Greek (Palm South University)

I tap the little circle.

And then I freeze when I see the most recent post.

For a moment, my thumb just hovers over it. I don’t want to see it blown up to full-screen. I can tell just from the small thumbnail what it is.

Kip, dressed to the nines, full suit and bow tie and dress shoes and a watch I bought him in Vegas.

And Natalia, in a short, silver, slinky dress with thin straps.

He has his arm around her waist, and she has hers around his, and when the picture was snapped, he was smiling at the camera.

She was smiling up at him.

I nearly vomit when I finally tap it and pull it full size — especially when I see all the likes and comments underneath it. The caption reads That’s a wrap on editing! Can’t wait to bring Black Number Four to your laptop screens and home TVs, and for you all to see this amazing girl in action.

The comments range from congratulations! and can’t wait! to cute couple! and wow, you’re both glowing!

The more I scroll, the more those tears I’ve been holding back threaten to break loose. I feel them blurring my vision, feel them tightening my throat, feel them suffocating me and demanding to be felt.

“Sky…” Bear says, leaning up to look at the screen with me. When he sees it, he mutters, “shit,” and takes the phone from me, tossing it on the coffee table.

I look at him.

And then I break.

Covering my face with my hands, I do my best to breathe through the terrible sobs that wash over me like a thunderous, relentless wave. Bear pulls me into his chest and holds me close, whispering that it will be okay.

But I know it won’t.

When we had our fight, I was angry. I was pissed off. I was so fucking hurt that I couldn’t see him. Over the summer, I needed that space. And even when he left to go back to California, I was still upset, but I think…

I think deep down, through all that, I just always assumed it was a phase.

I always assumed it was just a fight, just a summer apart, just something we would have to work through.

I thought we’d make it through.

The realization that I was wrong strikes me like a fist to the gut, and I double over, surrendering to another massive attack of painful cries.

He’s having the time of his life while my life falls apart.

And somehow, I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault.

“SHIT!” I CURSE AS the contents carefully balanced on the top shelf of my closet tumble out and rain down on me, a shower of shoes and yoga equipment and long-forgotten hobbies.

Erin runs over from her room, makeup half-done and hair pinned back. “What was that? Are you okay?”

I grunt, looking at the mess on the floor. But spotting what I was looking for, I swipe it off the ground and plop onto my unmade bed. “Just peachy.”

Erin offers a soft smile at that, her shoulders deflating a little. She strolls over to me and sits on the edge of the bed. “Is this your favorite pair of shoes or something?” she asks, tapping the lid of the old shoebox in front of me.

“It’s my own personal form of torture that I like to succumb myself to from time to time.”

Erin cocks a brow.

I sigh. “It’s a memory box,” I explain, flipping the lid off to reveal the contents inside. “Mostly of Jarrett. And then…”

“Kade,” Erin finishes for me, fishing out a picture of us from that first formal we attended together.

“Yep.”

Erin smiles at the picture, setting it aside before holding up a greasy pizza napkin. She wrinkles her nose. “Pictures, I understand. But this?”

“They’re memories,” I defend, swiping the napkin from her. I smile at the nasty thing. “This was from when Jarrett flew in to visit from New York. We had amazing sex when he first landed, and then knew we weren’t leaving the room. So, I ordered pizza, and we stayed in.” I bit my lip. “All. Night. Long.”

“Okay,” Erin says, holding up her hands and standing. “I think this memory box is a personal experience.”

I chuckle. “You off to class?”

“Leaving in ten. Are you going to work?”

I shake my head. “We had three weddings this weekend — Friday, Saturday, and last night, so we all have today off to recover.”

Erin nods. “I’ll be back tonight. If you want to talk,” she adds, her eyes falling to the box before they land on me again.

“You sure you’re up for that crazy ride of me talking through my feelings right now?”

“Always.”

She blows me a kiss, and then she’s out the door, and I settle back into memory lane.

The last week has been a whirlwind.

After Jarrett left — which wasn’t until very, very late the morning after Halloween — I nearly had a breakdown. All the memories of us had come rushing back, completely washing over the foundation I’d just rebuilt and fortified with Kade.