Page 83 of Break Point
“I have people waiting for me downstairs,” he offers, hooking a thumb toward the door like it’s the best he can do. “But we can?—”
“I understand,” I cut in. I don’t. “I’ll see you later for dinner.”
Enough. I’m done talking about this.
The door opens and shuts in the distance as I head toward mybathroom. When I glance over my shoulder, Dad is gone, but Henry is hot on my heels.
“Bells!”
I ignore him and walk straight into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, pretending that fixes everything. In the mirror, I catch Henry’s reflection. He leans against the doorframe, and for once, he’s not hiding how worried he is.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t,” I reply, yanking a towel from the rack. I dry my face roughly and toss the towel onto the marble countertop. Pressing my palms against the cold stone, I let my head hang as I try to settle myself.
Henry steps behind me and wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head. For a moment, I let myself sink into his hold. He always knows how to steady me. But the second my nagging thoughts catch up, I wrench myself free.
Not only am I heartbroken that Mom isn’t coming—and why—but I’m pissed about Henry wanting to leave for Massachusetts. On top of that, I’m beyond annoyed that Evan King is probably seconds away from firing off texts to Henry to “catch up” and “meet up” at the party tomorrow.
And the worst part? I hate feeling this way.
I can’t help but wonder how much Henry is keeping from me. What his life in Chicago really looked like. How he got that scar on his brow. Anything related to his parents. I tell him everything. And in return? I get virtuallynothing.At least nothing deep or too personal.
Seriously, I don’t need this drama right now. Or ever.
Instead of getting into an exhausting argument with Henry, I draw a bath. As the water fills the tub, I step out of the bathroom and grab a fresh set of pajamas from the closet. It’s barely 1:00 p.m., but I plan to turn in for the rest of the day.
Seething, I head back to the bathroom, and Henry’s still there, studying me.
“Henry, could you …?”Leave.
I clear my throat and gesture toward the steaming tub and wait for him to take the hint.
“Why do you keep shutting me out?” His voice is quiet but firm. “I know you’ll feel better if we talk things through.”
“Excuse me?” I say over my shoulder, appalled, as I set my pajamas on the wooden bench. “I shutyouout?”
He can’t be serious …
“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’s not the one who’s mastered the art of keeping me at arm’s length. “You push me away whenever you’re upset, and I hate seeing you like this when I know I can make you feel better.”
He’s not wrong. He always manages to make me feel better. But this time, he’s part of the reason I’m upset. I need space. And he needs to leave.
“You’re the one person I’ve opened up to the most in my entire life, Henry. Even more than Gemma. So please don’t throw that at me when you’re the one applying to colleges in Massachusetts behind my back. When I’ve asked you a million times about your plans, and you keep lying to me.”
“Bells, I’m not going anywhere,” he groans, irritation laced in his voice as he takes a few careful steps toward me. “I’ve told you plenty of times that I plan to stay in New York. That’s where I belong.”
There’s nowhere left for me to go. Henry has me cornered in the bathroom, blocking my only exit.
I turn to check the bathtub’s water level and it’s still less than half full. I let it be.
“Then why did you apply to MIT?” I shove his chest, trying to release some of the pent-up anger and frustration clawing at me. It does nothing to move him. “And what if you’re accepted?” I shove his chest again, but he catches my wrists and settles them.
“I had the application materials ready when I moved back to New York. Your father insisted on MIT since that was the Plan B we discussed after I stopped pursuing a tennis career. This was before Elliot dropped you and your dad suggested I become your coach.”
So they’ve been in touch way before Dad needed him to coach me?
Henry’s suddenly closer, and I have no idea when it happened.
