Four Walls (Book One) ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Damian's lips spread into a smile that lights up his whole face—and possibly the entire ballroom. His blue eyes gaze into Jessica's hazel ones as their faces inch closer together. She stands on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to his in a shy kiss.

"Look what we did!" Jose exclaims, ogling at the happy couple. "The Love Doctor is back in business."

"They're pretty cute together," I agree, lacking his enthusiasm.

He shakes his head. "Pretty cute? Those two were made for each other."

"You barely know them."

"Maybe not, but I know true love when I see it."

"Okay, Love Doctor." I feign a smile. After my encounter with Mallory, it's impossible to share his excitement. I just want this party to be over.

Jose's stomach rumbles, signaling that it's time to eat. We part the sea of people to get to the snack table. Along with flower-shaped fruit, there are potato chips, pretzels, cheese and crackers, sliced vegetables, and assorted deli meats. Jose loads his plate with snacks while I pick at another piece of cantaloupe.

"Not hungry?" he asks, stuffing a cracker into his mouth.

I shrug my shoulders. "I figured we'd stop at Gabby's after the party?"

"Works for me."

"Great. I could use a cappuccino right now."

"Why not something stronger?" Diego stumbles toward us. His words are slurred, his eyes half-closed. He takes a silver flask out of his pocket and pours some of the amber liquid into my soda.

"I guess this is yours now." Irritated, I hand my contaminated beverage to Diego. I learned my lesson the last time I drank. There's no way I'm doing it again, especially not here. Not at Jessica's birthday party. This is her special day, and I don't want to ruin it.

"You're no fun, Layla." Diego chugs the coke and liquor medley and then burps loudly.

"And you're repugnant," I respond. Sober Diego isn't so bad, but drunk Diego is intolerable. "Make sure to drink some water and take a cold shower later."

"You can join me if you want." Smirking, he drapes his arm over my shoulder. "What do you say?"

"I say you get your hands off my girl." Jose's voice is like ice as he pulls me away from the jock.

Diego's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Oh, yeah? Did your girl tell you about the ride she took in my truck the other night?"

Jose turns to me, his face a portrait of hurt and confusion. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing!" I say. "He gave me and Jessica a ride back to her house. That was it."

"More like Jessica and I found you all alone in the woods," Diego corrects me. "You were, like, covered in blood. We had to clean you up with the first aid kit in my—"

"He's drunk, Jose. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"I might be a teensy bit drunk, but I'm not crazy."

Jose's jaw is clenched, his mouth a straight line. He puts his plate down, grabs me by the hand, and drags me outside into the chilly spring night. He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. The grin he wore just minutes ago is gone. He's mad. Tremendously, tangibly mad.

And I'm the reason why.

"Listen, you have to believe me when I say there's absolutely nothing going on between me and Diego," I assure him. "He gave me and Jessica a ride. Nothing else happened."

He glares at me. "So he didn't find you covered in blood?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why did he say that? Why would he make that up?"

"I don't know! He's a dumb jock. Can we just... can we just drop it?"

"No, not this time." Jose shakes his head and begins to pace across the stone walkway. "Look, I've brushed a lot of things under the rug for the sake of making this relationship work, but I don't know if I can anymore. Too many things just don't add up."

Tears sting my eyes. "Do you... do you want to break up?"

"No!" he shouts, making me flinch. "I want you to be honest with me. For once, just tell me the truth. Please." He's crying as he treads toward me. He intertwines his fingers through mine and gives me a look that slices my heart in two. "Please, Layla, I'm begging you."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Then why did you freak out when I noticed the scars on your back? Why did the mere mention of your home life reduce your inebriated self to tears? Why have you never invited me over your house? Why do I always feel like you're only telling me half of the truth?" He wraps his arms around himself as the sobs come harder. He looks like a little boy, not a seventeen-year-old man.

I hate myself. I did this. I ruined our magical night—and possibly our relationship—by lying to him time and time again.

I did the one thing I never, ever wanted to do: I hurt him.

"Jose." I try to caress his face, but he recoils from my touch.

"Why can't you ever just let me all the way in?" he asks in a soft, broken voice.

"I want to." I'm sobbing now, too. "I want to so badly."

And I do. I really do. I love him. My whole life, I've never loved anyone more.

But I can't burden him with my secret. I can't ask him to take the knowledge that my father lays his hands on me and do nothing with it. I know Jose. I know how protective he is over the people he loves, how defensive he is of me. He would want to save me, and I'm not looking for a knight in shining armor. I just want to make as little noise as possible until I turn eighteen and can escape Hank and this hick town once and for all.

With one last sniffle, Jose wipes his eyes, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat. Once he has regained his composure, he looks into my eyes. His chocolate brown gaze melts me. It takes everything I have not to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

"Maybe we need some time apart," he declares. "I love you, Layla, but I can't go on like this. If we're going to be together, things need to change."

I nod my head. "I think you're right. Maybe... maybe we do need some time apart."

His dark eyes widen in bewilderment. This isn't the response he was expecting.

"I should go back inside," I tell him. "Jessica's probably wondering where I wandered off to."

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends."

"Jose—"

"Don't." He backs away from me. "I'm gonna head home. Take care of yourself, Layla."

I watch him walk away, my heart breaking with every step he takes. My chest hurts. It physically hurts.

"I love you," I whisper, despite the fact that he can't hear me. Despite the fact that he's gone.

I take a deep breath, ignore the throbbing pain inside my rib cage, and reenter the glass double doors that lead to the ballroom.

Today isn't about me. It's about my friend, and I don't want to let her down.