Page 40 of Venus
She never bothers replying. I tell myself she’s just busy…or just forgot to press send. I set my phone down and resist the urge to check it every few seconds. I even ignore the phantom vibrations. Just let it sit there.
On the back of my phone case, there’s a holographic sticker of a stegosaurus that she won from the bowling alley. It’s a harmless, stupid thing, but it’s something else that hurts my chest.
Just another reminder of something I can’t have.
I don’t know if she’ll reply, but even if she doesn’t, I need to tell her the truth. Just let her know what’s going on with us from my perspective, and hope to God she’ll meet me halfway. I want to be seen by her. I want her to choose this. Choose us.
I can’t keep carving myself up into little pieces just to keep her more comfortable.
If she’s not even willing to hear me out, then I’ll have to let her go.
Even if it splits me open.
Chapter 21 | Venus
My gas pump clicks off automatically with a loudthunk. I yank the nozzle out and shove it back into its dirty cradle with more force than necessary. I’ve been a mess these past few days. My head is in another galaxy.
I thought seeing Carter again would fix everything and that things would feel normal again, but I was so wrong. He showed up, puppy dog eyes begging me to tell him everything will be okay. Instead of giving that to him, I gave him my body instead.
And I could tell by the end of it that it wasn’t enough for him. The way he looked at me, so defeated but hopeful, made me want to crawl out of my own skin.
I should have seen this coming. Scratch that—I did see this coming. The jokes softened. The silences became more comfortable. The trauma-dumping happened. The way he began to touch me suddenly felt different. He was no longer just undressing me, but aching to understand me.
And I let him. I didn’t stop him. Not even once. Because I stupidly told myself it was harmless. I toldmyself he knew what he got into and he wasn’t really falling.
But he did, and I watched it while doing nothing to stop it.
And as soon as things got complicated, I had the luxury of running away because I don’t feel the way he does. That makes me a selfish coward. I should have just stabbed him in the heart. It might have hurt less than sleeping with him again.
I realize I’ve been staring at the little receipt at the pump a little too long. I tear it free, shove it into my purse, and make my way inside the convenience store. I hope caffeine and a snack will reset my brain.
That’s when I see him.
No, not him him. Not Carterhim. Jacksonhim.
He has a red Gatorade in his hand and his jaw is set in that kind of way where you just know the man is irritated. I happen to meet his eyes and give him a familiar smile out of habit.
“Hey,” I offer.
He doesn’t smile back, and sharply says, “Hey.”
I tilt my head trying to read him. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Fine,” he snaps again, sounding even more irritated.
In between the chips and the Twix, I cross my arms in front of him. “What is your problem?”
He faces me, full-on stares me down like a disappointed father, and sneers. “My problem is that you’re fucking with a guy who doesn’t deserve it.”
I feel like he’s just splashed cold water on my face. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. That shit you’ve been doing to Carter, screwing with a guy who would move the fucking moon and stars for you. That’s my problem.”
A woman sneaks in and steals a bag of pretzels from behind Jackson’s frame. “Don’t paint me out to be some manipulative villain. He knew exactly what this was from the start.”
Jackson’s stare doesn’t waver. “Yeah. He did. But that doesn’t make it okay.”
“I didn’t promise him anything.”
