Page 9 of The Wreckage Of Us (US #2)

Ace

I’d been standing outside Brittany’s apartment for nearly twenty minutes, pacing back and forth like an idiot with a bouquet of lilies clenched tightly in my fist. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat louder than the next, drowning out every rational thought I tried to string together.

My palms were sweaty. My throat dry. My heart — shattered.

For the past few days, she hadn’t returned my calls, my texts, or the flowers I sent. Hell, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she blocked my number. I deserved it.

But tonight, I couldn’t walk away. Not anymore.

I took a shaky breath, ran a hand through my hair, and raised my fist to knock. My knuckles hovered just above the wood.

God, please… just open the door.

Before I could chicken out, I knocked. Once, twice, three times — sharp taps that echoed in the quiet hallway.

No sound from inside.

My chest tightened. I knocked again, softer this time. “Britt… please,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to the door. “Please open up.”

For a few moments, there was only silence. Then… the faint click of the lock. The door creaked open an inch.

And there she was.

Brittany.

Her eyes were red, the skin beneath them puffy, and her hair was pulled into a messy bun like she hadn’t slept in days. My heart clenched at the sight of her. She looked like she was barely holding it together. And the truth was, neither was I.

I held up the lilies, swallowing hard. “Hi,” I rasped, my voice raw.

She stared at me, her lips trembling, her arms crossed over her chest like she was trying to hold herself in place.

“Ace,” she whispered, almost like she didn’t believe I was real.

“I… I brought these for you.” My fingers fumbled with the ribbon on the bouquet, my heart pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it. “You always said lilies reminded you of your mom.”

For a second, something flickered in her eyes — pain, maybe, or softness — but it was gone just as fast.

“I can’t… I can’t do this right now,” she murmured, starting to close the door.

Panic shot through me.

“Wait!” I stepped forward, my hand pressing against the door, voice cracking. “Please, Britt. Please just—don’t shut me out. Not yet.”

She hesitated.

“Five minutes,” I whispered. “That’s all I’m asking. Five minutes, and if you want me gone, I’ll walk away.”

Brittany let out a shaky breath. Her grip on the door tightened, her nails white from the pressure.

Finally, she stepped back, opening the door just wide enough for me to slip inside.

I exhaled slowly, stepping into the apartment. It smelled like her — soft vanilla and a hint of lavender — and just being here made my chest ache all over again.

She stood across from me, arms still crossed, eyes guarded. “Why are you here, Ace?”

I ran a trembling hand through my hair, feeling the weight of everything I was about to say crashing down on me. “Because I’m an idiot,” I whispered. “Because I’ve screwed everything up, and I can’t lose you.”

Her jaw tightened, and I saw the shine of fresh tears in her eyes. “You should have thought of that before you married someone else.”

The words sliced through me like a knife.

I stumbled back a step, my knees weak. “I didn’t marry Sierra because I wanted to,” I choked. “Brittany, I was forced.”

She scoffed, turning away. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” My voice broke. “I swear to you, I’m not.”

Brittany turned slowly, her eyes blazing. “Then tell me. Explain. Because right now, all I can see is the man who broke me.”

I felt the ground sway beneath me. My throat tightened. My chest ached like it was splitting in half.

I took a shaky breath, and the words poured out, raw and desperate.

“My father…” My voice shook. “He blackmailed me, Brittany. He threatened to leak to the press about your mental health — about the times you’d…

you’d regress under stress, act like a child, about the hospital stays you fought so hard to hide.

He wanted to ruin you. And not just you — he wanted to destroy your father’s Senate campaign.

He was sponsoring it. One leak, and it would’ve been over. ”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.

“I begged him,” I went on, voice cracking. “I begged him not to do it. But he said the only way was if I married Sierra.”

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled forward, dropping to my knees in front of her.

“I didn’t love her, Britt. I never did. And Karla…

God.” My chest heaved, and I pressed a hand against it like I could physically hold in the sob.

“Karla happened after a night I got drunk out of my mind because I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe. ”

Brittany’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide, shimmering with tears.

“I know you hate me.” My voice shattered as the first sob tore through my throat. “But please, Britt, don’t think for a second that I stopped loving you. Not once. Not even for a heartbeat.”

Her lips trembled. “Ace…”

I pressed my forehead to her knees, gasping for breath. “I thought I was protecting you. God, I was so wrong. I destroyed everything. I destroyed us.”

Her fingers hovered in the air like she wanted to touch me but didn’t know how.

I squeezed my eyes shut, another sob ripping free. “And the worst part?” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I would’ve walked through hell if it meant keeping you safe. And instead, I ended up being the one who hurt you most.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was my ragged breathing and the quiet, broken sound of her crying.

I felt her knees buckle as she sank down in front of me, her hands trembling as they hovered over my shoulders. I dared to look up, and when our eyes met, it was like the air was sucked from my lungs.

“I can’t forgive you yet,” Brittany whispered, her voice shaking, her tears falling freely. “Not yet.”

My heart clenched, shattering into pieces.

But then — her hands, soft and trembling, cupped my face. “But I’ll listen,” she whispered. “I’ll listen to everything you have to say.”

A sob broke from my throat, and I buried my face in her hands, clutching her wrists like they were the only lifeline I had left.

“Thank you,” I choked out. “Thank you, Britt.”

We stayed like that, kneeling on the floor, both of us shaking, both of us broken. But in that moment — just that small, trembling moment — I felt the tiniest crack of light push through the darkness.

And maybe, just maybe, it was enough.