Wicked in Love

Chapter 10 - my biggest lie

Excitement coursed through me. And against my will, I wanted to come closer.

I didn't. 

"She's no one," he said.

I curled my lip. "Did you hammer a nail in her wall?"

"Are you asking if I fucked anyone else after you?"

Yes.

"I don't care if you—" please say no "—fucked the whole campus. I don't care."

He looked down, hiding his eyes from me. His hair, as dark as a crow's feather, was still unbound and slid down silkily on his face. He raised his arms, ran his fingers through his hair, pushed it back with both hands and kept them behind his head. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at me.

"You want to get your things, now's your chance."

"Where are you going?"

Without answering, he turned and walked away in the direction of the den. I assumed he'd take a shower in the guest bathroom. He'd always leave the master bathroom free for me to use.

He'd walked away again. This was one of the things he usually did when we were both angry, and I was provoking him to lose his mind. I'd rather fight it out then move on and forget about it. He'd rather keep it in, try to control the situation by controlling himself, and forget about it.

I was tempted to go after him but stopped myself. I knew why I was here and what I needed to do, and it wasn't talking.

Gathering my courage, I faced the living room. And felt like crying. Everything was the same.

I walked around the room, touching old and familiar things. The lamp we picked up at a yard sale, the blanket I got for him because he preferred sleeping on the couch at night when I wasn't around, the coffee mug he got for me that was as big as a soup bowl.

The string of photos of us we'd hung on the wall—one of them was taken by Dylan on Christmas Eve. I was practicing cooking when Cameron showed up with presents. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I stared at the photo, chaos in my chest. I grabbed it and placed it in my pocket. I would burn it later.

In the master bathroom, my toothbrush was still with his in the holder. My facewash, face cream, hairbrush, and hair dryer on his bathroom counter. All arranged neatly. I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat and gathered all of them in my arms.

In his walk-in closet, all my clothes were still there as well. How could he live like this after the way he broke us apart? It was like he hadn't moved on at all.

Was he just lazy that he couldn't be bothered to discard all my things? But Cameron had never been lazy.

It doesn't matter. Get your shit and leave. You're not his therapist. You don't need to understand. Think about that closure you're looking for.

Wound up, I looked up and found my favourite pair of shoes. I had stored them on the highest shelf to protect them and only wore them on special occasions. Of course, since he had them for a while, that hadn't been possible.

Feeling bitter, I raised onto my tiptoes and reached for them, but they were too high. I usually called him to get them for me. Being a giant, he didn't need a ladder.

There was no way I'd call him for help. Grunting at the effort, I pulled whatever I could reach and bit back a scream when something fell. A black box and it contents spilled on the floor.

"Damn, damn, damn."

Already feeling overwhelmed, I crouched and blindly picked up the items and put them back in the box. I remembered snooping at his stuff when I first came to his place a long time ago. I'd seen this box before and had wondered why he had all these things.