2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter thirty-six

•★ Tex ★•

I push my bike into the garage box and close my eyes for a second. I'm so fucking tired. Those couple hours I spent at a sleazy roadside motel didn't help at all. I had much rather driven straight back to L.A., but the tears in my eyes made it unsafe to keep going. However fucked up I feel, I prefer not to be pretzel-wrapped around a palm tree.

My mind has trouble accepting what has happened. She dumped me. After everything we've gone through, she actually dumped me. Okay, it was me who left, but she clearly wanted me to go.

How did we get here? I was ready this time. I wasn't scared of the future—our future. I wanted it all with her. Did I do something wrong? Wasn't I vocal enough about my feelings? Didn't I deliver enough orgasms? I'm pretty sure I did everything right. On the bright side, at least someone loves me.

Misery, that is.

Misery fucking loves me.

Uhg. I take my phone outta my backpack, hoping to find a shitload of missed calls or at least a couple texts. Nothing. Nothing to comfort me. Sure, I told her not to call me, but everyone knows that's a dumb thing angry people say.

Annoyed, I head upstairs to my apartment. Will this rollercoaster ever stop? What a fucking joke I am. Big guy, big dick and big-ass feelings. I suppose I should give Doc a call later. Maybe she can explain to me how Ellie and I managed to fuck everything up for the second time, because I sure as hell don't understand any of it.

When I leave the stairwell and enter the hallway to my front door, I have to suppress the urge to call Ghostbusters. Surely, that huddled up, red-haired, softly weeping girl who's sitting on the concrete floor must be an apparition my desperate mind has conjured and not my alleged ex-girlfriend.

Ellie jumps up when she sees me, eyes big with relief and sorrow. "Tex, you're home. Thank God, I was worried something had happened on the way."

The travel bag by her feet, a clue she's staying the night, brightens my thoughts, but I don't dare to raise my hopes too much. Honestly, I'm kinda taken by surprise. "How the hell did you get here so fast?"

She fumbles with the nylon strap. "I booked a flight almost immediately after you left. It's fair to say I have some explaining to do."

A plane makes sense. There's no other way she could've been here faster than me. Seems she could afford a ticket after all.

Stop being a petty idiot.

Despite her heart-breaking manners, I feel the need to ease her mind. "You could've called me. I would've come back."

"You told me not to." Her pale cheeks are streaked with dried up tears. "Besides, this is not the type of conversation suited for a phone call. I have a few not-so-pretty confessions to make."

I temper my hopeful expectations. The fact that she's here doesn't mean we're gonna be okay. This could still be the beginning of the end. To avoid that possibility, I ask, "Why didn't you wait inside? You still got the key, right?"

Her eyes dart away. "Yes, I do."

Why so evasive? I asked two questions and she only answered one. I don't confront her with it and open the door instead, signaling her with a wave of the arm to get in.

Hesitantly, she walks through the door, straight up to the living room. I follow her after carrying our bags inside and hanging my jacket on the coat rack.

She just stands there, eyes down and body completely rigid. The hell is she doing? Crossed-armed, I lean against the wall and let out a snappy-sounding half-joke. "If you only came here to look at the floor, I could've sent you a picture."