[BOOK2]
Friendship built their world. Love will break it open. ❤️
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lo...
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I heard everything.
I was on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, back pressed against the door like it could hold me together. Like it could keep the pieces from falling apart. It didn't.
Not when his voice cracked through the wood. Not when he called me Luna. Not when he said he'd still be mine—even if I broke him.
I clutched the edge of my blanket like it might stop the sobs threatening to claw their way out of my chest. It didn't. They still came. Raw. Choked. Gut-wrenching.
Becca didn't know I was here. She thought I was curled under the covers, pretending to sleep. But I'd been here the whole time—on the other side of every word that shattered him.
And God, I wanted to open the door. I wanted to throw it wide and fall into his arms, bury myself in the only place that's ever felt like home.
But I didn't.
Because I couldn't.
Because if I did, I'd undo everything I broke myself to do. And that would make this pain meaningless.
When he said I broke the only part of him that ever felt whole, I broke again.
Almost reaching for the handle to open the door removing the obstacle between us, so I can fall into his arms and tell him this was a stupid mistake and beg him to forgive.
Almost.
When the hallway finally fell silent, I stayed there. Long after his footsteps faded. Long after Becca's quiet sniffles filled the air.
And when I finally opened the door, he was gone.
I collapsed onto my bedroom floor, the pain too much to carry alone.
Becca turned, startled. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but when she saw my face—wrecked and drowning—she dropped to her knees beside me.
"You heard him," she whispered.
I nodded, face buried in my arms, barely able to breathe.
"I can't..." My voice cracked. "I can't breathe. I feel like I'm dying."
She wrapped her arms around me, holding me like she could anchor me to the earth. "I know, Isa. I know."
And she did.
And it was killing her, too.
"I should've stopped you," she said, voice raw. "I should've made you tell him."
"He wouldn't have believed it," I whispered, hollow and broken. "Or worse... he would've tried to fix it. And Jake would've destroyed him anyway."
We stayed like that for what felt like forever—two girls trying to hold the pieces together when the world had ripped everything apart.
