Page 138 of The Other Side

Defeat.

“I already ended things with him, Brant,” I offer softly. My throat rolls, my eyes scanning his stiff expression. “It’s been over.”

His beautiful eyes—still averted from me—blink through the gloss thickening there. My heart splits as time slows down, and it’s like a tool of torture.

I just have to sit and watch the scene before me unfold.

His nose crinkles through a quick inhale, his thumb absently swiping it. He hugs his chest with both arms now when he asks, “When are you going?”

I pause, inhaling a breath. “Today.”

My chin dips, and I tuck my hair behind my ears. His fears aren’t off base. In fact, he’s right on target. Not about me, but about Jesse.

Jesse’s been apologizing to me through scattered voicemails, pleading with me to come home. I wound up texting him back and forth for a bit, setting up a time for me to collect the rest of my belongings. But he seems determined despite that little fact.

“Brant, I need to do this in person.”

The legs of his chair grate against the wood floor. He’s already popping from his seat to walk his coffee to the sink.

My lungs inflate with anger as I stand to stroll toward him. “What is your problem?”

Brant spins, curling his palms around the counter edge behind him. His chest ticks through tight breaths, his narrowed gaze cooling. “I don’t trust you, Callie,” he answers.

My brows crinkle in disarray, my surprised stare bouncing between his eyes.

He wags his head, body rigid when his jaw cements in place. “I never gave a shit about hurting your feelings,” he responds. “I tell you how I feel, and you tell me how you feel. That’s the way it’s always worked and will continue to work.”

“No,” I breathe, wincing my rebuttal. “Don’t make this about some childhood ritual we always had. You’re defaming my character. Questioning my loyalt⁠—”

“I was right.”

His beaten eyes bore into mine. His Adam’s apple nudges a lump as he recounts something only he can see.

“What?” I ask.

“That day under the pine trees. I called it,” he affirms, his brow quirking. “You remember that? Us screaming hysterically at the top of our lungs?”

Our fight rushes into my mind like a waterfall. The cold water leaks into my heart, chilling the organ until it’s brittle.

Destined to crack.

“You’re just waiting for the day you leave here and leave all of this behind! Including me!” Brant leaves a mere inch between us, towering over me as he hammers his point home through a low growl. “You’re just waiting to go to New York, find some guy with money, just so you’ll never have to be afraid of living this life all over again.”

My breaths slip through clenched teeth. “Now, I hate you. Ugh!” I punch both hands down, stomping my sneaker against the ground. “I hate you for saying this and makin’ me feel the way I do right now!”

“As if you’re not breakin’ my heart, Callie?!” he yells, darting a finger at me. “I know you! I fucking know you and what you’re gonna pull over there!”

His cheeks flush red, anger seething from every pore of his body as he filters his heart. Another tear scrolls down his face, and I sob maniacally as he unravels in front of me.

The boy who was always my crutch.

The boy who always made sure he was sturdy enough for the both of us.

The same boy whose structure is now destroyed.

All because of me.

He carried too much weight these past ten years.