Lost Stars (The Jewel Project #3)

15.2|| Broken Pieces

Tom paced the length of his room, his head throbbing, heart aching. Angie's words kept spinning inside his head.

I'm your girlfriend.

It should've felt like he'd hit the jackpot because he'd be an idiot not to realize he was madly in love with her. Madly being the operative word. It wasn't just attraction, it was hating to see her cry, wanting her to be happy, loving it every time she smiled or laughed. It was doing everything in his power to keep her safe.

Except she'd lied to him. She was supposed to know him. Know how much he hated playing games like that. He had no idea who he was and she felt like hiding more things for him, as if remembering almost nothing wasn't enough. As if his body losing control wasn't enough.

When he'd kissed her, for a second it felt like none of that mattered. Because he had her and she was his life and he could spend the rest of all eternity in her arms without needing memories. And when he'd pulled away and seen the longing in her eyes, he'd decided that there was no point fighting it. Girlfriend or not, he loved her.

She'd lied.

And why couldn't he get over it?

A knock on the door stopped him in his tracks.

"Tom?" Angie's weak voice came from the other side.

He walked to the door, his throat constricted, but didn't open it. He couldn't because he didn't know what to say, and he sure as hell didn't want to hurt her, but he hadn't forgiven her. He wasn't sure he could or would or had to.

"I don't even know if you're in there, but I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have lied to you."

"No kidding, babe," he mumbled, resting his forehead against the door.

"This has all been just so hard on me. You have no idea how rocky our relationship has been and it's just... don't get me wrong. You're worth it. We're totally worth it. But I just can't..." Her voice faded and the sound of weak sobs filled the air.

The sound also came from lower and lower. Tom followed it, dropping to his knees, his hands against the door, yearning to touch her, to make everything go away.

"Don't cry, baby, it will be alright," he whispered. He should be saying this out loud, but he couldn't. His windpipe had shut tightly. He should open the door, but his hands were numb.

"Anyway," Angie said, sniffing. "I hope you'll forgive me. I promise I didn't lie to you about anything else and that I'll never lie to you again. I know you hate it. It was just... I couldn't stand the rejection. After thinking you were dead, it would've literally killed me."

Open the door. Open it, damn it! He couldn't. He just stuck his cheek against it, seething both at himself for being so stubborn and at her for making this so complicated, so hard.

"I'm going out for a bit. I—I'll talk to you later."

He didn't hear her getting up. He could practically feel the heat of her body coming through the thin wood of the door. He pressed himself against it, his heart beating in a weird rhythm as he tried to make sense of his stupid personality. The old him was huffy and didn't want to open the door because Angie was right and their relationship was hard enough without her making it harder.

But the new him didn't remember that. The new him just loved her. And the knot in his chest, the feeling that something was wrong when he saw her had disappeared the moment he'd kissed her. Because what had been wrong was him refusing to let go of some past he couldn't remember. In the split second in which he'd decided to give in and kiss her, he'd thrown all that away.