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  My soaked shirt plastered to my skin, and an overwhelming coldness filled every crevice of my body. I was going to be cold and alone forever.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch my life be destroyed any more than it is.”

  “So you’re leaving. Without telling me? Again?” The hurt in his eyes shot pain straight through my gut. But I couldn’t bring him down with me. My world was about to spiral into a shit storm. Who’s to say he would stick by me when the trial blew up in the media? I couldn’t handle that type of rejection, not with everything else.

  Run. Get the hell out of here.

  He needed to stay here and I— I needed to get away, fast. He’d want to come with me. But then where would that leave us? Ten years down the road, he’d still hold a grudge over putting his life on pause for me. We’d be broke, fighting over our mortgage and a leaky sink and— No. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t change his life, too. I shut out the urge to collapse into his arms. “Not everything is about you, Blake. Did you ever think of that?”

  Rain drenched his curls, and a few strands plastered to his forehead. Droplets beaded off his nose in a steady stream. “I know that, but, whatever it is, we can work it out.”

  No, we can’t. You’ll hate me and leave me a few years down the road when resentment wedges between us.

  And I said the one thing that would stop him from going after me. “I regret coming back. I regret everything.” I cringed as his lips narrowed into a hard line. “I wish we had never gotten back together. Being with you is suffocating, Blake. You’re holding me back, and I have to go.” Bile rose in my throat as the words sealed my fate with him.

  I grabbed my suitcase from his hands and chucked it in the backseat of my car. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he hung his head as I forced myself into the driver’s seat. Every ounce of me wanted to comfort him, to kiss away the pain. I dug my nails into my palm, willing the courage. I could do this. I was saving myself a lot of pain in the long run. I just needed to start the car and leave. This was for the best.

  Tears streamed down my face as I started the engine. While I threw the car in reverse, Blake pounded on my window, and an electric current zapped through my body. This was it. “Don’t do this. Please, baby, don’t do this.” The rain intensified. Looking at Blake, I couldn’t tell if it was tears or water trickling down his face.

  I shook my head and backed out, forcing myself to ignore his screaming. After I ripped out of the apartment complex, I pulled over, unable to see. My hands shook as I gripped the wheel. I just hurt the one person I’ve ever loved. But I would inevitably hurt him. He was better off without me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Blake

  She left me. Again. I stood in the rain, her taillights disappearing from sight.

  How did I fuck up so bad that she didn’t even want me to come with her? This time I was here for her, but she threw me away like week-old trash.

  I tore at my hair and stormed over to my truck. She didn’t want me? Fine, she could go fuck herself. Jamming my key into the ignition, I started up Betty and patted my steering wheel. At least I still had her. The only reliable girl in my life.

  The drive home was a blur. I clenched my fists when I pulled into the frat parking lot and killed the engine.

  She was gone. It wasn’t even like last time. I didn’t fuck up, I didn’t even have the chance to do anything wrong, so why was she doing this to me? Did she honestly regret getting back with me?

  I slammed my fist on my steering wheel. “Fuck!”

  I should be there, comforting her. Instead, she shut me out. Who knew where she was—probably halfway across the country by now.

  The stitches that had mended the gaping hole in my chest over the last few weeks burst open, unleashing a monsoon of emotions. I rested my head on the steering wheel and let myself grieve one last time for Payton. This was the last time I would let her mess with my head. I couldn’t forgive her for this.

  It had been two days since Payton left me standing in the rain. Hadn’t heard a word from her, not that I’d expected to. Knowing her, she’d show up in a couple years pretending she didn’t know me.

  Class was cancelled today, since Dr. Centafont planned on going to Dr. Cooper’s trial. Apparently, he called Andrew this morning, asking him to pick up medicine from the store because he was too sick to go himself. Guess he wasn’t going to the trial after all. I wondered if Payton would be a no-show as well. I’d wager my last dollar on yes.

  Andrew was laying on the daybed writing something on notecards when I walked into the room. He gave a cocky smirk and went back to scribbling.

  “Ready for the debate next week, bro?”

  “Yeah. You?” It wasn’t like him to be so studious, especially at eight in the morning.

  “Just writing my speech now. Gonna destroy Payton.”

  He didn’t know she had left. He thought she was still going to be in class. Just the thought of him wanting to hurt her, even after all the shit she did to me, twisted something in my chest. “What about our deal?”

  “I won’t name any names. But if it happens to slip, sorry, bro. We might be able to negotiate something, though.”

  I just stared at him, my muscles coiling, ready for a throw down. The fraternity bylaws became a distant memory as I imagined pounding his skull into the pavement. This fucking cockroach needed to be smashed and thrown in the trash.

  “I don’t get it. Is the bitch really worth it?”

  Wrong answer. Something inside me snapped, and I rushed across the room and grabbed him by the collar, tugging him off the daybed.

  “Listen to me, cocksucker.” My fingers gripped harder around the material of his douche-bag pink polo. “Even hint at Payton’s name, and I will destroy you. And daddy won’t be there to help you out.”

  He still had a fucking smirk on his face, but he nodded. I released his shirt, pushed him back against the bed, and left the room before my senses told me to screw it and beat the shit out of him.

  Was she worth it? Yes.

  Was I willing to go against every warning flare my brain fired just to make sure it wasn’t over? Yes.

  I pulled my keys out of my pocket and headed toward my truck.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Payton

  For the second time in my life, I stared at a one-way ticket to Florida. I would need to take out loans and hold two jobs to make it through med school, but it was totally doable. In Florida, they didn’t know me. In Florida, I wasn’t expected to be anything. In Florida, I wouldn’t get hurt.

  I perused the magazine rack, looking for fun reads for the flight. Tomorrow, I’d need to call Jules’s parents and tell them I moved out. They’d probably be pissed, but it didn’t matter. In less than twenty-four hours, I would be across the country.

  As soon as the plane touched ground in the Sunshine State, I’d look for an apartment and fill out the transfer applications. My stomach scrunched into a painful ball. Jules wouldn’t be there. Blake wouldn’t be there. I would be on my own. But, this time, I could do it.

  I pulled out a couple magazines from the rack and reached for a pack of Sour Patch Kids, but I immediately drew back. Blake’s favorite. The pain in my chest intensified, and I braced myself against the shelf. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed some gummy bears and made my way to the counter.

  An old, wrinkly lady wearing a black polo scanned my items and put them into a plastic bag. “Twelve dollars and nine cents.” The cashier smacked her gum while staring at the computer screen.

  “Hold on, I think I have some change.”

  I dug in my pocket and pulled out a few dimes and a folded slip of paper. As I unfolded it, my breath caught as I scanned my fortune from the other night at Chinese.

  Conquer your fears, or they will conquer you.

  The fortune slipped through my trembling fingers and floated to the floor.

  That was exactly what I was doing. Fear had a death grip around my throat, and wha
t had I done? Run. I let my fear of the unknown ruin my relationship with Blake. And my dad.

  Oh God. My dad.

  I glanced down at the time on my cell phone. His trial started in two hours. He needed me, and where was I? Trying to be anywhere but there. Time to show him that his daughter was mature enough to handle any situation. I may have lost my chance with the one guy I loved, but it was time to stop letting fear get in my way.

  “Ma’am? Do you have that change?”

  I looked up at the cashier who was giving me the you’re freakin’ nuts look.

  “I don’t need these. Sorry.”

  I raced out of the airport and hailed a cab.

  Chapter Thirty

  Blake

  An hour of sitting outside the courthouse and nothing. She wasn’t there, not that I thought she would be. Hoped? Yes. But Payton had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Once she made up her mind, that was pretty much it.

  I rested the back of my head on the cool, brick exterior as a cop car pulled up. An officer got out of the passenger side and opened the door for Dr. Cooper.

  He looked the same as he did when I last saw him, right before I left for Mexico. Glancing up to the courthouse, he spotted me, unable to hide the surprise in his eyes. His eyes…the same shape and crisp green as Payton’s.

  What was I even doing here if Payton was MIA? As the officer ushered Dr. Cooper to the front steps, I pushed off the wall and followed them into the building.

  A few people congregated inside, mostly officers and legal staff. When the double doors slid shut, Dr. Cooper turned to me. The officer with him took a few steps back and checked something on his phone.

  “Blake, son. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Wasn’t expecting to be here. Especially with your daughter’s annihilation of my heart. “Yeah.”

  “Payton mentioned she was seeing you again.” He frowned and peered around me, looking for a Payton that wouldn’t show. “Have you seen her?”

  Damn. Was I supposed to be the one to tell him that his daughter flaked out on him? I wasn’t willing to take that fall. “Not today.”

  He looked at the front door. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon. She’s always punctual.”

  I scoffed and checked the time on my phone. She had thirty minutes, but my guess? She wouldn’t come, ever. Nope, she’d ripped out my heart when she left, and her dad was about to experience the same soul-crushing skills Payton had mastered over the past couple years.

  What was I doing here? I needed to get the hell out. I was delusional to think she’d show up. So much for true love. What a bunch of shit. “It was nice seeing you, Dr. Cooper. I hope the verdict is a good one.” I looked at him one last time. He’d be the closest to Payton I’d ever get again.

  As I pushed open the double doors, a gust of frigid wind cut through my jacket, deep into the marrow of my bones, promising that I’d be a cold, lonely bastard for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Payton

  I raced up the marble courthouse stairs with ten minutes to spare.

  My dad was sitting on a bench outside of the courtroom next to Mr. Otis. He sprung out of his seat when our eyes met.

  “There she is! I told you she wouldn’t be late.”

  I wasn’t about to admit that I almost didn’t come at all. Nope. I set out to conquer my fears, one at a time. Dr. Centafont likely sat in that courtroom, waiting for the trial to start, but who cared anymore? Dad was more important than whatever Dr. Centafont thought about me. “Bad traffic. Would have been here twenty minutes ago, but there was a wreck on Walnut.”

  “You missed your boyfriend. Think he was here to wish you luck, or something.”

  A chill crawled over my skin. “Who?” It couldn’t be Blake, not after all the hurtful things I’d said.

  Dad quirked his brow. “Do you have more than one boyfriend?”

  I didn’t have a boyfriend, but this definitely wasn’t the time or place to go into my relationship issues. “Blake was here?” His name stuck in my throat like peanut butter, my voice coming out hoarse.

  “He left just a bit ago.”

  He came for me. And I wasn’t there. I turned, fishing through my purse to hide the tears that burned my eyes. Should I go look for him? He was probably long gone by now.

  An official-looking man stepped out of the courtroom and loudly cleared his throat. “You may all come in now.”

  Mr. Otis stood from the bench. “Let’s get on in there.”

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and plastered on a smile. I might have missed my chance with Blake, but now was my time to help my dad.

  As I entered the courtroom, I scanned the audience, looking for the one face that decided my future. My gaze tracked over the dozens of people, including three ladies in their mid-forties, a college hipster, and an older man with an impressive handlebar mustache.

  I looked over the faces again. No Dr. Centafont.

  To think, after all the drama I had caused with Blake because I freaked out about testifying in front of Dr. Centafont, he didn’t even show. I ruined my chance at real love because of fear. Taking my seat, I sank down and rested my head against the back, blowing out a shaky sigh. Well, at least I had my dad…once he got out of prison.

  After I gave my testimony for the court, they freed me to go. The trial would most likely take a couple weeks, unless they came up with a quick verdict. The lawyers didn’t ask too many questions, because I wasn’t there at the exact time my mother took the pills, but I was able to tell them I saw my dad out my bedroom window during the timeframe of her ingestion.

  Blake never did answer my calls, and his car wasn’t in the fraternity lot whenever I drove by. He skipped out on the internship, as well. There’d be only one place I had a chance to talk to him. Class. And I needed to show him I had changed, that I wouldn’t run anymore. I just needed to figure out how.

  My pulse pounded in my ears as I paced in the entranceway of the classroom. Today marked the final day of class if I didn’t count the final exam next Thursday. Dr. Centafont had two podiums set next to each other, ready for the students to do their debate.

  I had signed up for the nine o’clock debate. It would only last, at most, five minutes. In the long run, that didn’t seem like much time, but those three hundred seconds would drag longer than the one hundred twenty-three torturous minutes of Beaches. I didn’t even bother to check who had signed up to debate against me. All that mattered? I was debating for my father and was going to honor him. I had conquered one fear, and now it was time to conquer the next. To show people the real me.

  “Will the first set of debaters go up to the podiums?” Dr. Centafont looked down at the clipboard and smiled. “Payton and Andrew, you’re up.”

  My heart dangled precariously on the precipice of utter meltdown. I could do it. Fear didn’t dictate my life anymore. No more hiding. No one was going to have anything to hold over my head when the clock hit 9:10. I walked up to the podium on the right, my pulse pounding against my temple, everything sounding distant and muffled.

  “Andrew, you may start first.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” He turned to me and gave a wry smile. How had I ever found this asshole attractive? He only cared about one person—himself. He didn’t care that Jules went to rehab, and he certainly didn’t care about keeping secrets. My heart constricted as I thought of my best friend in a facility somewhere, facing her addiction. This asshat was going down. I was totally going to own him in this speech—for Jules.

  He cleared his throat and tapped his notecards on the podium. “Only corrupt and damaged people think assisted suicide would be a good idea.” He gave me a wink and continued. “They are only doing it for their own need to play God. They obviously don’t care about religion, because the bible specifically states you can’t kill someone and you can’t kill yourself.”

  He continued on with his blasphemous statements for another two minutes. By the time he finished his speech, I had ch
iseled crescent shapes into the wooden podium, one of my nails bending back and breaking. The physical pain didn’t hurt. It was the fact that this guy I once liked, sort of, crucified my father for circumstances he didn’t understand. The worst part? Most of the class agreed with him. Dr. Centafont sat in the front row, nodding at Andrew’s speech as he scrawled something on his giant legal pad.

  “And that is why assisted suicide is wrong.”

  Andrew’s words brought me out of my zoned-out zen moment. I waited for Dr. Centafont to finish writing, then he motioned to me to start my speech. I didn’t have notecards—didn’t need them. I took in a deep breath and started.

  “There are certain circumstances where assisted suicide is justified. As Andrew said, the bible does not condone committing suicide. But, when the bible was written, the average age someone lived to was thirty. Most people didn’t live long enough to get cancer. My mother was not one of the fortunate ones, and she suffered from stage four breast cancer.”

  I looked to Blake, pleading with my eyes. If only he could see that I was sorry, that I would never let fear own my life any longer. He refused to look at me, keeping his gaze set on Andrew.

  “Dr. Cooper may have done some wrong things in his life, but helping his wife die with dignity was not one of them.” Hot tears formed in the back of my throat, but I pushed through, because I had to. I needed to clear his name. I needed to stop being a coward. I needed to stop hiding.

  “You may think he has some God complex, but what you don’t know is that he was a caring dad and a loving husband. He always held the door open, gave to people less fortunate, and would never do something that would hurt another. His wife asked him to do this. He’s not a monster; he’s a husband who didn’t want his wife to suffer and waste away in front of his daughter. You may be wondering how I know this.”

  I looked at Dr. Centafont and mentally waved good-bye to the medical program at Drexler. “Evan Cooper is my father, and I’m proud to be his daughter. That’s all.” A few people gasped, and Dr. Centafont cocked his eyebrow and leveled me with a condescending gaze.