Brie Sheridan has had her heart broken way too many times. Rhett Price is usually the culprit, but, this time, he might be the solution.
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Brooke 'Brie' Sheridan wouldn't necessa...
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BRIE
I find it quite interesting how my heart still skips a beat around Cole, but it's for a completely different reason now.
I don't think this is something that will ever go away, especially when I thought my feelings for Rhett Price would mysteriously disappear if I kept pretending I hadn't ever felt them in the first place, but the flood of anxiety that washes over me whenever I spot Cole on campus is a far cry from the original emotions his presence used to pull out of me.
Now, talking to him is the last thing I want to do. There are worse scenarios to trap myself into, certainly, but I've been making an effort to stay grounded, feet on the ground and all, and I can't keep relying on hypothetical situations. Maybe he did have a point when he said I wouldn't get anywhere in life by carrying myself like I'm the protagonist of a romantic comedy instead of living in the present, real moment, but there's always an itch in me to hold onto the whimsical side of daydreaming. If that makes me an idiot, then . . .
At least Rhett lets me spend some time in magic worlds in my head while still serving as a safety net. He did promise me he'd catch me, after all, and has yet to fail me, so what more could I want out of this? Haven't I gotten the best of both worlds?
(I want it to be real so, so terribly, but my fears and insecurities have a tendency to get in the way of my happiness. I don't know how this will be any different.)
"I don't want to talk to you," I tell Cole, despite knowing he's not the type to take no for an answer. He never has been—he's never been a quitter, not until the day he dumped me—so I'm not surprised to see his resolve not waver, but at least he's not trying to grab me again. He doesn't even try to block my path, a clear change from his demeanor at Paige's birthday party, but I can still feel his hands on me and it sickens me. "I really should get to class. In case I haven't been clear enough already, I don't want to be anywhere near you. We've said everything we needed to say to each other."
His eyes narrow. My heart, stubborn as a mule, skips a beat, but it's not in excitement or annoyance—fear. It's fear this time, and I don't know how to feel about it because it's simply so foreign to me.
I don't think I've ever felt scared of Cole, not like this, but our dynamic has been forever changed and tainted by everything that's happened between us—everything he's done to me.
The point of no return is often the moment your partner lays a hand on you. We weren't together when he physically hurt me—with his hands—but the time we've spent apart has allowed me to look back on all the other ways he has harmed me to the point of making me feel physical pain even without touching me.
The heartache brought by all the times he blew me off, by all the times he didn't care about me or my interests or what I had to say, the blatant indifference and dismissal of my feelings and my dreams—all those things can easily tear someone's heart piece by piece.
