Page 113 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Kissingher.

He’s kissing her.

I gasp, my mouth falls open, but no sound is emitted.

The feeling comes back. The feeling I remembered but didn’t know when or how I knew it. The feeling is here, but now it’s paired with the image, a memory, of him and me sitting in his truck. I remember asking him,“Where?”I remember feeling like I was dying when he told me.

Our cove.

It feels like the sky is falling. It feels like the walls are closing in. It feels like having your heart ripped out of your chest, then trampled over a thousand times.

I step back, hiding around the corner so that she can’t see me.

Oh god.

I remember. I remember my trip to see my mom. I remember asking if I could call him, and he told me he was busy. I slam a hand over my mouth to silence a sob.

There’s yelling in the hall, and I want to vomit. I want to disappear. I want the wall I’m leaning against to absorb me. Ceasing to exist feels like an ideal solution.

He did mean it, that he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me above all else.Not me. Never me.

I watch Jess and her husband walk down the hall, and I stand, trembling, as he turns the corner to face me.

I have to put a hand on my stomach to keep from throwing up.

“Scorched by the sun,” I whisper, partly to him. Partly to the universe because I remember that, too.

He’ll burn you,Blanks warned me. And here I am, “Scorched by the sun,” I say it out loud again.

He stands looking at me like he’s fighting the urge to throw up, too.

I was wrong. So wrong. About all of it. About him being a good man. About him being deserving.

“I feel sorry for you,” I tell him in a shaky whisper. “She owns you. Your life isn’t even your own, and for that, Ipityyou.” Each syllable is laced with disdain.

I hate him.

“What a sad existence to live,” I tell him as my eyes roam over him, seeing him for who he truly is for the first time. I turn, preparing to leave, giving him my back, but fuck.Fuck!I’m sosoangry, and he…he’s said nothing.

I turn around to ask, “Why?Why couldn’t you just let me leave yesterday?” My chin trembles, and I blink hard to clear the tears out of my vision.

“I would have walked away from you. A clean break. But you wanted…” I struggle for air. “You wanted to hurt me.” The realization is soul-crushing. “Why would you be so cruel?” I stand before him, dismayed by his lack of response, at his unchanging expression.

“Say something!” I shout at him.

“I told you I’m not a good man.” Like him warning me absolves him.

“You’re right. I apologize for not believing you.”Christ, Emma.I’m still saying sorry to him. “I’m sorry to have fallen in love with a monster like you.”

When I turn away from him a second time, it’s for good. I walk up the stairs into the lobby, and the whole time, I’m hoping he’ll follow me. I’m hoping he’ll stop me.

But he doesn’t.

The warm June air hits me when I push open the large door. The air isn’t refreshing like it is at home. It’s pungent and heavy, and I stumble before folding in on myself and emptying my stomach onto the curb. I would be embarrassed if I could be.

While opening my clutch, I gasp, trying to catch my breath. I’m hoping to find a receipt, a small piece of paper, or anything to wipe my mouth, but instead, my shaking fingers land on a business card. Thick in weight with a raised emblem.

Caleb.