"Fine, I'll drive you home."
"But—"
"No argument accepted. Give me your car keys." I hesitate for a second, then retrieve the keys from my purse and hand them to him, because I don't feel capable of driving. I barely have enough energy to keep from bursting into tears.
"How will you come back?" I ask once we're in the Prius.
"Cab. Can you enter your address in the navigation system?” he says, pointing at the navigation system.
"Sure." I enter the address, then lean back, staring out the window as the car starts moving.
"He's not a bad person, you know."
"Don't start defending him."
"I'm not. I just want you to know that—"
"I don't get why he bothered getting involved with me at all," I spit. "He has an army of… women… who happily climb in his bed at the snap of his fingers. He didn't need one more meaningless name to that list."
"You were anything but meaningless, Serena," Parker says.
I turn to him furiously. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He looks at me shortly then focuses on the road again. "The way he talks about you… he admires you."
I snort.
"I mean it. He thinks you're smart and—"
"Are you making this stuff up?" I ask, the muscles of my neck quivering violently. I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror and discover there are no tears on my cheeks. Something about acute anger seems to be keeping them back.
"I'm not. He went on and on about your hospital thing last night."
"It didn't keep him from jumping in bed with Sophie."
This earns me a few minutes of silence. I don't want to know any of this. What he said or what he thinks. What purpose will it serve except making it that much harder to piece myself together again?
"James went through some rough stuff a few years ago."
And I finally do snap. "Everyone does, Parker. That's life. And honestly, his high school girlfriend leaving him isn't the roughest stuff."
Parker turns white. This time the silence lasts longer. We park the car in front of my block and wait for his cab when he says quietly, "Lara didn't leave him; she died. On our graduation day."
A sudden coldness chills my insides, and a lump in my throat makes breathing a chore. I gape at Parker in shock but he doesn't say one more word. His cab arrives and before sliding in it he mutters a quick, "See you," that I don't manage to return.
I don't find the solitude I was hoping for when I enter the apartment. Jess is on the phone, pacing like mad between the couch and the kitchen, speaking in a very formal tone. Her interview, of course. Jess stops dead in her tracks at the sight of me and raises her shoulders questioningly. I shake my head and walk directly to my room, where I finally find silence.
Where I'm finally alone.
One tear rolls down my cheek. I don't bother to brush it away. More will come anyway. I slide down the door, biting my arm to stop the sobs from escaping because I don't want Jess to hear me. The anger's gone and I miss it so. It was invigorating and satisfying, fulfilling even. The pain isn't. It's raw and devastating.
Unbearable.
And at the end of anger lies nothing but pain.
A thousand tears fall on my blue dress—shreds of my shattering heart. They fall for him and for me; for all the kisses and the words we had. They fall harder for all those we will never have again. I hug my knees, and dig my nails deep into my ankles. To no avail. The shudders don't stop. The gasping breaths keep choking me. How can this hurt so much?