Oh, my God, I can’t believe he’s doing this to me. Finding out about Brooke tore me up inside. Even though it hurt like hell to see him walk away all those months ago, I never took him for a cheater.
Technically, I guess he isn’t a cheater since he dumped me, but that’s how it feels right now. He’s now burned me twice, and I have the scars to prove it.
It’s taken me months to build up those walls that I swore up and down he could never get around. Somehow, he started to make that climb over and back in my life, but now knowing he’s been with someone else, while I wasted away, it feels impossible to let him back inside.
What really pisses me off is that if I she hadn’t sent the text, would he have ever told me? Probably not, and I’d be the one feeling guilty over Simon. Simon- who I did nothing more than kiss. Even then it felt horribly wrong to move on, but I did it. Now, I have to start over. I need, no, I want to go home.
Technically there are three days left in our so called blissful reunion. Blissful my ass. I came here believing it was a way back to Ethan. Sure, I could have done it back in England, but this was going to be way more fun. Turns out, not so fun.
I can’t stop thinking of him being with her, kissing her, touching someone else. I can’t get the image out of my head. Part of me feels guilty, because of Simon, but I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. I feel guilty because I never stopped loving him. Not for one-second have I stopped loving Ethan.
Even now, knowing all his flaws and insecurities, and trust me, there are a lot, deep down I still love him. But, the bottom line is, I need to go home and start a life without him. Maybe someday down the road we’ll find each other again, start over. Maybe.
Ethan still has not come back to the room. Not that I really expect him to, but I do need some help with the flight to get home to New York. Instead of heading downstairs to find him, I spend my time packing.
It’s not until I’m in the bathroom, placing the last of my things in my toiletry bag that I hear the door open. My hands clutch the rim of the sink, my eyes stare into the mirror, as I force myself to breathe in and breathe out.
In the reflection of the mirror, I see Ethan standing in the doorway watching me.
“So you’re leaving?” He asks. I nod without being to find a simple word like yes. He nods back. “I figured you might, but I hoped you wouldn’t.” He pauses for a second, then begins to walk away, then turns around to face me. “So this is it? Us? We’re over?”
I push my way around him to sit on the bed without answering him.
He walks toward me, but doesn’t sit. He squats down in front of me, without looking at me, and says, “I really can’t walk away from you without at least getting a last shot, Soph. If you listen to me, and still want to go, we’ll call the airline and get you on the next flight to Rochester. You’ll never have to see me again. I promise.”
I barely glance at him. AS much as I want to hear what he has to say, it scares me. I’m so close to caving in, and part of wants to, but I’m so afraid of getting burned again. “It’s late, Ethan. I just want to go to sleep.”
“Okay, but promise me we can talk tomorrow. It’s only a few more days, just stay,” I plead.
I pull the blankets over my head, without answering.