He nods.
“You would have visited me at Dartmouth once or twice and I would have fallen even more in love with you…” My chest collapses as I continue. “But then we would have grown apart as you rose to stardom, the phone calls would become less and less frequent…and then I would have found out that you cheated on me with some gorgeous girl.”
Outrage illuminates his face. “Never.”
Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. “You say that now—”
“I say that always,” he snaps, his tone harsh and his eyes sharp.
If I didn’t know better, I’d believe him. Wholeheartedly.
“You’re a rock star. You have millions of girls ready and more than willing to let you do whatever you want to them on the daily. Maybe not right away, but at some point you’d cave.” I get off the futon. “Which is why I don’t let myself think about what if. Because whether or not you stole my song you still would have obliterated me in the end. Only, the method you ended up choosing was exceptionally brutal. Thanks for that.”
“Lennon—”
“Just stop. Stop lying to yourself. And for fuck’s sake, stop lying to me.” I sweep a hand around. “Trying to recreate how it used to be for our date was sweet, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. You might have gone to my school once because your guilt led you there, but you sure as hell didn’t cry yourself to sleep thinking about me like I did for years whenever I thought about you.”
I walk to the door, so I don’t break down in front of him. “You might be sad for a couple days after I leave, but your heart won’t break like mine did when you left. Because you never loved me.”
And that’s the cold, hard reality of it.
Phoenix Walker doesn’t love me. Not in the past, not now, not even in a pretend world.
Because if he did?
I’d be able to forgive him.
CHAPTER 69
LENNON
I force myself to breathe through the pain as I wait for the tears to subside.
Phoenix must have realized he pushed me past my breaking point because he hasn’t knocked on the door once in the ten minutes I’ve been holed up in his bathroom.
Maybe he thinks I left.
Maybe I should.
I still have a credit card that hasn’t been maxed out yet, so I could call an Uber and crash at a hotel for the night.
Wiping my puffy eyes and mascara streaks with a tissue, I peer at myself in the mirror.
Get it together.
I inhale a few more cleansing breaths, feeling much better now that I have a plan of action.
The only reason I’m still in his atmosphere is because I’m choosing to be.
As of right now, there’s no longer anything holding me hostage aside from my dumb heart.
I need to get out while I still can.
Because my walls aren’t nearly as strong or as high as they used to be.
As they need to be.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn the knob and exit the bathroom, relieved he’s nowhere to be found.
It will make my escape that much easier.
The wood floor creaks under my shoes as I close the door behind me and my gaze drifts to the top-secret room he steered me away from before.
Stubbornness has always been my worst quality, but curiosity comes in a close second.
Whatever’s in that room is none of my business. I know this.
But the longer I stare at it, the stronger the urge to pry becomes.
What other secrets is he keeping?
Skylar once told me that all girls are detectives, and I’d have to unequivocally agree.
However, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
And if someone betrays you and they’re not around to see you snoop, does it give you the right to?
Of course not. Two wrongs don’t make a right…but I can take it up with my conscience later.
I glance around the hall a final time to make sure I’m in the clear before creeping toward the room.
Given it isn’t locked, there must not be a whole lot of skeletons hiding in here.
A twinge of disappointment twists my chest as I push open the door.
The expensive black baby grand piano in the corner is gorgeous, but hardly something to keep a secret.
Talk about a bust.
I’m about to walk out and grab my things, but my stare locks on the pile of papers scattered on top of the piano.
Was he writing something?
Songs?
Anger rises and boils like a cauldron inside me.
Maybe I should pilfer one of his and see how he likes it.
A sickening feeling crawls up my spine, incapacitating me.