The War on Love

Chapter 16

It was a Tuesday morning. Thomas is in the shower like he usually is at this time.

I'm sitting in the couch, playing games on his phone. What? He has better games!

His phone buzzes slightly in my hand. A text message. I didn't mean to look. I just accidentally swiped. I was from his manager anyway. No big deal.

Boy, was I wrong. Within the green bubble on the screen white letters spelled out, "You can cut the publicity stunt. She's not needed anymore." Publicity stunt? That's all I was to him? How many of our conversations had been real? How many of our conversations were him actually taking a better interest in me? How long has this even been going on? How long was I just being used to raise his likability?

A pair of hands on my shoulders snaps me to my senses. "Love? Are you- What is that?" Thomas asks.

"A text from your manager," I growl.

He furrows his eyebrows, obviously not knowing what had me so worked up. Then, he looks at his screen, at the words, and, finally, at me as my hand trembles. His mouth forms an 'o' shape. "Love-"

"No. Don't 'Love' me! How long has this been going on? The whole time we've been dating?" I snap. I'm on my feet now, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

He just simply looks at his feet, not daring to answer my question. "It has, hasn't it?" I ask in disbelief.

He nods meekly in response. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, so, you think sorry makes this all okay? We're done," I order.

"No. Emmalyn, maybe that's what it was at first! It's not anymore! I mean it when I say that I love you!"

"Yeah, well, I did too, Thomas. This has been going on for five months!"

"Would it have been different if I had told you what had been going on earlier?"

"Let's just say, your chances of keeping me around would have been 25% better," I say, walking off towards the guest room. I grab his suitcase and place it on the bed.

"How good are my chances?" He asks from the doorway.

I glare at him as I fold up a pair of jeans and throw them in the suitcase. "Take a guess."

"90%?" He asks hopefully.

"Not even close," I growl, tossing shirt after shirt in the suitcase.

"It's 0%, isn't it?"

"Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!"

"Can my prize be you letting me stay and fix this?" He asks, grabbing my wrist.

I pull loose and sit on top of his suitcase. "Nope. Your prize is a one-way ticket home!" I yell as I struggle with the zipper.

"But, love, my home is wherever you are! Haven't you ever heard the expression 'Home is where the heart is'? My heart is here, Emmalyn! It's here with you!"

"Why are you fighting so hard for a publicity stunt?"

"Because, I love you, Emmalyn! You're supposed to be mine forever."

"Uh, I'm not supposed to be anyones," I argue.

"I was in love with you and I let you go. Love, you came back to me making you mine for eternity," he mumbles, intertwining his fingers with mine, leaning in to kiss me lightly.

I squirm away before his lips make contact. I detangle my fingers from his and stand. I tug the suitcase from the bed, extending the handle. "I don't care. I trusted you, Thomas!"

"I'm sorry! Please, don't do this," he pleads, tears forming in his eyes. "I had nothing to do with this! It was all my managers idea!"

"But you went along with it. It didn't have to be your idea! You still did it thinking that I wouldn't find out!"

"Emmalyn, please!"

"Go back to London, Thomas. Never talk to me again," I order, pushing him down the hall with his suitcase.

"I don't want to go anywhere without you, Emmalyn!" He chokes out, silent tears ricocheting down his cheeks.

"Whatever, Thomas. We're done. It's over," I say, shutting the door in his face. I twist the lock and slide down the door. I bury my face in my hand.

This is all for the best. He was too good for me anyway. Besides, we were most likely going to break it off eventually anyway. This IS for the best, isn't it?

*Thomas's POV*

D-did that seriously just happen? I think so...

I pull my phone from my pocket. 'Thank you for ruining my life,' I text my manager angrily.

M: ??

T: She broke up with me!

M: Good. You didn't need her anyway.

T: This is your fault!

M: er... Why?

T: This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't have called her a bloody publicity stunt!

M: That's all she was Thomas

T: Maybe to you! Whatever. You're fired.

I pocket my phone and knock on her door. "Emmalyn?" I call.

"What the hell did I just say!? Leave! I don't want you around! I don't need you anymore!" She shouts from the other side of the door.

My jaw drops. I sigh as I lower my hand. She didn't need me. If she didn't need me then I don't need her. Simple as that.

I groan. That's a lie. That is a total lie. I can say I don't need her but a nagging voice in my head keeps shouting, "Yes, you do, you bloody idiot!"

I call for a taxi to take me to a hotel until I can get a flight back to London. I had really hoped this wouldn't have been the end. I had hoped that one day, maybe, things would take a step forward. I had hoped for a happy ending with this girl. I was a fool for thinking everything would be okay, that I could have a happy ending like in fairy tales. But, my life isn't a fairy tale, now is it?

A/N: So, in thanks for all the reads and comments and votes I decided to rip your hearts out! You're welcome guys =} I don't really have much to say so: Comment/vote/follow! Tell me what you think, please! -med_01