Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I could fall into a piece for days—doing videos for social media—and only think of her now and then. At least that’s what I consciously believed.
Apparently not, I realized as I stared at the painting of her.
We’d texted after our night together. Or I’d texted Lily. She replied a day later with a polite response but no encouragement for further conversation. So I’d texted again. She replied two days later and again, there were no inquiries after my well-being or questions to lead to further discussion.
Like a pathetic arsehole, I attempted it one more time, but she didn’t text back for days and when she did, her response was courteous but distant.
Before, I would have called her out for it. Demanded she get over herself. Push my friendship on her like a codependent arsehole.
But this time, I couldn’t.
I had to stop being selfish with her.
Lily deserved that from me.
A month, though …
It might as well have been a year.
And I couldn’t seem to bring myself to care about anything.
Reaching for my phone to switch off the recording I’d use for my socials, I closed it out and saved it. To record, I switched off all other notifications, including phone calls, so it didn’t interrupt the video. Now I could see I had ten missed calls from Juno and several texts.
Guilt swamped me as I called her back.
“Dear bloody buggering hell!” Juno snapped in my ear. “Mumsy and Pa called me to say they haven’t heard from you in days, so I thought I’d try. I was this close to telling them to call the police. Where the hell have you been? Harry said you haven’t been back to the flat in days and that you weren’t picking up your phone.”
“I’m in my studio.”
“You can’t do that, Bastian! There are people who care about you. You can’t disappear on us!”
Juno rarely showed serious concern, so I knew I’d screwed up. “Junebug, I’m sorry,” I muttered wearily. “I’m really sorry.”
Her answering sigh was heavy with questions. “It’s not like you. You’ve been weird for weeks. What’s going on?”
I looked at the painting. The brunette was like an ephemeral moment of beauty the city couldn’t hold on to. Like Lily for me.
I missed her so much I was changed from it. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. Was this life from now on? A black hole of depression and misery?
“Bastian?”
“I slept with Lily on New Year’s Eve,” I blurted out, my voice ragged around the words. “And I think we’ve come to a nonmutual decision on her side to no longer be a part of each other’s lives.”
My sister was silent for what felt like an age.
And then she huffed out, “I love you, but you’re an absolute moron sometimes.”
“I do adore our talks.”
She ignored my sarcasm. “I want to reach down the phone and shake some sense into you.”
“I—”
“No. It’s time for some truths. You have never been this way about a woman. Ever. I knew from the moment you signed up to a psych experiment to win back her friendship that she was different and then when I saw you together, do you know what I thought?” She didn’t give me time to reply. “I thought, oh my God, he’s in love with this girl and doesn’t even realize it.”
That ache in my chest intensified.
“And before you argue, can I ask if you’ve showered, eaten, or slept in the last month?”
“I—”
“It’s called heartbreak. Depression brought on by heartbreak. Because you love her and you’re too stubborn to get over it and be with her!”
I glared sullenly at my painting.
“Sebastian?”
“Oh, am I allowed to talk?”
“Sorry. You just exasperate me sometimes.”
My mind threw back to the night Lily had spent in my bed. When she’d accused me of punishing myself over Lawrence. I didn’t know if she was right.
But I did know I didn’t deserve Lily.
“How’s Leona?” I changed the subject.
“Happy now that Mumsy and Pa know about her.”
Shit, I was a terrible brother. “Yeah, how have they been about that?”
“Thank you for asking,” she replied dryly. “They’re fine. Too caught up in their own drama to be overly in my face about it. A bit like you. You know Pa moved back in, yes?”
My pulse leapt. “What? No. When?”
“While you were stewing in your pit of denial, our parents called me two nights ago to let me know Pa moved back in and they’re seeing a couple’s therapist.”
“Shit.” I pulled my phone from my ear to check my call list. Sure enough, there were two missed video calls from my parents a few days ago. “I’ll call them back. That’s great news.”
“Yes, and when you’re not nursing a broken heart, brother, you’ll actually mean that.”
“I mean it now.”
“You don’t mean anything now.”
“Juno—”
“Go home, shower, eat something, and let your friends know you’re alive. Blokes are stupid about this stuff, but beneath Harry’s devil-may-care attitude, I can tell he’s worried about you. Go fix that. He can be a wanker sometimes, but I’ll forgive it because he treats you like a brother.”