Page 7 of The Wreckage Of Us (US #2)

Ace

I couldn’t feel my legs anymore.

I stumbled out of Brittany’s building, the door slamming behind me like the final nail in my coffin.

The cold air slapped my face, but I barely registered it.

My chest was tight, like a steel band was crushing my ribs.

I gasped, dragging in shaky breaths, but the pain didn’t ease.

My heart wasn’t just broken—it was obliterated, shattered beyond repair.

How had it come to this?

I had waited five years. Five agonizing years to stand in front of her, to beg, to explain.

And when I finally did, when I finally touched her skin again, calmed her from that episode—when I felt her trust trembling back to life, even just for a second—it all came crashing down because of one stupid phone call.

Sierra’s name flashing on my phone. Brittany’s eyes flicking to the screen. The confusion, then the suspicion, then the devastation in her face when she heard the voice on speaker.

I can still hear Sierra’s voice. I can still see Brittany’s face twisting, pale lips trembling as if the ground had split beneath her feet.

She didn’t know. She never knew.

I tried to explain, but it was too late. She shut down. That light I was clinging to in her dim eyes—gone. Slapped out.

Now I was here, stumbling down a street I didn’t even recognize, hands shoved in my hair, fingers clutching at the roots so hard my scalp burned. I didn’t care if people were staring. I didn’t care if I looked insane.

Because I was.

I was insane for her.

I dropped to my knees on the sidewalk, right there in the middle of town. I let out a sound I didn’t recognize, half a laugh, half a sob, crumbling into myself as my elbows dug into the concrete.

“God, Brittany,” I gasped into my hands. “Please… please, just talk to me. Just once. Please.”

Tears blurred my vision, hot and bitter, sliding down my face without permission. I sobbed, loud and raw, my shoulders shaking as people hurried past, their footsteps quickening, some glancing back with pity, others pretending not to see.

I didn’t care.

“Hey—hey, Ace!”

I heard the voice distantly, like through water. Fingers grabbed my shoulder, shaking me.

“Ace! Look at me!”

I forced my head up.

Sylvia.

She crouched in front of me, her red hair pulled into a messy bun, concern etched across her face.

“Ace, what the hell are you doing out here?” she whispered sharply, glancing nervously at the people passing. “You’re scaring people. Come on, get up.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. I can’t go back. I can’t go anywhere. She won’t even look at me.”

Sylvia’s eyes softened, her voice dropping. “I know, honey. I know she’s shutting you out. But you can’t fall apart in the middle of Main Street.”

I gave a broken laugh, swiping at my wet face. “Why not? It’s not like I have any pride left. She was it, Sylvia. She was everything. And I destroyed it.”

Sylvia sighed and sat down right on the cold sidewalk next to me, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Listen to me,” she said quietly, “Brittany’s been through hell. You know that. She built walls so high, no one’s been able to climb over them. Not me, not the therapists, not anyone. And you? You’re the one who put some of those bricks in place. You can’t expect her to pull them down overnight.”

I let out a dry, bitter noise. “I’m not expecting overnight. I just—I just wanted her to hear me out.”

“She’s terrified, Ace.” Sylvia’s voice softened further. “You hurt her when she was already in pieces. And now? She’s terrified you’ll shatter her all over again.”

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to my knees. “I know. God, I know. I keep replaying it. Over and over. All the moments I could’ve done something different. Said something. Shown up for her. And now I’m here, sitting on the sidewalk like some damn fool, and I don’t even know how to fix it.”

Sylvia was silent for a moment. Then, softly, “Ace… do you love her?”

My head snapped up, eyes raw. “What kind of question is that? Sylvia, she’s—she’s everything. She’s in my blood. I can’t— I can’t even breathe right without her.”

Sylvia smiled faintly, her eyes misty. “Then you need to fight for her. But not like this.”

I swallowed hard, throat burning. “I don’t know how to fight anymore. She’s shutting every door.”

“Then stop knocking on the door,” Sylvia said gently. “Start planting something at her window.”

I blinked, confused.

She smiled a little. “Show her you’re here without demanding anything. Be present without pushing. Let her see you’re not leaving. That’s how you earn her trust back.”

I closed my eyes, shoulders shaking with another quiet, helpless sob. “I’m so scared it’s too late, Sylvia. She’s twenty-eight, and she looks… God, she looks so beautiful and grown and untouchable. And I’m— I’m thirty-five, falling apart like a damn teenager.”

Sylvia reached out and squeezed my hand. “You’re still her Ace. Somewhere inside, she still remembers. But you have to show her the man you are now—not the man you were.”

We sat in silence, the street noise around us blurring into a background hum.

Finally, Sylvia gave my shoulder a nudge. “Come on. Let’s get you off this sidewalk. People are starting to whisper.”

I let her pull me to my feet, swaying slightly. I must’ve looked wrecked—my face blotchy, eyes swollen, shirt half untucked.

We walked slowly, aimlessly.

“Do you want me to talk to her again?” Sylvia asked cautiously.

I shook my head. “No. No more middlemen. If I want to show her I’ve changed, I have to stop using other people to reach her. I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

Sylvia smiled softly. “Good. That’s good, Ace.”

But inside, I felt like I was drowning.

Every night without Brittany felt like a lifetime. Every morning without hearing her voice was a fresh punishment. Every laugh I heard on the street that wasn’t hers twisted the knife deeper.

I went home that night, but it wasn’t home. It was four walls and a roof and a bed that mocked me with its emptiness.

I walked past the photos of Jasper and Corrine, past the boxes I still hadn’t unpacked, and collapsed on the floor of the living room, burying my face in my arms.

“Please,” I whispered into the dark. “Please, Brittany… just give me one more chance. I am sorry for being a monster in your life...ill spend the rest of my years rectifying that if you'll only let me.”