Worth It

Chapter Seventeen

Gabriel

Opal: You're seriously not going to show up and say goodbye?

Xavier: Gabe, where are you?

Opal: You're a dick.

Xavier: Dude, what the fuck happened between you two?

Opal: Ignore us all you want, but we know where you live, and I still have my key.

I ignored every text message and call that came my way. I put my phone down and had to refrain from slamming it into the wall.

After yesterday's fucked up night with her stupid ex rolling in and ruining our night, I wasn't in the mood for anything or anyone. I knew she had exes. We both fucking had exes.

We were both once in serious relationships, and we didn't owe each other explanations if we ever decided to date again. That was the rational part. That was the sane reasoning.

Thing is, fuck rationality and fuck sanity. I was losing my goddamn fucking mind. He really just fucking strolled up, professed his love to her, and called her a stupid nickname.

He even touched her, reached for her, and kissed her hand and cheek in front of me. As if I wasn't even there. We weren't dating, but I didn't want her to date anyone else.

I couldn't get over how flushed she looked when he approached us or the tremble in her voice when she told him she didn't think it would be a good idea.

Think? She had to fucking think about it. Jesus fucking Christ, I was utterly the most pathetic person to walk this Earth.

She left for Paris, and I didn't even show up to wish her luck, see her face, or hug her goodbye. I doubt she ever wanted to see me again, not with how I screamed at her like some lunatic.

I couldn't believe how I spoke to her, how I raised my voice at her, and despite how she screamed back, I couldn't get her face out of my mind.

She looked so heartbroken and scared and shaky. I didn't have the right to be so angry, and I should have been able to control my emotions better than that. I should have never exploded in her face like how I did.

Of course, he'd want her back, fuck, look at her. I wanted her, too. I wanted to hold her hand and brush my lips against hers. I wanted her to be mine and to confess how I felt for her.

I wanted to fucking scream it at the top of my lungs. I wanted the world to know that she had me so fucking deep down the love hole and that I never wanted to climb out of it. I wanted to be there, stuck and lost in the deep chasm of love for Katarina.

I don't hate him, Gabriel. I just stopped loving him. There's a difference. We broke up amicably.

She doesn't hate him. She just stopped loving him. Was there a difference? If there was, I wasn't seeing it. All I heard was that they didn't break up because they hated each other.

Which meant he didn't hurt her; she just drifted apart from him. For some reason, that felt worse. Like if she was to be in his company again, she might fall back in love with him.

I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to believe that she'd ever get back with him.

The healthy thing to do was to cut off ties with Kat and focus on my mental health, to be free of this hold she had on me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I never wanted to be free of her, even right now, when we weren't talking; I missed her so fucking much it hurt to breathe. She hadn't called or texted me, and I hadn't reached out either.