Love All The Way

17| Back in the game

My first instinct is to make excuses like I'd always done with Lucas. Maybe there's a good explanation for why Milo's ex messaged him. Maybe Can't wait to see you doesn't mean Milo invited her to the cabin before me.

Maybe I'm not the second choice.

I turn on my side to watch Milo, feeling uneasy. He looks peaceful as he sleeps, his features cast in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. His prominent cheekbones stand out against the pillow, and I can't help but reach out and trace their lines with my fingers.

My heart breaks – shatters and splinters into pieces kind of breaks. I had let my guard down –allowed myself to trust him – which is why I can't comprehend that he'd do this, but ignoring the evidence is a fool's error. Hadn't I made this same mistake with Lucas? I'd blindly believed he'd put me before all else, including the promotion, and he didn't. The second Laurelle gave him that ultimatum, I became the second choice - now it's happening all over again. I'm sorry I couldn't make it implies an invite. An invite implies Milo asked somebody else to the cabin - someone who was not me.

Hands shaking, I peel back the covers, careful not to wake him, and get to my feet. God, I want to trust him. I want to forget everything that happened with Lucas because Milo isn't him, but it's hard when you've been burned. Instinct tells me not to protect my heart - react now and ask questions later.

I take a deep breath, then another, trying not to do anything rash. I'll just wake Milo up, ask him about the message, and all will be right in the world. But as I turn, ready to place my fingertips on the curve of his cheek, the vibration of his phone stops me dead. I swallow hard, glancing at the bright white screen as the words glare back at me. This time it's a photo attachment, so I can't see the content from his phone's lock screen, but the message that follows makes me nauseous.

Something to keep you going until you see me. Xoxo

A red haze takes over as I scoop up my things and shove them into my bag. If I thought things with Lucas was bad, this feels a thousand times worse. My lungs feel tight as I fight to keep calm, but the build-up in my chest is unbearable. Anna's words play on repeat in my head, and I feel like an idiot. Worse than an idiot - a fool, and that's the scariest part about this, the part that makes me sick to my core: it's not the fact that Milo played me.

It's that I let him.

As soon as I'm ready, I tiptoe toward the door before pausing to risk a last look at Milo. Despite the fact I'm trying my best to hold it together, my heart breaks all over again. Less than an hour ago, I was contemplating what a life with Milo might possibly be like, and now I'll never know.

Tears prick my eyes as I head downstairs to find Mulan. The sensible, grown-up thing to do would be to wake Milo up, but if my relationship with Lucas taught me anything, confrontation is a terrible idea.

Heartbroken Kennedy believes every lie spun in the moment. Heartbroken Kennedy is gullible, vulnerable, a hopeless romantic who wants to see the best in people, even when they're showing her the worst. And maybe if I'd taken a step back with Lucas, I'd have seen through his mask, but I didn't. I clung to his lies like a sweet lullaby, letting them rock me to sleep; I'm not about to make that same mistake.

Mulan, as usual, is stretched out in front of the fire. She's so intent on staying that when I lift her to put her in the carrier, she clings to the rug for dear life. "If you cooperate now, there is a tin of tuna with your name on it back home," I say, tugging on her belly, but she hisses in return. Jaw clenched, I add, "You are making my life exceptionally harder than it needs to be."

With a final tug, I hurry her into the carrier and lock the door. She whines softly as I pull out my phone and send for an Uber. Then I wait in the dark, Mulan's carrier pulled tightly to my chest, and cry. The thought of returning to my empty apartment fills me with dread, but what choice do I have? I've been burned before - doused and set on fire, in fact - and I'm sure as hell not doing it again.