I walked a little farther on the shoulder of the off-ramp and was so relieved to see a gas station at the bottom. I prayedConnor wouldn’t follow me, but I couldn’t let myself look back with the twisted hope that he did. I went inside and called my brother.
“Matty, I need you to come get me,” I said.
“Duff, I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Don’t make me take an Uber,” I pleaded, my voice shaking with the effort to keep the tears at bay. “I just walked on the freeway because Connor Cunningham is a liar and I jumped out of his car.”
“Oh, fuck,” Matty muttered. “I’m on my way. Drop me your location.”
I went into the bathroom and took a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry. I wasn’t going to cry over him because this was never meant to be. But when my brother showed up and I got in his car, I lost it. There was just something about the pitying look he gave me when he asked what happened that made me sob out the entire story, wailing like a pathetic teenager.
And I hated it because as he looked at me, he couldn’t reassure me. He and I both knew that I wasn’t Connor’s type, so of course this made sense.
“So you weren’t just pretending for Dad,” he said. “I knew it.”
“We were at first but then…”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “What an asshole.”
But as I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, I was too heartbroken to feel satisfaction over my brother calling Connor an asshole.
Because not only was I heartbroken over the fact that everything I’d thought was perfect that very morning had all been an absolute lie, but I was also heartbroken for my dad.
I knew he was going to be almost as devastated as I was over the idea of no longer having Connor in our lives.
And one day, I might be able to forgive Connor for hurting me, but I’d never forgive him for hurting my dad, too.
What an asshole.
33
Connor
I couldn’t get her to call me back.
How was I supposed to make things right with her when she wouldn’t respond to my texts or call me back? In a moment of desperation, I’d texted her dad and her brothers, who were also radio silent.
Which was a little scary, but maybe less scary than Tony actually answering.
Because our roadside breakup was all over the place. As it turned out, half the damn city had recorded me as I followed her down the freeway, begging her for forgiveness.
The general public consensus was that I’d done something shitty and she’d dumped me.
Good job, guys, on figuring out that brainbuster.
But the public was also pondering the idea of Duffy being a jinx. The general line was that if we lost this week, it was going to be because she’d jinxed us by dumping me.
Great. More reasons for her to hate me.
After a few more days, I sent her flowers.
I literally went into the flower shop and gave them a handwritten note to include with the flowers. But two hours later, they called to say that the order wasn’t accepted.
“What does that mean, not accepted?”
“It means she told us to take them back. That she doesn’t want them.”
Why wouldn’t she just take them and throw them away?