Page 215 of Things We Hide from the Light
“Fuck.”
FORTY-FOUR
EYE WATER
Lina
Ipushed through the exterior door and stepped out into the rainy night Main Street had to offer. Raindrops pelted my head, soaking my shirt. But I didn’t care. I was angry and hurt and sad and confused. Also hungry. Was this why women in movies always ate ice cream out of the carton after getting their hearts broken?
Feeling the cold stab of each drop was better than feeling the pieces of my stupid heart splinter apart.
This.Thiswas what I got for being vulnerable. I put myself out there. I opened up. And I got punched in the goddamn heart. Which wasexactlywhat I’d predicted. I blamed Naomi. Smug soon-to-be-married women were not to be trusted. Neither were sexy, broody next-door neighbors with great asses and heroic scars.
I knew this. Yet here I was, taking a stroll in the icy rain aftermaking fucking cornbread.
Nash was hurting, and that devastated me in a way I was unprepared to handle. But I couldn’t fix him. I couldn’t open up those wounds of his and force them to heal.
I could only go for a stupid walk in the stupid rain so my stupid eye water could mix with the stupid sky water.
A shuddering sob ripped its way out of my throat.
If he didn’t change his mind, if he couldn’t venture out of his black-and-white thinking and meet me in the gray, I would lose him forever. The thought of that reality was terrifying. And stupid. We barely knew each other, and I was crying in the damn rain over a man who had kicked me out of his apartment.
Or did we know each other better than anyone?a nagging inner voice interjected.
“Ihatehaving feelings,” I muttered to the empty, soggy street.
Everyone else was at home or inside, staying warm, being happy, eating hot food. And once again, I was left on the outside.
I started to walk, crossing my arms over my chest and hunching my shoulders against the cold. I’d barely made it past the warm glow of Whiskey Clipper’s storefront when I heard the door to the apartments burst open.
“Angelina.”
Oh no. No thank you. Nope. I was not letting the man who brought me to literal tears see me in those tears. I was too vulnerable right now. I wouldn’t survive.
Swiping at my wet face with my sleeves, I broke into a run.
He wouldn’t follow me. The man had just tried to dump me. It wasn’t like he was going to chase—
Fast footsteps sounded behind me.
I poured on the speed, my feet slapping at the water on the sidewalk, and thanked my lucky stars that it was a dark, miserable night, which meant there was no one else to witness my tearful humiliation.
He was tired and cold and spiraling. Any second now, he’d decide I wasn’t worth chasing after.
My heart pounded in my chest as my arms pumped harder. I was faster than he was. I could outlast him, outdistance him. If I could just make it to the corner, I wouldn’t have to witness him giving up on me. On us.
A hand closed in the material of my shirt, jerking me backward. Then strong arms wrapped around me hard, banding me to him.
“Stop,” Nash panted in my ear as he pulled me against him. He burrowed his face in the back of my neck. “Just stop.”
A new panic set in. “Let go of me!”
“I tried. I can’t.”
I went still in his arms even as more tears coursed down my cheeks. “I’m…confused.”
“I’m an idiot. An asshole. An idiot asshole who doesn’t deserve you, Angel.”
