hurt flash in and out of his eyes.
He clears his throat.
“I am sorry,” he says again, quiet but firm. He picks up his jacket from where it
was hanging on a nearby rack; shrugs it on without a word.
“Where are you going?” I ask, guilty in an instant.
“You need time to process this and you clearly have no use for my company. I will
attend to a few tasks until you’re ready to talk.”
“Please tell me you’re wrong.” My voice breaks. My breath catches. “Tell me there’s
a chance you could be wrong—”
Warner stares at me for what feels like a long time. “If there were even the slightest
chance I could spare you this pain,” he finally says, “I would’ve taken it. You must
know I wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t absolutely true.”
And it’s this —his sincerity—that finally snaps me in half.
Because the truth is so unbearable I wish he’d spare me a lie.
I don’t remember when Warner left.
I don’t remember how he left or what he said. All I know is that I’ve been lying here
curled up on the floor long enough. Long enough for the tears to turn to salt, long
enough for my throat to dry up and my lips to chap and my head to pound as hard as
my heart.
I sit up slowly, feel my brain twist somewhere in my skull. I manage to climb onto
the bed and sit there, still numb but less so, and pull my knees to my chest.
Life without Adam.
Life without Kenji, without James and Castle and Sonya and Sara and Brendan and Winston
and all of Omega Point. My friends, all destroyed with the flick of a switch.
Life without Adam.
I hold on tight, pray the pain will pass.
It doesn’t.
Adam is gone .
My first love. My first friend. My only friend when I had none and now he’s gone and
I don’t know how I feel. Strange, mostly. Delirious, too. I feel empty and broken
and cheated and guilty and angry and desperately, desperately sad.
We’d been growing apart since escaping to Omega Point, but that was my fault. He wanted
more from me, but I wanted him to live a long life. I wanted to protect him from the
pain I would cause him. I tried to forget him, to move on without him, to prepare
myself for a future separate and apart from him.
I thought staying away would keep him alive.
Stupid girl.
The tears are fresh and falling fast now, traveling quietly down my cheeks and into
my open, gasping mouth. My shoulders won’t stop shaking and my fists keep clenching
and my body is cramping and my knees are knocking and old habits are crawling out
of my skin and I’m counting cracks and colors and sounds and shudders and rocking
back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and I have to let him go I have
to let him go I have to I have to
I close my eyes
and breathe .
Harsh, hard, rasping breaths.
In.
Out.
Count them.
I’ve been here before, I tell myself. I’ve been lonelier than this, more hopeless
than this, more desperate than this. I’ve been here before and I survived. I can get
through this.
But never have I been so thoroughly robbed. Love and possibility, friendships and
futures: gone. I have to start over now; face the world alone again. I have to make
one final choice: give up or go on.
So I get to my feet.
My head is spinning, thoughts knocking into one another, but I swallow back the tears.
I clench my fists and try not to scream and I tuck my friends in my heart and
revenge
I think
has never looked so sweet.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TAHEREH MAFI is a girl. She was born in a small city somewhere in Connecticut and currently resides
in Orange County, California, where the weather is just a little too perfect for her
taste. When unable to find a book, she can be found reading candy wrappers, coupons,
and old receipts. You can visit Tahereh online at www.taherehbooks.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.
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