I know I might be overreacting, but I’m worried.
“Hey, Stu. Thanks for taking my call.”
“I didn’t give you my cell phone for nothing. What’s up?”
I clear my throat, wondering if I’m making the right decision. But I don’t even know why I’m questioning myself. I want to take care of Jace before I leave. “I know I’m supposed to come in today. But I’m leaving town tomorrow, like I had said, and I’ve had classes all day and I really need to pack. Is there any way I can start Wednesday?”
“Of course,” he says loudly, causing me to hold the phone away from my ear. “You were just gonna do paperwork since I had to leave the office today. Wednesday is great, but you better come with a song we can work on together.”
I smile even though he can’t see me. “Absolutely.”
“Then we’re good. Have a nice trip,” he says as I push the door open to the music building, going out into the brisk fall air.
I know he wants to end the call, but I continue, “Also, I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“Yeah? Which part?”
“My voice. That you think it isn’t sellable.”
“Oh? And?”
“I know I said that I think I am sellable, but I’m second-guessing that.”
“Okay. So what are you saying?”
Gah, what am I saying? Is that what I want? A part of me knows it is. But then I’m not sure if it’s because of the anxiety the stage causes or if it’s because I know I’ll never see Jace. We don’t see each other enough as it is, and the thought of going months without him is painful. But lately, the anxiety has been insane. It could change when I go on my new meds, but it might not. I don’t want to work for something that is unattainable. Something that can compromise my health. I have to think about me here. And in the long run, songwriting is my passion. It’s what makes me the happiest. Yes, I love performing my songs, building my songs, but what if my anxiety gets worse? But is this living my dreams? I’m so torn.
“I think I want to be a songwriter.”
“Cool, I think you’re brilliant, and I support that. I feel you’ll go further than you would as a performer, honestly.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod. “I could change my mind, though,” I add with a laugh, and he laughs along with me.
“Avery, the showcase isn’t until March. We have time to figure it out. But, in the meantime, I want you to write. I want you to write till your fingers bleed.”
Grinning, I look up and my head falls to the side when I see Jace leaning against my car. What the hell? Remembering that I’m on the phone, I say, “Yeah, no problem. I have notebooks upon notebooks of songs.”
“Then do me a favor and drop them off to me today. Is that possible?”
I stop in front of Jace and his eyes are on me as I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go get them and run them up to your office.”
“Awesome, I’ll go through them this weekend, and we’ll discuss Wednesday. Have a nice trip.”
“Thanks, Stu.” I hang up, nodding to Jace’s leg. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Not walking?”
“I drove,” he says, hooking his thumb to where his car is. His body is tense, his eyes dark, and I think he’s mad.
What in the world?
“Are you okay? Are you in pain? You look pissed.”
“I am,” he answers, coming off the car and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
I nod. “I do, but it can wait. What’s wrong?” I take a step toward him, and when I reach out to touch him, he moves out of my range. My brows come crashing together as I eye him. “Jace?”
“So I talked to Jude today,” he says, his eyes burning into mine. “And he told me that he and Seth talked.”
Oh, fuck.
Just like that, my heart speeds up in my chest and everything goes silent except for the loud crashing of my heart in my ears as I watch him, my eyes wide. Blinking, I clear my throat.
“Okay?” I say, trying to act as if that doesn’t matter, but I know it does. I can see it in his eyes. Seth told Jude, who in return told Jace, which means he knows. Dread is seeping out of my pores, my heart is in my throat, and true fear is in my chest. If I thought my anxiety was bad before, nothing compares to the drowning feeling I have right now. He isn’t happy, I can tell that, but surely he’ll understand.
Won’t he?
“His story was a bit different than the one you told me. And the thing is, you’ve lied to me, Avery. About a lot of stuff.”
Taking a step forward, I hold my hands up. “I didn’t lie. I held back because I didn’t think it mattered.”
His eyes widen. “Avery, you tried to kill yourself,” he bites out. “You told me it ended with the cutting.”
“Well, I mean, it did,” I say, but I know I’m just trying to justify what I told him. “I cut myself to die.”
“Avery! That’s not okay!”
“I know,” I yell, my chest aching from my heart slamming into it. “But Jace, it was bad. Caleb forced me to do it, in a way. You wouldn’t believe the texts he’d send me or the notes he’d leave in my locker, telling me to just kill myself. He tortured me. And Matty just laughed.”
“What?” he asks, incredulously. “I mean, shit, Avery. That’s hard to believe.”
“Because you love your family, and they love you. My brothers hate me. I’m a nuisance—the stick-holder. My own brother, my twin, thought that his best friend taunting me to hurt myself was funny.” My voice breaks and tears flood my eyes. “I had no one to turn to, and I just cracked. I didn’t think I had any way out. Caleb texted me over and over again, ‘Just pick up the knife. Do it. No one loves you.’ And so on and so on. It was horrible. You have to understand why I don’t want to bring it up, why I just want it to disappear. I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, he looks down at the ground, and I didn’t expect that. I thought he would reach for me, hug me, but he’s not moving. I thought he would understand, get why I hide that part of my life, but it appears he doesn’t. Flabbergasted, I say, “Jace, surely, you get it. Why I wouldn’t want that coming out.”
He looks up, his eyes so dark that they’re scary, and I find myself gasping for breath. “I understand not wanting to tell anyone else, but me? The person you love, or claim to love. Why couldn’t you tell me?” His voice is full of hurt and hardness.
“I do love you,” I wheeze, and I feel like the walls are closing in, his gaze is so hard. “So damn much, but I didn’t want anyone to know about that part of my life.”
He tucks his hands into his pockets, his eyes still holding mine. “I’m not just anyone, Avery. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought you respected me more than to lie to me.”
I throw my hands up. “I do! And I wouldn’t count that as a lie, Jace. I just held back something horrible ’cause I didn’t think you needed to know. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“But it is something I needed to know. I’d rather hear it from you than my brother. I mean, do you not trust me? I do nothing but support you, help you, and still you hold back.”
“Yes, Jace, I do trust you,” I say, chancing it and taking ahold of his elbows. When he doesn’t flinch or pull back, I’m relieved. “I do, and I’m trying. But that is something that hurts every time I think about it. Caleb tortured me. The things he said, the things he called me… And in the end, when I said, ‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ he said, ‘Good, see ya in hell.’ He didn’t even care. He had no remorse. He didn’t even apologize when it came out. Nothing, and it just hurt, Jace. So damn bad. Because while he didn’t care, neither did my brothers. They called me an attention whore and told my mom I faked the whole thing. But I didn’t. I can still feel the tip of the knife in my skin, dragging down my wrist, and the blood spilling out of me.”
I choke on a sob as I close my eyes, the tears rushing down my cheeks. Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I don’t want to remember that. I don’t want you to know that part of me. The weak, pathetic excuse for a person who allowed some dude to break her to the point of ending it. I’m sorry, Jace, I really am. But I promise that’s it. There is nothing else to tell.”
He doesn’t say anything and still doesn’t take me into his arms, which confuses me. Why doesn’t he understand? I just put myself completely out there; I admitted to everything. I open my eyes, locking gazes with him as I wipe away tears. “I don’t know what else to say.”
He swallows, his jaw clenching, and my heart sinks because I don’t understand this look. I don’t understand what is happening or why this is happening. Can’t I catch a fucking break? I find the guy of my dreams, and like usual, it all goes to shit because of my family. Or maybe because of me. Maybe it is my fault. Everything.
“I hate that this has happened to you, Avery, I do. I wish I was the first person you met. I wish I was the one who loved you from the beginning, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but that’s not the only thing you’ve lied about, Avery. And it’s killing me that you still aren’t acknowledging it.”
My brows come together as a tear escapes, and I’m surprised it doesn’t freeze to my face, it’s so cold. “What? I didn’t lie about anything else.”
“Seth said your dad ruined Caleb’s career.”
I pause, my face twisting in even more confusion, if that is even possible. “What? No, he didn’t.”
But Jace nods his head before bringing his phone out of his pocket and clicking a few things. He hands it to me, and I take it, looking down at the screen. When I see Caleb’s name, I’m sure my heart is going to burst through my chest and fall to the ground. Jace contacted him? He talked to him? Fucking hell.
Jace Sinclair: Hey dude, don’t know if you remember me, but we played in the Junior Worlds together. I saw your name on another friend’s comments and was wondering what the hell happen to you? Hope all is well. Africa looks badass.
Caleb Rutherford: Hey man! Yeah, I remember, hope all is well with you, dude. I for real just saw a blog post about you. You’re doing big things, dude, that’s awesome!
Jace Sinclair: Thanks man, but what happened to you? I was sure we’d be in the NHL together sooner rather than later.
Caleb Rutherford: Dude, right? I wish! I got involved with this family and shit went bad. I quit the league. Instead of jumping back in, I just said fuck it and left. Guess my heart wasn’t into it.
Jace Sinclair: Got involved?
Caleb Rutherford: Dude, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you but the dad is fucking Benedict Haverbrooke, and I knew that after what happened, I wasn’t going anywhere. Their words, not mine.
Jace Sinclair: Sucks, bro, but listen hit me up if you are ever in Nashville.
Caleb Rutherford: Absolutely, dude, good luck.
When my tears fall onto the screen of his phone, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. What I’m reading. “You contacted him?” I ask, my tears falling faster down my face.
“I had to know the truth.”
I look up then, my lip wobbling as I push his phone into his chest. “I told you the truth. I don’t know what he is talking about, but my dad wouldn’t do that—not for me. He loved Caleb.”
“You may not think your dad loves you, but come on, Avery. With everything that happened, how could he not retaliate?”
“Because he didn’t know!” I scream, my body shaking as my breath whooshes in and out of my body. “No one knew. I didn’t tell them what he did because Matty told me that if I did—” I pause, my throat tight as I shake my head. How do I admit this? How do I tell him this? Looking up, I feel my lip tremble as my tears fall in a rush. “That he’d kill me if Caleb went down for what happened. I believed him and kept my mouth shut.”
Everything hurts, and this is why I didn’t ever want to talk about this. It’s all so embarrassing, such a painful memory, and I hate it. I hate who I was, that I allowed people to do that to me. That I didn’t stand up for myself, tell Matty to stuff it, and bring Caleb down. I let him get away with hurting me, almost killing me, and that’s something I have to live with. But I learned from it, I fought through it, and I’m better now. I am. I’m going to be okay.
But when I see Jace’s face, suddenly, I’m worried I won’t be.
Tears are in his eyes as he slowly shakes his head. “I don’t know, Avery. I hate this, I do, but you have to understand. This is my career, and while I love you and you are everything to me, I’m scared.”
Dropping my bag, I wrap my arms around him, pressing my nose into his chest. “No, you have nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Taking me by my shoulders, he pulls me back, holding me at arm’s length. The look in his eyes hurts. Physically hurts. My heart, it just stops, breaking into pieces before falling into my gut, dissolving away into nothingness. His jaw clenches, the emotion, the pain, apparent on his face. “Avery, I don’t know if I can believe that. The proof is right here.” He brings his phone back out, the conversation on it taunting me.
“I don’t know what that is because I can promise you, my dad did not do that. He never knew and he loved Caleb, still talked to him after everything.”
But Jace shakes his head. “But yet, Caleb claims he quit ’cause of your dad, your family, and they loved him. They don’t know me. I’m nothing to them. So what does that mean for me?”
“It means nothing because all that matters is us. They don’t matter,” I cry, my tears dripping off my jaw. When his hands drop from my shoulders, I start to cry harder because he isn’t taking me into his arms.
“I don’t know if I can believe that, and that’s what scares me, Avery.”
I move my hand along my cheek, catching my tears. Why is this happening? Why is Caleb lying about my family? Why is he still tormenting me? Damn it. As apprehension fills my body, I know what this means. As much as I don’t want to say it, give it voice, I ask, “So, what? You’re breaking up with me?”
I’m surprised when he shrugs. “I don’t know.”
My face scrunches up, my tears coming faster. “You don’t know?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t. I need time to think. So you go, and we’ll talk when you come back.”
“But how does that make sense?” I shriek, my heart hurting. “Either end it or don’t. Don’t drag me along, letting me think the worst.”
“No, don’t do that,” he barks back at me. “Give me time. You’ve lied, you’ve held back shit. The least you can do is give me time to think.”
I shake my head, because I refuse to be walked all over. “If you want me, stay with me. Forgive me because I’ve apologized. Believe I lied, if that’s what you want to call it. But I did it because of what it did to me. I’m telling the truth about my dad. And Caleb is a lying bastard, I can promise you that,” I hiss out, my tears falling into my mouth as I talk. “But if you don’t want me, if I don’t mean enough to you, and you’re too scared to love me because of some lies from people who don’t even matter, then let me go.”
“That’s not fair,” he seethes, his eyes wild. “I need time. I need to sort through this.”
“Sort through what?”
“The truth!” he yells back, and when a tear rolls down his cheek, I’m done.
I shake my head as I look away. “Do you love me, Jace?”
“Yes. You know I do.”
“Then what is the problem?
“I’m scared, Avery. I can’t lose my career.”
It’s like he’s cutting me. Like he’s the one with the blade now.
Closing my eyes, I don’t know why I even ask the next question. I know the answer—I’ve always known it, yet I need to hear it from his lips. “So hockey is more important than me?”
His eyes are angry. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me choose. That’s not right.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Trying to figure out if I’m worth the risk? When there isn’t even a fucking risk because my dad doesn’t fucking care who I am dating!”
“The proof is right here,” he says, holding his phone up. “Your dad does care, and I don’t know what that means for me.”
“What it means is that you are choosing hockey over me.”
“That’s not what I fucking said. I just need some time. Give me some fucking time!”
“Fine, take all the time you need because I’m breaking up with you.”
Fuck, did I really say that? When his eyes widen, I know I did. Instantly, I regret it, but I refuse to let him know that. I won’t be second fucking best.
“What the fuck, Avery?” he yells, but I know I’m doing the right thing.
Or at least, I think I am.
Lifting my bag, I put it on my shoulder and look at him. “I’ve been second fucking best to that sport my whole life, and I won’t be any longer. I love you, Jace, I do. And this hurts more than I can even explain, but there is nothing else to say.” My voice breaks and tears still trickle down my face. I don’t want this. I don’t want to break up. But damn it, I said I wanted more. I want to be important.
I go to walk around him, but he takes me by my arm, stopping me. “There is plenty to fucking say.”
“No, there isn’t.” I pull my arm from his and reach for my car door. “Good luck to you.”
Despite his protests, I get in, slamming the door and starting my car. I ignore when he starts beating on the window, demanding I get out and talk to him. Because I can’t. I can’t do this to me. I matter too much. I hit reverse as he hobbles back from the car, shaking his head. Without even looking at him, I pull away as my heart breaks even more. I don’t know how that happened. I can only ask why.
But I can’t help myself, and I look in the mirror to see him with his hands on his head, his elbows in the air, and tears in his eyes.
And all I can think is…
This is what true heartbreak feels like.