The Boy Who Has No Redemption (Soulless 8)

Lizzie stopped reading and turned her head to look at me. “Mom, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I kept my voice controlled. “Just tired.”

She continued to study me, her eyes narrowing like she didn’t believe me. “Are you sure? Because you look—”

“I said I’m fine, Lizzie.” I snapped at my daughter when she was just showing concern, but I really wanted the questions to stop, for her to stop picking at my wound that was still fresh and red…about to bleed out everywhere.

But it made me feel worse, to treat her that way.

And that made me hate Derek, hate him for what he’d done to me.

Maybe I would handle my heartbreak better if I’d been heartbroken before. I didn’t fall in love in college or at some other point in my adult life. This was the first time it had ever happened to me, on the cusp of thirty, and it was such a hard time to experience it. It was like chicken pox, which was manageable to get as a child, but absolute torture as an adult.

And this was absolute torture.

3

Derek

Dad texted me. Want to come over for dinner tonight?

I’ve got a lot of work to do. Next time. He’d asked me last week and I’d blown him off, and then I did it again this week. Every time they asked, I would keep doing the same thing until they stopped asking altogether.

We’re planning to do Christmas at the cabin. Will that be okay?

Sure. I wasn’t going to Christmas. I didn’t even know when Christmas was. I grabbed my phone and checked the date. Jesus, it was in less than a week.

Will Emerson and Lizzie be joining us?

I stared at that message and immediately felt irritated. I knew this topic would come up eventually. I wished I could just say it was over and then be done with it. But if I told him the truth, it would result in a phone call…and a conversation…and another conversation. I’ll ask her.

Alright. Love you.

Love you too.

“Are you and Emerson no longer seeing each other?” Jerome stood beside me and asked the question while his eyes were on his work.

The question shook my focus. “Why?”

“She never comes in here anymore except to bring lunch, and…you’re different.”

“I’m fine.”

“So…are you seeing each other or not?”

I kept working. “No.”

Jerome was quiet and still. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine.” I kept working.

“Are you sure? Because ever since the rocket—”

I snapped. “If you want to go out with her, go ahead. I don’t give a damn, Jerome.”

“Uh, that’s not why I’m asking.” He stepped away slightly, like he felt like he needed to give me space. “I’m just checking in to make sure you’re okay. That’s all. And it doesn’t seem like you are.”

“I said I was fine.” I lifted my chin and looked at him, giving him a cold stare that warned him not to press this. “We’ve got a lot of shit to do before Christmas break, so can we focus?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I sat alone in the warehouse, working on the rover I intended to work on over Christmas. I didn’t want to take a trip to the cabin with my family. Hot cocoa and long conversations sounded dreadful right now.

Her heels tapped against the floor as she approached me. “Derek?” Her voice was firm and professional.

I lifted my chin and looked at her because it was the first time we’d spoken that week.

Her gaze was disgusted, like having this conversation with me was unpleasant. “I’m leaving for Christmas break. Is there anything you need me to take care of before I go?” Her hands came together in front of her waist, her body posture completely different than it used to be.

I shook my head.

She turned around the second she was dismissed. “Have a good Christmas, Derek.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Dad texted me. Hey, little man. Mom just wants a final head count. Emerson is coming with Lizzie?

I stared at the message and wanted to ignore it. They can’t make it.

Oh, that’s too bad. Maybe we can have them over tomorrow before we go? Have a little Christmas celebration?

My dad was being a pain in the ass. I think they have plans. Don’t worry about it.

Alright. My dad left it alone.

I went back to work.

But he texted me again. Everything alright?

How did he pick up on that through a message? Yes. Just busy.

Because I feel like there’s something wrong, Derek. You’re sure?

Yes, I’ll talk to you later.

4

Emerson

I took Lizzie shopping for last-minute gifts for her grandma and grandpa. She made a little money throughout the year doing chores around the house and the occasional fund raiser at school, and it was sweet that she saved her limited funds for Christmas presents at the end of the year.

She walked through the store and sighed to herself. “Ugh, shopping is hard.”

I moved with her, my hands in my pockets. “Grandma and Grandpa will like anything you get them. Don’t stress about it.”