A Dose of Pretty Poison: Chapter 28

I used to think heartbreak was a myth. That it was just intense sadness, comparative to depression. But as I watched her drive away that day, leaving me behind in her rearview mirror, I was proven wrong. I felt every last excruciating second of it.

I almost changed my mind. At the very last second, as she drove herself right out of my life, I called her name with every intention of taking it back. But the brake lights never came on, and not a single part of me blamed her for it.

The first few days are excruciating. I force myself through the motions, going to work and hockey practice, but I’m miserable. I try to make it look like everything is okay. I’m sure Laiken is anything but fine, and if Cam sees the same on me, he’ll put the pieces together. Especially since I had talked to him about her the same day.

With only one of us being allowed to show emotion, it goes to her.

After all, I’m the one that did this.

I should regret getting involved with her. It’s not like I didn’t know everything was going to end up this way. I may not have known I’d be this torn up over it, or that it would end prematurely because of some pompous ass with a death wish—but I knew I was going to break her heart.

And yet, I can’t seem to regret the time we spent together. She taught me that I’m not some hopeless piece of shit. That it’s possible for me to feel something real for someone. I wouldn’t trade the time we spent wrapped up in each other for anything.

EACH SECOND FEELS LIKE an eternity as I sit at work. It seems like every single thing I do has a way of reminding me of Laiken. If I sit at the computer, I remember her licking and slurping that ice cream cone, just to torture me. If I see the nautical mural that’s painted on the wall, it reminds us of the time we spent on the beach. And If I look out the window, I see the ocean and remember when we went from here to the beach.

That day, I got the scare of a lifetime. The moment I noticed she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, I knew it was bad. And when she went under, a part of me died inside. The whole time I swam toward her, I thought about how people drown all the time. I never would have forgiven myself if something happened to her that day.

I never would have been the same.

For the hundredth time today alone, I grab my phone and go to text her—like a bad habit I can’t seem to quit. I’m so used to her filling my day with random commentary that its absence feels isolating. But as I open our message, I see the last two texts and feel the ache all over again.

A few hours after she left me standing by the statue, I tried texting her, telling her I was really sorry and that I never meant to hurt her. But all I got back was a thumbs up. No words. No real response. Just a thumbs up. And somehow, that stung worse than no reply at all.

If she hadn’t responded, I could at least pretend she never saw it. Convince myself that she turned her phone off when she left or something. But I can’t, because the single emoji she sent back basically glares at me from the screen.

Having to guess, I’d bet that was Mali’s doing. Laiken would refuse to even open the text, the same way she refused to stop when I called her name. So, it wouldn’t surprise me if Mali saw my messages and responded so I would stop texting her. It doesn’t matter that I consider her a friend. Her priority will always be Laiken, and I respect it, but that doesn’t make it easy.

None of this is easy.

IT’S SELFISH, I KNOW, but I need to get my eyes on her. Even if it’s just a glimpse. Even if it’s just in passing. I need to see that she’s okay. That she’s breathing. That I didn’t destroy her the way I always knew I would.

It’s been a week and a half since I broke both of our hearts. I thought at some point I would see her at the rink, as she ended work and hockey practice began. But not only have I not seen her—there’s no trace of her being there at all.

I even went early one day, when she should have been right in the middle of her shift. I planned on going in and staying out of sight while she worked, just so I could see her smile once more. But she wasn’t there, and when I asked one of the parents Devin babysits for, she said that Laiken hasn’t been there in a week.

That was a few days ago, which lines up directly with when I ended things between us.

She’s avoiding me, the same way I avoided her when I was trying to do the right thing. Only, instead of coming to work late or leaving early to dodge a run in, she’s not going to work at all. It’s a surefire way to make sure we don’t cross paths, and the message is clear—she doesn’t want to see me.

So tell me why I’m pulling up to the Blanchard’s, feeling more relieved than I should that Laiken’s car is parked in the same spot it always is. It’s not like I’m showing up unexpectedly. Cam invited me over, the same way he does all the time. And I could easily use the excuse that I couldn’t turn him down any longer without something seeming off. But as I walk in the front door, it doesn’t look like she’s here at all.

There’s no laptop set up on the kitchen island.

No music blasting from her bedroom.

The only sound I hear is Cam’s voice as he yells obscenities at whatever video game he’s currently playing.

As I make my way up to his room, I glance up the second set of steps that leads to Laiken’s. At the top, I see her door wide open, which can only mean one thing—she’s not home.

My heart sinks. Why is it that when I try to avoid her, she manages to track my ass down at a place I hadn’t gone to in years, but when she avoids me, she’s nowhere to be found?

Because you don’t deserve to see her, my subconscious tells me.

I drop my head because it’s true. I don’t even deserve to breathe the same damn air as her right now. But I can’t help it. I’m drawn to her—like a force pulling me toward her—and I’m not strong enough to stay away.

I never have been.

“Hey shithead,” Cam greets me as I walk in.

Intentionally leaving his bedroom door open, I go over to sit on his bed. “Are the insults really necessary?”

He chuckles. “Does it help if you’re my favorite shithead?”

“Not really, no,” I say, faking a smile.

I get up and grab the other controller, while Cam nods toward the door. “Can you shut that?”

Shit. “No. It’s fucking hot in here. Besides, it doesn’t seem like anyone else is home anyway.”

“Oh, okay.” He puts the controller down and stands up. “I didn’t realize they left already. In that case, let’s go use the better TV downstairs.”

They. It’s so vague, and I can’t resist the urge to dig deeper as I follow him downstairs. “Where’d they go?”

“My parents?” He shrugs. “Out to dinner with a few friends, I think. I don’t really pay attention when they tell me things about their social life.”

Well, that attempt was a bust. And I’m not ballsy enough to ask him where she is. So instead, I sit on the couch, take the controller Cam passes me, and hope she walks through the door at some point.

I RUB MY HANDS over my face as Cam wins the fifth game in a row. On a normal day, I would be kicking his ass. But I’m too distracted. Too busy anticipating the front door opening and Laiken walking through it.

“You good, dude?” Cam asks.

I nod, stretching my arms above my head. “Yeah, just tired. I’ve been sleeping like shit lately.”

I don’t tell him that it’s because his sister haunts me at night, or that I wake up in the middle of dreaming about her, only to be slapped in the face by reality.

He hums. “Sounds like you need a beer.”

More like a shot. “Actually, I think I’m going to get going.”

“Well, do you mind getting me a beer before you go?” he asks.

I chuckle genuinely for the first time in a week and a half. “Oh, so that was your motive. You were using me as a gopher.”

“I was going to let you have one.”

Flipping him off, I get up and grab a beer out of the fridge, but on my way back from the kitchen, my angle provides me with a clear view out the window. My breath hitches as I see Laiken standing there, talking to Mali…and fucking Monty.

Son of a bitch.

“Is that the same dude from Laiken and Mali’s party?” I question, handing Cam his beer.

He glances out the window as he cracks it open. “Yep. Looks like it.”

“I didn’t realize he was still coming around.” I watch her out the window, but she has her back to me, so I can’t see her face.

“They’ve been hanging out a decent bit the last week or so.”

Of course they have. That was his goal, wasn’t it? To force me right out of the picture so he could take my place?

I snort. “I’m sure that’s been fun. That guy seems like a tool.”

Cam nods in agreement as he puts the can on the coffee table. “He is. He even tried asking me about joining the hockey team, but I told him we’re full.”

Damn, he really does have a death wish. Thankfully, Cam dislikes him almost as much as I do. And without either of our approval, he’ll never see the inside of the locker room, let alone put on a uniform.

“What’s up with the rich kids and thinking they’re skilled at everything? Does he even know how to skate?”

“Who knows,” he says then shrugs. “I didn’t care to ask.”

The fact that he’s been hanging around Laiken grinds on my nerves. I’ve been doing nothing but missing her, thinking about her constantly and wishing she were with me, and he’s been basking in the destruction he made. If I don’t get the fuck out of here, I’m going to end up in jail.

My mugshot on the front page while the headline reads Man Arrested For Hospitalizing Senator’s Son.

The media would spin it into something political. My hockey coach would lecture me on my anger issues. And Monty would get Laiken to come to visit him in the hospital, playing the victim card before they ride off into the sunset together.

It’s just best if I leave.

Saying goodbye to Cam, I head out the front door and Mali’s eyes immediately land on me. Laiken must notice she’s looking past her, because she turns around and her gaze locks with mine. I walk toward my truck as her breath hitches.

She looks good. A lot better than I feel. And I realize that seeing her when I can’t pull her into my arms is like putting a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. Only an idiot would think it’s a good idea.

After a second, Laiken’s shoulders sag, and she forces herself to look away. I clench my jaw as I watch Monty put his hand on her arm, rubbing his thumb over her skin and quietly asking if she’s okay. As if he wasn’t the one who did this.

If he hadn’t blackmailed me, we’d still be together.

We’d still be happy.

Fucking piece of shit.

Hopping into my truck, I grip the steering wheel tightly before peeling out of there. My tires screech on the pavement as I pull away, and Cam probably notices, but right now I simply don’t give a shit.

If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to run him the fuck over.

I PULL UP TO the place that could very easily become my funeral. All night, the image of Monty with his hand on Laiken was in my head. Every time I close my eyes, it’s right there—taunting me with the fact that he gets to spend time with her while I don’t. He gets to see the way her eyes light up when she laughs and listen to her talk about all the kids in her skating lesson.

He gets all the parts of her that were mine not too long ago, but I need to know how deep it runs. And there’s only one person who can tell me the answer.

I open the door to Wrapped in Lace, a little boutique downtown. Honestly, I’ve never been in here, but I don’t get a chance to look around before I hear the voice of the person I’m looking for.

And she does not sound happy.

“Oh, hell no,” Mali growls.

Whipping my head toward her, I can confidently say that judging by the look on her face, I’m the furthest thing from her favorite person right now.

“You need to leave,” she demands as she stomps closer.

I raise my hands in defense. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?” She cocks a brow at me. “About how you’re an asshole? About how you broke my best friend’s heart? About how you play games without taking other people’s feelings into consideration?”

Yikes. “All of the above?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “No. I am not discussing Laiken with you.”

“That’s fine,” I tell her, expecting that answer. “I’m talking about Monty. What’s up with him lately? Is he seeing anyone?”

A smirk appears on her face. “He’s hardly your type.”

“Mali.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re the one that ended things. It’s not fair to her.”

For the first time, I let a little bit of vulnerability show. “You know I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate.”

Her gaze bores into me, like it’s trying to see into my soul. It’s intense and unwavering, until finally, she sighs.

“Fine. You get three questions.”

Thank God. “Is she okay?”

Her lips purse as she raises her brows. “Wow. That’s not what I thought it would be.”

It’s honestly the only thing I care about. I’ve been walking around blind lately. She doesn’t come anywhere near me so I can’t read her emotions on her face. I can’t ask Cam about it, and even if I did, he probably wouldn’t know. And when I asked Devin, she gave me some lecture about how I’m an idiot and she’s Switzerland—a neutral party or some shit.

Running her fingers through her hair, she thinks about it for a second. “Honestly? No. She’s existing, and she’s trying to be okay, but she’s not. She had her heart broken by the guy she’s liked for years. It’s going to take a little longer than a couple weeks to recover from that.”

It hurts, knowing she’s struggling the same way I am, if not more. And it hurts even more knowing I caused it.

“Next question,” she tells me.

“Is she dating and/or hooking up with Monty?” It’s the one question I’m afraid of the answer to, but I know I need to ask it.

Mali chuckles, looking so smug. “Not knowing that is killing you, isn’t it? Your possessiveness knows no bounds, Wilder.”

“Please,” I press.

“No,” she answers. “They’re just friends. Last question.”

I swallow, realizing there’s another one that scares me even more. “Does she hate me?”

She hums, looking to the side for a second as if it’s comical in the fucked-up kind of way. “She should.” She pauses, and her eyes meet mine again. “But no, she doesn’t. I’m not really sure she’s even capable of hating you.”

That’s a relief. I mean, if she did, I wouldn’t blame her. She has every right to hate me. But it’s still nice to know she doesn’t.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t hate you, though,” she continues. “Now get out of my store before I call security.”

I smile sadly, thanking her as I turn around, but just as my hand reaches the doorknob, I see a mannequin wearing the same lace bra and panty set that Laiken wore our first night together. I spin back around, a newfound supply of hope rushing through me.

“One more,” I request.

“No.”

I ask it anyway. “Is it fixable?”

Her eyes close for a second as she exhales. “I don’t know. But I do know that she deserves a lot better than being played with and strung along, so if you’re just going to treat her like your personal sex toy and make me want to kick your ass even more, I’d strongly advise against it.”

“And if I’m not?” I press her further. “If I’m serious that she’s what I want?”

She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag. “That’s not for me to answer.”

I nod slowly and drop my head as I go to leave.

“And H?” I stop. “If you really think she would move on that quickly, you need to pay closer attention.”

I’m not sure what it is about that statement, but it breathes life into me. There are a lot of things I don’t know, one of those being if I’m good enough for her, or if I even can be. But I do know that the moment she drove away, she took a part of me with her.

I walk out of Wrapped in Lace and take out my phone, typing out the first text I’ve sent her in over a week.

Pressing send, I feel like I might vomit all over the sidewalk, but I can’t just stand around and watch Monty try to steal my girl. If he wants her like I think he does, he won’t do anything to piss her off—which includes telling Cam about us. But even if he does, if this idea backfires in my face, it’ll be worth it because I’ll have her.

It’s time to lay my feelings on the line.

It’s time to win back my girl.