Defamed: Book Three (bxb) ✔️

Chapter Three: Unwelcome

Cameron Windsor

My fingers swayed against the pages of the notebook in my hand. I clutched it to my chest, knowing damn well it was a bad idea to tuck it into my suitcase. I dropped the notebook into my lap and ran my fingers over the soft material. On it was a gold moon, surrounded by stars—the book was a dark blue. Midnight blue. Inside held a lot of moments from a relationship I didn't have anymore.

I knew it wasn't healthy to keep this book—I was the last one to have it. Between the pages, every single piece of paper was filled except for two. We never had the chance to fill it up completely. And I haven't been able to bring myself to read what was between the pages. But I had them all practically memorized, so it didn't matter.

Still, I reached over to the pocket on the side of my suitcase and tucked it carefully inside. My heart still spoke of the love I held for Asher. My brain was screaming at me to stop this nonsense. Sometimes my brain won, and others, my heart did.

It wasn't as if Asher was going to go through my things. There was hardly any risk. Only my heart was on the line. Living in the same space as someone I was supposed to share my life with wasn't going to be easy. I have no idea why Asher agreed. Not after what he believed I'd done to him.

After what I had done to him.

I still let him believe a lie once I found out the truth. My therapist would argue that I was afraid, and maybe he was right. I was afraid of what the truth would do to him, and I hoped he didn't put it together when the media ran the story. But I knew that was wishful thinking. All I needed to do was bide my time until I told my brothers—until the world found out about what happened to me.

My anxiety silenced me from telling him the truth myself. One story against another. It sounded like I was trying to excuse my actions. I wasn't sure how he would react, and I also knew that I wouldn't be able to handle either direction he would take it.

Come what may.

I'd deal with it as it presented itself.

I climbed off my bed and zipped up my suitcase. My brothers left this morning, and I told them I'd go over to meet Asher once I'd gotten up. I promised them I'd go. Eventually, they would loosen the reins. But I had to prove I deserved to have them loosened.

Asher left the key card to his apartment last night—and the code to get into his building. It was a bold move to trust me with this information, I suppose. But I still swiped the black card with the gold logo from the table and carried my suitcase with me as I walked out of the door.

I didn't drive much—but I needed a quick means of escape in case this entire situation went sideways. And it was going to go sideways. Asher and I have gotten into quite a few heated discussions, and if the scavenger hunt was anything to go by, Asher no longer put up with my bullshit. The way I acted was a defense mechanism to keep him even further away than he already was, but realistically, I knew I didn't need to have it in place. 

As long as Asher believed I cheated on him, there was no breaking through to him.

And honestly, it was the last thing I wanted.

Not everyone needed to feel the full extent of the pain I caused. I tried to end my life. Asher was there, and I haven't heard him say a word about it. His love for me died the moment I told him I cheated on him. The love he used to wear for only me to see wasn't there anymore. I only had myself to blame.

By the time I arrived at Asher's apartment, I was going over the techniques in my head so I didn't have a panic attack. I was lucky to have therapy in a couple of hours. It was a means to escape whatever torture I was about to endure next. Facing Asher was never easy. There was a reason as to why I avoided him during social events. Plus, social events gave me anxiety to an extreme. For a good reason. Though you'd think I learned my lesson, but I used to get shit-faced every time I went. But I always stayed with my glass and never left it anywhere.