Page 51 of Never Let Go (Forbidden #1)

Chapter Fifty-One

CALEB

I ’m drowning. Drowning in a sea of emotions I can’t fight my way out of. The pain I’m feeling, indescribable. In all of my thirty-six-years I’ve never had my heart broken—I’ve always been the one to break their hearts but this… this is too much for one person to handle.

It’s been a week since I last saw Lauren. She’s not been to class, having Brad send her the assignments that she needs. I haven’t fought it, knowing she needed her space even though it killed me.

I’ve been like a walking zombie—going to class, teaching, marking papers and then coming home, only to sit until it gets dark, and I take myself to bed. If I even made it that far. Too many a night I’ve fallen asleep with an untouched bottle of beer or glass of whiskey in my hand.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat .

I ache, the tension in my body causing me to seize up with the emotions swirling around—sadness, anger, loneliness, resentment, then back to anger—not being able to think or function properly.

If the guys were to hear me like this they’d tell me to toughen up, to grow a pair. But for someone who’s never felt this… loss, they just wouldn’t understand. Hell, I don’t understand it myself.

All I know is that I’m going to fight for Lauren. She’s mine, and I’ll be damned if I give her up.

I’ve been sitting in my home office, nursing a whiskey for the better part of the day, not moving, just lost, trying to figure out a way to get Lauren back. My gut is still screaming at me that the dean’s got something to do with it.

I push out of my chair, my back and knees protesting, and walk into the kitchen, dumping the whiskey I poured but never drank down the sink. I put my hands on the counter and hang my head.

I need to get out of here.

Making my way through the quiet house, I grab my shit and head out. I look at my Mustang and decide to walk instead. Where to? I have no fucking clue. I just know I need to move.

I wander aimlessly through the streets until I end up on campus. Seeing that the Honey Pot is open I make my way across the path thinking a coffee might be a good idea. I pause at the window and see a familiar face inside. Freezing in place, my heart starts hammering in my chest at the sight.

Lauren.

My body’s screaming at me to run in there, to scoop her up in my arms, and keep her with me where I know she’ll be safe.

But I don’t. I just stand there, peering in, watching her through greedy eyes.

I don’t know why I don’t go in, watching her from the window like some kind of stalker.

Lauren’s talking to Raven and she’s never looked more beautiful, even with the bags under her eyes.

I bring a hand to my chest and rub as the phantom pain of her leaving runs through me. My fingers tingle at the reminder of what her skin feels like against mine, and I exhale harshly.

Lauren doesn’t seem to interact much and Raven appears to pick up on it, placing a hand on Lauren’s arm, a worried expression on her face. I keep watching the interaction, keeping to the shadows, hoping no one will notice and call the cops.

Lauren finally leaves, so I do what I do best—I follow her.