Olivia Westerfield discovered the love of her life when she least expected it. But when her love, Grey Wyler, discovers her dark secret, she loses him and half her heart. Just when she thinks she'll never see him after months pass, he re-enters her...
"Grey!" I scream his name on the top of my lungs and chase after him. I watch his back muscles constrict and his hands ball into fists at my voice. A sharp pain ripples through me like a furious wave passing through me. It's until I am on the floor crying in pain when I realize it wasn't just seeing the vile reaction I caused him, but actual physical pain. But it will never mount to the fiery sensation that is holding my chest hostage.
I look down at my bleeding foot and the shards of the lamp he smashed in anger. I close my eyes in pain when I try to remove the large shard. Blood pours out like thick molasses. The cut is frighteningly deep. Too deep for me to chase after him. But I have to try. I can't lose him. I love him. No matter how badly I have hurt him, I love him more than life itself. And I will not sit here like a helpless baby and let him walk away. I need to talk to him. Help make him see.
Grinding my teeth together, I curl my fingers around the large shard and count to three. One... Two — I rip the glass out and throw it at the wall across from me. The pain that sweeps through my body, clinging to every tissue and nerve that keeps me alive, is unbearable. I feel like I am going to pass out, but I need to find Grey. I need to talk to him. So, sucking in a deep breath and thinking of him and him only, I push myself onto my hands and use the wall next to me to stand.
Limping, I rush to the elevator, slowly because of my foot, and chase him down to the ground level. I race out when the shaft comes to a stop. Snow sticks to my skin and I belt out a whimper at the freezing cold wrapping around my bare arms and legs. He is getting into his car. Bare foot and shirtless. He is in such a rush to get away from me. Away from his own home. It almost stings as the moment he pushed me against the wall. I could see it. The love and trust he had build for me — it all faded away, the moment he read the fucking book. I wish I never wrote any of it. I wish I never met him. Because, then, I wouldn't be feeling this heartbreak and he wouldn't have gotten hurt. I wish I could go back and put the pen down and just forget him. But I didn't, and now I have to fix this. Even if I have to bleed out. I have to get to him.
I stumble after him and call out his name in a horse tone. His eyes look in the rearview mirror and he crooks a smirk at me, and I smile a brief smile. But then flips me off and stomps on the gas pedal and floors it out of his parking spot. I widen my eyes in panic and begin running after him. But then my wounded foot meets the sharp edges of the cement, and I let out an animalistic howl and collapse to the ground.
He is gone.
And I am left with the overwhelming feeling of my heart squeezing together like a crushed juice pack, gravel in my mouth, and blood covering me, my head fuzzy and my eyes bright. All because of that stupid book and that damned program. I just wanted to get in and jump start my dream career. And he was there. I hated him at the time. I thought it'd be an easy entry into the prestige program. But I fucking fell in love with him. But that didn't stop me from continuing my journal entires. However, as the days grew and my love increased ridiculously high, they began to express my love for him and proposed a new theory. But it's too late. He's gone. And he read the worst of the worst.
And as a result, I lost the love of my life... forever.
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