Page 15 of Bitter Lies

“You what?” he asks angrily, pushing his hair back from his head.

When I don’t answer, he sighs. “Halsey…”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I hate you. I fucking hate you,” I sob, my throat thick with tears.

His eyes shutter, forming pools of fucking nothing. “I hate you, too.”

With a wrenching feeling in my chest, I drop my hand to my side and swallow past the agony, before pulling my lips into an approximation of a smile.

With a fierce scowl, he steps forward, but I turn away, walking toward the front of the house, only to stop at the last minute and say over my shoulder, “I didn’t try to kill myself. I never wanted to die. I just couldn’t see myself moving past it.”

“Past what?” he asks softly.

“What that fucker did to me.” The words are bitter on my tongue and I swallow, but the acrid taste remains.

“So, you really wouldn’t get out of bed because Jason fucking Macklemore dumped you?” he asks with disbelief.

Glancing over my shoulder, my voice quivers as I say, “No, Griffin, because he broke me.”

Griffin flinches, his eyes blazing into mine, but I turn and walk away because I know what’s coming next and I hardly need another lesson on why it’s foolish to care about Griffin Hathaway.

∞∞∞

Sometime later, I rouse to the sound of voices, followed by the harsh blare of music and more fucking people. I assume Griff is celebrating.

I spent the better part of the last few hours writhing in misery, stuck in a hole so deep, I struggled to breathe past the panic stretching my skin. The thing is, no matter how I pretend, I’m still one step away from the madness I feel lurking below the surface.

I can’t escape my shame, and for Griffin, the one person who knew me best, who understood me when no one else could, it’s like a kick in the face to know he thinks so badly of me. Where did his love go?

The jerk single-handedly shared my weakness not only with an entire sorority but also the one person who doesn’t deserve my pain, and even though I spoke the words first, confirming he hates me tore open a cavern in my chest I can’t soothe.

Because the weakness in me wants so badly for him to come to his senses and come back. Why? I don’t know.

Maybe because my world orbited around his, and when he spun away, I was left in the dark, missing the pieces of me he took with him.

Now, unbelievably, he’s partying, utterly unaffected by our fight.

Pulling my aching body from the bed, where I cried myself into a stupor, I check my reflection, my blue eyes dour before opening the door. I look tired, but at least the terror and tears from before are gone.

The house is packed, with people everywhere, including a line outside the damn bathroom—my bathroom.

Why couldn’t the freak let me have a room with my own?

With a sigh, I glance down the hall before marching into Griffin’s room and shutting myself in the bathroom to do my business, all the while muttering profanities. The jerk is seriously messed in the head, which unfortunately points to my own fucked-up neuroses because I’ve been in love with him for years.

Washing my hands wearily, I move to the door on sluggish limbs because it’s been a long fucking week, and I’m already strung out and tired. Maybe staying in the fucking hospital would have been the better bet.

“Ohh, Griff,” a high-pitched voice giggles.

Stuttering to a stop, I lean my head against the wood, cringing when I hear another giggle. Shit.

Please tell me he isn’t about to get it on while I’m trapped in his bathroom.

Unable to resist, I crack the door open and peek into the room, acknowledging I must be in hell when I spy Griff with some chick who is not Miranda, although all I can see is the back of her damn head.

He’s leaning against the door as she sucks him off, and it’s simultaneously hot and fucking grotesque. His eyes are closed, his mouth open as he holds her hair in his hand and bucks into her mouth.

Sucking in a breath, I squirm, my core throbbing at the sight of his need—fuck, but this is insane, and I can’t turn away as he groans and pulls her head back, spraying her face. Simultaneously, he opens his eyes and looks right at me through a half-lidded stare with his damn diabolical smirk.

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