Page 205 of What We Break
"What a jerk," Kerry says, shaking her head.
"No," I say. "He's not just a jerk. He's... he's the other half of Reid's heart. And there's no room for me in there."
"Laine..." Jamila reaches for me, but I'm already standing up.
"I have to go," I say. "I have to make a call."
"Laine, don't do anything rash," Jamila says.
"It's not rash," I tell her, and for the first time in a week, my mind feels clear. Sad, but clear. "It's the only thing left to do."
I walk out of the bar, into the cool night air. I don't go to my car. I walk down the block to a quiet spot under a streetlight.
I pull out my phone. I dial Reid.
It rings once. Twice.
"Hey, beautiful," Reid answers, his voice warm and hopeful. "Everything okay?"
I close my eyes. I can hear the smile in his voice. I'm about to break his heart. But if I don't do it now, Blake is right. We'll just drag this out until we all shatter.
"Reid," I say, my voice shaking. "We need to talk."
41
BLAKE
Iwatch her walk away.
I don't turn around. I watch her reflection in the mirror behind the bar—the set of her shoulders, the way she holds her head high even though I just decimated her. She walks back to her friends, says something short, and then heads for the door.
She doesn't look back.
Good.
The air in my lungs feels thin, like I’m at high altitude. I grip the whiskey glass, staring at my knuckles. They're white. Trembling.
Everyone leaves.
I actually said that to her. I looked the woman I love in the eye and told her she was temporary. I told her the only thing holding Reid together was me, when the truth is I'm the rot in the foundation.
"Another?" the bartender asks, eyeing my empty glass.
"No."
I throw a twenty on the bar and stand up. My legs feel heavy, like I'm wading through concrete. I can feel eyes on me. Her friends in the booth. The one in the flannel shirt looks like she wants to drag me into the alley and beat me to death.
I wish she would. It would be cleaner than this.
I push through the door into the cool night air and suck in a breath that tastes like exhaust and rain. The noise of the bar cuts off behind me. Just the ringing in my ears.
I walk to my truck, boots crunching on gravel. Climb in. Shut the door.
Silence.
I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. Doesn't matter. All I can see is her face. The confusion when I told her I tried to leave. The way her mouth opened before the words caught up, like her brain was still trying to sort what I'd just handed her.
Are you in love with him?
