“How long?” I asked him.
“Grace…”
“How. Long?”
He lowered his head. “Since I moved back here.”
“Wait…so she wasn’t…” I took a breath. “You cheated on me with someone else before her?”
“Gracelyn—”
“Were there more? More than the two of them?”
He went mute.
Ohmygosh.
“I hate you,” I pushed out. “I hate you. I hate you!” I kept hitting him. My hands slammed into his body repeatedly, and he didn’t even try to stop me because he knew he deserved it.
“I was going to tell you. I just…” He swallowed hard. “After everything we went through—”
“No,” I cried. “You didn’t go through it. You didn’t go through it—I did. I went through it,” I shouted, my hands wrapped around my body. I had no one to hold me, so I was in charge of holding myself. “I went through it all, and y-y-you…” Tears blinded me as I stared at a man I’d once thought was mine. The ache in my chest burned throughout me, and I choked out my final words. “You broke me, Finley. You broke me.”
My chest was on fire, each breath more difficult than the last. He reached toward me, and I ripped my arm away from him. He couldn’t touch me. I was no longer his to hold.
I headed toward town to try to get some air, to try to come to grips with what had just happened, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I’d made a major mistake by walking through downtown Chester. Everywhere I turned, I ran into the familiar face of someone who wanted to talk to me, wanted to ask me questions, wanted to know why my eyes were flooded with tears.
Each person made my heart crack. Each question singed my skin. I wasn’t in the right mindset to deal with anyone or anything.
I can’t breathe…
I began rushing, trying my best to avoid people on the whole. Everyone in town seemed so happy, and that was hard for me. It hurt more than I thought possible to push my way through a space filled with happiness. Everyone was alive, everyone was filled with life, and my insides felt hollow.
Whenever I blinked, I was certain I was seconds away from falling apart.
How was it possible?
How could one be in the middle of a town, surrounded by people who knew you, yet feel so unbelievably alone?
I took a moment to slow down in front of the pizzeria, leaning against the brick wall and trying to inhale, but the air was still hard to take in.
My body was sweaty, and my vision blurry. Whenever I blinked, I saw him with her. Whenever I breathed, the shards of my heart stabbed my soul.
I was seconds away from a mental breakdown, moments away from losing myself when a hand landed on my shoulder and I flipped around, panicking as I made eye contact with Jackson. The palms of my hands were sweaty, and my heart pounded rapidly against my ribcage.
“Hey,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. The concern on his face was heavy, and I was surprised to find that a man like him could be concerned.
I must’ve looked that bad off.
“I-I-I…” I tried to say I was okay, nodding so he wouldn’t worry. “I’m o-okay. I think I’m j-ju-just…” I couldn’t push the words out, so I started waving my hands toward me, trying to collect my next breaths, and Jackson shook his head.
“You’re having a panic attack,” he told me.
I nodded once more. “Yes. That.” My hands fell to my chest, and I swore any second I’d be okay. I had to be okay. There had to be a point when the breaking pieces stopped breaking, right?
“Come here,” Jackson said, holding his hand out toward me.
“I’m…I’m f-fine,” I stuttered, but he just shook his head as people walked past us on the street, whispering and staring.
“Princess,” he said, his voice low. He moved his hand closer and gave me the gentlest stare. “Trust me.”
I didn’t. I didn’t know what trust was anymore. The two people who were supposed to always stand by my side had ruined my idea of trust, but…
I needed to breathe.
Just for a moment.
I took Jackson’s hand, and he walked me around the corner to the alleyway. Stepping back against a mural, we leaned against the brick wall. As I began to fall apart, I tried to apologize to him, but my words came out jumbled and incoherent.
“You’re fine,” he said sternly.
I kept huffing and puffing, but nothing was working. As my body was about to hit the concrete, as I was about to surrender to my pain, I was surprised when I melted into Jackson Emery’s arms.
He caught me.
He held me.
He wouldn’t let me fall.
I yanked on his shirt, pulling him closer as I fell apart against him. I wanted to be brave, wanted to end my meltdown, but for a split second, as Jackson held me, it felt okay to have my moment and fall apart. When my sobbing became too intense, when it felt like anxiety and panic would swallow me whole, he held me closer.