Page 46 of Sunflower Persona (Classic City Romance #2)

Kori

T he world doesn’t stop spinning just because my heart is broken.

The sun still rises, birds still sing, and classes are still on schedule.

Despite the hollow ache in my chest, I get up and drag myself to my lectures.

Because that’s what I have to do. There’s no chance in hell I’m letting myself get behind because some asshole hurt my feelings.

The normalcy of the routine is a welcome distraction from the urge to wallow.

I push any thoughts of my ex to the back of my mind and listen to my professors with more attention than I’ve ever mustered before.

Maybe breakups are the key to academic success.

Thinking about differential equations is way more enjoyable than dwelling on a broken heart.

I stay on campus longer than I need to. My room is lonely, and there are too many reminders of him around for it to be comfortable. It isn’t until the sun dips below the trees that I make my way back to Rutherford Hall. An ominous chill clings to the breeze, teasing the first real taste of fall.

It’s alarming how quickly the seasons can change, and the seasons of life are no different. One day you can be basking in the sun, filled with joy and life, only for dusk to come, and the next to be filled with cold loneliness and despair. One sunset—one blink—and nothing is what it was before.

I’m not who I was before.

I walk into my dorm and freeze at the mountain of a man hunched over in a chair two sizes too small near the maglock entrance to the dormitory, with a bouquet of equally wilted sunflowers clutched in his white-knuckled fist.

As if he can sense my presence, his head snaps up, and his gaze finds mine across the room.

His face is pale, his eyes are shadowed by dark circles, and there’s a deep bruise forming on his cheek.

A sick sort of pleasure fills me knowing he looks as awful as I feel, but that doesn’t explain what he’s doing here.

He has no reason to be here.

Everything was made crystal clear yesterday. He doesn’t get to come here and try to take it back. Fuck that—no, fuck him and his bullshit games. He can’t rip my heart out and then try to shove it back in and pretend like nothing happened.

My heart picks up speed, beating wildly under the intensity of his stare.

His eyes run over my body, and I freeze like prey caught in the sights of a predator.

An unwelcome shiver runs to my core. My body hasn’t gotten on the same program as my head and heart.

A lifetime passes in those brief seconds, and then I move, taking a slow step back as if that will somehow stop him from pouncing.

“Low, wait,” he calls out, springing from the chair as I start to flee.

“You lost the right to call me that,” I snap.

“Kori,” he amends, “please just hear me out.”

It only takes him half a dozen steps before he’s right in front of me, and I curse my traitorous body for relaxing for the first time since I left his place yesterday.

“What do you want, Gage?” I try to keep my voice down despite the venom coating the words.

There are too many eyes on us already, watching this train crash play out in slow motion. I don’t want to draw any more attention.

“You,” he rasps. There’s more emotion in that one word than he normally displays in a full conversation. “I fucked up yesterday, and I’m so sorry. Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life. I freaked out and reacted without thinking. So this is me, begging for your forgiveness.”

He holds out the sad flower arrangement, but I don’t take the withering blooms. I cross my arms over my chest and keep my chin held high.

“Are you actually ready to talk about what caused you to freak out?” I ask.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Come on, let’s take a walk.”

He nods as he follows me out of the lobby and into the quad. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with an audience, but I’m also not about to take him up to my room. My resolve has its limits.

A bitter chill nips at my skin when I step outside, painting it with a layer of goose bumps as a shiver racks through me.

I should have grabbed a hoodie, but that would mean going up to my room, and I don’t trust him not to follow me up and try to force his way back into my good graces.

My grandma always told me never to trust a desperate man, and the desperation is clear on my ex’s face.

“Here.” Gage shrugs off his jacket and hands it to me. I’m not stubborn enough to freeze in order to make a point.

Tears well as the rough canvas envelops me, but I refuse to let them fall. It’s still warm with his body heat and the closest I’ll get to one of his protective embraces ever again. I wrap it around me and breathe him in, basking in the sense of security no matter how false it might be.

I find a bench isolated enough from the others and take a seat, urging him to do the same. He sits beside me and fidgets with the sad bouquet, twisting it in his hands without looking up from the bright petals.

“About yesterday,” he starts, but cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Shit. None of this will make sense without context.”

“So give me context.”

His eyes fall shut as his face contorts. Bits of yellow float to the ground at his feet as he rips and tears at the delicate blooms.

He can’t help but destroy beautiful things.

“You remember how I told you I wasn’t in a good place after my injury, right?” he asks after several long seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

“The thing is, I haven’t ever gotten back to a good place.

There is this…gloom…that’s always lurking in the shadows.

Sometimes I barely notice it, but other times its presence is all-consuming, and yesterday was one of those moments.

The car broke down, and the gloom descended, reminding me that I’m nothing—that I’ll never be worthy of a woman like you. ”

“And this ‘gloom’ made you break up with me?” I can’t keep the incredulous tone from the question.

“You deserve a better man than me—I don’t need any gloom to tell me that.”

My face pinches as I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I take a calming breath, and then another, before I ask, “Why are you here?”

“Because I’m selfish enough to want to keep you, even if I know I’ll never be good enough. I’m here because I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life yesterday, and I’m hoping it’s not too late to fix it.”

The raw pain in his voice is a dagger to my already aching heart, but the frantic desperation does nothing but lend credence to my doubts.

“Gage—”

“Hear me out, Low. Please.” He reaches over and squeezes my thigh as he fully faces me. “I love you, and I’m a selfish bastard who never wants to let you go.”

He loves me? Like hell he does. If he loves me, he wouldn’t have pushed me away.

If he loves me like I love him, he wouldn’t be wielding it like some sort of weapon to cut through my walls and win me back.

Hearing it now feels wrong and stirs the pot of heartbreak, bringing it all to the surface.

I can’t look at him. If I do, the semblance of control I have will snap.

“What happens when the gloom comes again?” The words come out steadier than I feel.

“What do you mean?”

“What happens the next time your insecurities get in the way and you decide you know what’s best for me?”

“That won’t happen—”

“Bullshit. It happened before we got together, and it will keep happening if I take you back.”

He recoils as if I slapped him, pulling his hand away, and utters a defeated “If?”

“Yes, Gage, if. I don’t want to do this again—I won’t. I’m not a yo-yo. You can’t just throw me away and drag me back with the flick of your wrist. My heart isn’t a toy to be played with.”

“You know that isn’t what this is,” he growls, anger growing from the seeds of despair.

“Really? Because that’s what it feels like.”

“Goddamnit, I love you, Kori. Why the fuck would you even think I would do something like that,” he snaps.

Good. His anguish is my kryptonite, but his anger reminds me exactly where we stand. It stokes the flames of my own frustrations.

I meet his stormy gaze for the first time since this conversation began. “Look me in the eye and tell me if this gloom comes back and makes you feel unworthy, you will be able to block it out. Tell me with one hundred percent certainty that you will never spiral and break my heart again.”

He holds my eyes for a second before they drop back to the shredded petals. His shoulders slump with a deep sigh, and his head hangs as the fight abandons him.

“That’s what I thought. I love you, Gage, but I can’t love you enough for the both of us.”

“Kor—”

“I’m sorry. I really am. But I won’t do this. I really hope you make peace with yourself.”

“So that’s it?” he asks.

“That’s it.”

Devastation flashes in his eyes before he slams them closed. His jaw ticks and his throat bobs as he fights to regain control over his emotions. After several agonizing seconds, he takes a breath and slips on his stoic mask.

“All right.” He stands, brushing away the yellow shreds, and I mirror the motion.

For a heartbeat, we stand there on the edge of the darkened field, our eyes locked together while the air buzzes with electricity between us, and I wish with every fiber of my being that things could be different.

He breaks the moment first, taking a deep breath, then turning to walk away. I stop him before he can go too far.

“Wait, your jacket,” I call out as I pull off the heavy layer.

His knuckles blanch as they grip the dark canvas.

“Take care of yourself,” he commands.

Without thinking, I spring to the tips of my toes and press my lips against his in one last kiss.

It’s meant to be a quick goodbye, but his free hand cups the side of my face, and he pours every last bit of love into the way his lips dance with mine.

That kiss captures all the air from my lungs—no, it pulls my very soul from me—leaving me empty and hollow.

This time, he doesn’t linger. With a final breath and nod, he turns and walks out of my life for good.