Page 72 of Never Enough
I think what hurts the most is that Mom was right. He’ll never love me. No one will. Just how I couldn’t make my own mother love me, I can’t make the man I love either.
The emptiness of the room suffocates me, and I curl into myself, arms wrapped around my knees. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the world, but all I see is him, Alex, and the agony of his absence tears through me like a blade, leaving me bleeding out on the floor of this loveless cage I’ve built around myself.
Chapter twenty-eight
Alex
The calendar says it’s been four days since Daphne broke up with me, or 345,600 seconds. I’ve felt each and every one of those seconds too.
Somehow, I’ve managed to fill my lungs with air purely for survival during those seconds. Don’t know how, though. Each breath feels like suffocation. Only, instead of dying, I’m forced to become a living corpse.
Unexpectedly, the pounding on my door shatters the silence, jolting me from a chaos of restless sleep. Heart hammering against my ribcage, I stumble out of bed, half hoping, half dreading that it’s Daphne on the other side. The chilled air of the room raises goosebumps on my bare skin as I make my way to the door, the floor cold beneath my feet.
“Please be her,” I mutter to myself, grasping the doorknob with a sense of urgency that borders on desperation. But as I yank the door open, my heart sinks—instead of Daphne’s haunting hazeleyes, it’s Celeste’s artificially enhanced gaze that meets mine. Disappointment curdles in my stomach, sour and heavy.
“Not now, Celeste,” I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. “Just go away.”
The coffin’s threat is always there. It’s always buried beneath my feet, threatening to drag me through the dirt to trap me inside. It’s never completely gone.
Over the years, I’ve pushed the thoughts aside by avoiding the pain. Sitting with emotions isn’t good for me. So, naturally, I’ve coped by indulging in sex and partying until my dick wanted to fall off. On the inside, my self-deprecating thoughts never stop, but on the outside, I’m the cool, popular guy. It’s easier to shove them aside when I’m never alone.
Losing my soulmate has reopened those wounds. It’s like I’ve bandaged the wounds from high school but never fully healed them. Thus, having Daphne and then losing her reopened the skin wound, and now I’m bleeding all over the place.
Celeste doesn’t take the hint after I tell her to leave. Instead, with a huff of indignation, she shoves past me, her expensive perfume invading my space, cloying and unwelcome. The scent alone is enough to make me want to gag, but I swallow back the bile that threatens to rise in my throat.
Celeste leans in, her voice dripping with faux concern. “People are talking, you know. It’s not good for your reputation.” A flicker of annoyance crosses her face. “Or mine.”
I can’t help but smirk. “I’m not worried about my reputation, and yours is just fine.”
Celeste’s expression hardens at my unaffected presentation. “It’s not just about reputation. It’s about us.”
“Us?” I echo, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “There is no us. We broke up and, honestly Celeste, I’m getting tired of repeating it.”
Her eyes narrow. “Is this because you’re too afraid to commit?”
I feel a surge of anger. We’ve been over this again and again. Even Victoria has accepted our breakup at this point. All this time, I hurt Daph by protecting Celeste when I should have been blunt to begin with. “No, it’s because I don’t love you.” There, I said it.
Funny, getting back with Celeste may satisfy the voices enough to at least dull the depression, but I can’t do it. I love Daphne and would rather remain depressed than remain apart from her.
I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to shove Celeste back out the door. The very thought of being with her again makes my skin crawl; every fiber of my being screams in rejection.
“Listen to me, Celeste,” I start, low and controlled, my voice barely hiding the tempest raging within. “I don’t care about gossip or appearances. We’re done. Finished. There’s no us to talk about.Leave me alone. I appreciate all you’ve done for me over the years, but it’s over.”
Her expression falters for a moment, but she quickly masks it with a practiced smile, though I can see the fury simmering behind her eyes. She steps closer, too close, her presence an oppressive force that I can no longer tolerate.
“Think about your reputation, Alex,” she hisses, her voice laced with venom. “You don’t want people thinking less of you, do you? Let me make it very clear what I mean. Your s-s-stutter.”
She’s hitting all my triggers, and it’s only pissing me off. How dare she make fun of my stutter like that! “Fu-fuck that,” I spit back, the words slicing through the tension between us. “I’m not going to pretend to love someone I don’t, not e-even for you.”
Celeste’s face contorts into a mask of scorn, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. For a fleeting moment, I feel a pang of guilt for being so harsh. But then I remember how she intentionally triggered my stuttering and made fun of me for it. Just like that, the guilt evaporates.
Her eyes flash, a stormy sea of anger swirling within them. The air between us crackles with tension, heavy and suffocating. Celeste’s lips part as if to speak, but the words seem to falter on her tongue. She stands there, her chest rising and falling in rapidsuccession, the opulence of her fur coat at odds with the vulnerability I see peeking through her mask of fury.
“You can’t be serious!” Her voice is a whip, cracking against the silence of my apartment. “After everything?”
“Especially a-after everything,” I reply, my resolve hardening. The taste of freedom is bittersweet on my tongue, but it’s what I crave—what I need. “I d-don’t love you, Celeste. It’s t-time for you to accept th-that.” I’d rather be a depressed dweeb doing what he loves than a depressed jock doing what he hates.
Something breaks in her gaze, something fragile and unspoken, but then she blinks and it’s gone. “Fine,” she snaps, her eyes glinting with malice. “But you’ll regret this, Alexandru Whitmore. Everyone will see how you’re just a nerdy little stuttering loser.”