Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m sitting on the couch, staring at the dark TV screen when Lauren walks in. “Hey.” She glances at the blank screen and turns back to me. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

She pulls off her boots and pads over to the sofa, moving a throw pillow to sit next to me. “Talk to me.”

“He passed me off to someone else today. Said he doesn’t want me to become too dependent. He made it sound like I’m a clingy girlfriend, and he dumped me.” I snap my fingers without making any noise. “Just like that.” Grabbing a pillow to my lap, I hug it close. “What the hell is wrong with me? As soon as I start to get close to someone, they’re like, ‘Oh God no. Why would I want you?’ Like I’m the suckiest person alive.”

She rests her head on my shoulder. “You’re the furthest thing from sucky, and you know it. At least, on a better day you would. Maybe it’s their policy to switch trainers after a certain number of sessions.”

“Nope. I read the contract. It’s me.” The lump in my throat prevents me from sharing my fears about him and Jasmine.

She sighs. “I don’t know what to say. He seemed like he cared so much about you.”

My thoughts screech to a halt. “What do you mean? When?”

“That night he brought you home—I mean, I was pissed at first because I thought he was the one who got you drunk, but I knew that couldn’t be right, because he was so gentle with you.”

I wrap my arms around myself, remembering the way he insisted on getting me home, and how he told Lauren to make me toast. If only I could remember every sweet thing he did that night, but it’s a hazy blur. “That may be true, but I think he just likes to be the good guy. He is a good guy, but it doesn’t matter.” I sit up straighter on the sofa. “I’ve done a lot of thinking since I got home.”

“And?”

“I think I put myself in situations where there’s a high potential for a painful outcome. It’s like I want to experience pain that I inflict upon myself so no one else can hurt me. I knew Brad and I wouldn’t last. God, I couldn’t even say I love you back when he said it.”

“Oh, man. I didn’t know that.”

“I’m an emotional hazard to myself.”

“Aw, sweetie. It sounds to me like you’re making a lot of important discoveries about yourself. And think about it—maybe being with Brad was the launchpad you needed to break through some issues. You stayed true to yourself, and you didn’t try to fake feelings. That’s huge. And now you’ve fallen for someone unexpected. It seems your heart is more open than ever. You can call yourself an emotional hazard all you want, but I think you’re the opposite.”

A small laugh whooshes out of me. “You’re good at the positive spin.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth.”

“Thanks for saying that. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As I head to my room, memories of the cab ride with Ryan drift into my mind. They’re hazy and scattered, but I know how I felt. Safe. Protected. The picture he painted sits on my desk where I left it. I pick it up, staring into the bright eyes of the younger me. “I’ll take care of you, sweet girl,” I whisper to the picture. Tears flood my eyes. If he had painted a picture of me on the day we got caught in the rain, my smile would’ve dazzled through the gray skies. Or on the day I saw him at the beach with Sydney, or when I slammed the freaking battle ropes the first day we met. Every day with him was perfect.

But it’s over. The tears spill down my face, stinging my lips with their salt, and I sink onto my bed. I think it’d be cool for you to try some sessions with Javier. The words were like a sword to my heart. No, not a sword. More like getting the wind knocked out of me. Like I knew all along he didn’t feel the way I do, but when I was forced to hear the words, it took my breath. I pound one of my pillows before tossing it to the floor, wishing I could make the searing pain go away. But there’s only an empty, hollow place inside where my heart once lived.

Brad only bruised my ego. Ryan shattered my heart.