Page 104 of Riot Reunion
Pax.
He thinkshe can just write me a letter and I’ll go running to him? How many texts did I send to him before I realized he’d gotten rid of his number? How many messages did I leave for him? How many nights have I sobbed into my pillow, hating him for leaving me with this yawning chasm inside my chest? I fold up the letter and stuff it back inside the book, coming apart, coming undone. I should burn both the letter and the book right now. Just take it back into the living room and cast them both into the flames. It isn’t as easy as that, though.
I amfarfrom blameless in this mess.
Changing into my pajamas, I unbraid my hair and re-braid it again, needing to do something with my hands.
I can’t go to him.
What would be the point?
We’ll only end up right back here again in a couple of months. Pax was right—we have been through so much. Most couples never have to face the kind of hardships we’ve already struggled through. We’re a lost cause, for fuck’s sake, and I can’t face the thought of losing him again. I can’t.
I get into bed, my decision made. It kills me not to go to him, but there’s no two ways about it. This is for the best. Closing my eyes, I let my grief claim me for a second, wallowing in it. It isn’t easy letting go of something you’ve so desperately clung to for so long. In time, we’ll be able to move—
My eyes snap open, heart thundering like a piston. What the fuck am Idoing?Who the hell am I trying tokid?
I throw on a jacket and some shoes, and I sprint out of the apartment before I can change my mind.
I try three different parks on google maps before I find the one with a blue café opposite; he could have been a little more fucking specific. At first, I think I’m too late. The park bench sits empty. But no, it’s only two thirty in the morning. Nowhere near sunrise. He wouldn’t have left already, surely? Eventually I spot him, walking toward me from across the park—a dark and shadowy figure that would otherwise look ominous, but I recognize his long, easy strides.
Out of nowhere, my nerves get the better of me.
Is this madness? Holy fuck, I want to run. But the second I see his face, I know I’m not going anywhere. He wears black jeans and a plain black hoody, the hood pulled up over his shaved head. His tattoos peek out from the cuffs of his sleeves, visibly creeping up the column of his neck, so instantly familiar. In the dark, his eyes look so light—the palest, almost silver grey that I’ve ever seen.
My heart squeezes when a sad smile spreads across his handsome face.
“The bench got pretty cold,” he says, fog forming on his breath. “Figured I’d walk a bit. I knew I’d see that red hair of yours if you came.”
“Did you think I would?” I whisper.
Slowly, he shakes his head, though he says, “Maybe. It’s not every day a girl is presented with a chance to kick me in the balls.”
“It was a tough opportunity to pass up,” I agree.
Pax laughs softly. His hands are hidden in the front pocket of his hoody, but he uses them to gesture toward my feet. “I see you came prepared.”
Fuck. I was not thinking when I was rushing to get out of the flat. I’m wearing Elodie’s brand new Doc Martens—the ones Wren gave her for Christmas. Well, now I feel like an asshole. I should have paid more attention to what I was doing.
“Those things have steel toe caps,” Pax says. “Good choice.”
“I didn’t come to kick you in the balls.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“No, I came to tell you that you’re an asshole and that I hate you.”
He’s been expecting this. He doesn’t even look all that surprised by the venom in my voice. He nods, running his tongue over his teeth, casting his gaze down at his feet. “I deserve that,” he says.
“You do. I hate you for breaking my heart. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for disappearing and ignoring all of my texts and calls. I hate you for making my dad think he was right about you. I hate you for making this past month a living hell for me.”
He closes his eyes, his throat working. “I’m so sorry, Chase…”
“Now tell me that you hateme,” I demand.
His eyes open in a flash. “What?”
“Tell me that you hate me for lying to you repeatedly.”
