Break Up with Him, for Me (You Belong With Me 1)

“Not at all.”

“Then what the hell, Hayden? Space for what?”

He stood there looking half sympathetic, half defeated, and as much as I wanted him to pull me into his arms and say this was a bad attempt at a joke, I took a step back.

I couldn’t help allowing my mind to wander to several different places at once. The destination that stood out the most was the ugliest, and I didn’t want to believe it was true.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“What?”

“What. Did. You. Do?” My voice cracked. “Tell me the truth because I’m not buying the ‘I need space’ bullshit.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pressed his forehead against mine. “I haven’t done anything that would hurt you.”

“Did it happen in Vegas?”

“Penelope …”

“Was it on the night you left the room to go to that cigar shop? Or was it here in New York maybe? Already tired of being with one woman?”

“No, Penelope.” He looked genuine, but his words weren’t adding up, and every unanswered question was cracking a new piece of my heart.

“If this is some type of game,” I said, “I don’t want to play.”

“It’s not a game. I’m being honest.”

“Well, per your own advice, a guy only says he wants ‘space’ when he’s trying to be gentle about breaking up with you, or when he’s cheated and wants to save face because he knows you’ll never forgive him.”

“Penelope, I would never cheat on you.”

“I would never forgive you if you did, but you could at least have the decency to tell me why my best friend for almost a decade, the same guy who told me that he loved me last night and wants to build a future together, is now randomly, fucking randomly, standing on my doorstep and telling me something completely different.”

“I just need some space. That’s it.”

“Okay, let’s start now then. Don’t fucking call me until you’ve taken all the space you need, and I’ll consider talking to you again.”

“Penelope, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Breaks and spaces lead to breakups, Hayden. You taught me that, too. Doesn’t that still hold true?”

He let out a sigh, but he didn’t say anything.

“I thought so.” I slammed the door in his face.

Guilt tightened its grip around my heart later that night, pulling on the strings with every second that passed.

I couldn’t help but think about the stretch of weeks in the past when I could only text or email him if certain trials and depositions wore on too long.

Besides, he didn’t say, “Let’s breakup,” didn’t mention anything of the sort; I was being overly dramatic, and I could probably blame it on the fact that U.S. Figure Skating had received my rejection letter by now.

I was taking my uneasiness about saying no out on him.

Sighing, I scrolled down to his name and started to send him a text message, but that guilt suddenly transformed into suspicion.

0

Something told me to search his name to see what “new, silly headlines” he was talking about.

The moment the results appeared, my stomach fell to the floor.

Hayden Hunter Caught Leaving Four Seasons at 4 a.m.

* * *

Hayden Hunter & Supermodel Anya Sterling Sleeping Together?

* * *

Hayden Hunter’s Late Night Tryst with Anya Sterling

* * *

What the fuck?

I checked the dates.

They were for the other night. The night when he asked for the raincheck.

Even if I didn’t want to believe the headline—even if my heart begged me to call him and see if there was more to the story, the images said enough.

They said it all.

Hayden’s hand was pressed against the supermodel’s back as they walked through the doors of the hotel. The photog caught them coming and going, with time stamps confirming how long they were inside.

He cheated on me …

Thirty-Nine

Present Day

Penelope

I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep.

All I could do was cry.

I stayed in my room with the door shut, watching my old performances and wishing I could go back in time to the night when Hayden first picked me up in Seattle.

If I could rewind time to the beginning, I’d keep him at a cold distance that was never meant to be crossed or warmed.

I should’ve waited for another Uber.

My heart splintered in my chest—breaking into smaller pieces, each time I refreshed my screen and saw another article about Hayden with Anya. Each time I replayed him standing on my doorstep and lying right to my face. Promising me that he would be different for me.

I can’t believe him.

Hastily changing his name in my phone to ‘Do Not Answer’ and blocking him did nothing except make me cry harder.

My worst fears about dating him had come true; I’d lost my best friend and my boyfriend at the same damn time.

After crying for three days in a row, I called the U.S. Figure Skating Association and begged to speak to Deborah.