jameson standing in the doorway. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are red like mine but also boast dark circles beneath them. My stomach drops with the realization that he hasn’t slept at all. His clothes are unusually rumpled, too.
“Hi,” I say softly, sliding my laptop off my crossed legs and onto the coffee table. “You … you’re back.”
“I am.” The words are a raspy croak. He closes the door and slides his hands in the pockets of his pants, crossing the small space until he’s in front of me. He slides my laptop further down and takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me.
Seeing how broken he is physically pains me.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” he says with a sigh. “I know you are, and I accept your apology. But I’m hurt, Harlow. So fucking hurt. Especially since you didn’t tell me right away.”
I press my lips together and nod.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asks, his voice cracking.
“I was ashamed,” I admit. “Embarrassed. Confused. My head wasn’t exactly clear.”
He nods, looking away from me with his eyes fixed on the wall.
