Started With A Rumor

Done. . . For Real

Jeremy's POV

Okay, I know what I did was stupid. And what is truly sad is the fact that I can't even tell you why I said what I did. One minute, I was ready to tell the interviewer the truth. And then the next minute, I was saying it was true.

I paced around my apartment, unsure of what to do. I jumped when my phone started ringing. I couldn't help but feel disappointed when I read the caller ID and it wasn't Sarah.

I guess thinking Sarah was going to call was a little out there.

"Hello?"

"I saw the interview," John said slowly.

"Why don't you sound totally pissed at me? You should be totally pissed at me. I'm totally pissed at me."

"Because I know why you did it." When I didn't respond, he continued. "Whether you want to admit it or not, you have feelings for Sarah. Strong feelings."

"You're right."

"You want this relationship to be real, which led you to. . . Wait, what did you say?"

"I said you were right. John, what do I do? She's not going to believe that I have actual feelings for her. Especially not after fake proposing and telling the world its true."

"How can you know if you refuse to man up and tell her how you feel?"

**********

After my conversation with John, I thought more about Sarah. I thought about her smile, her laughter, her sense of humor, her kind heart, her beautiful voice.

I jumped when my doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole to see Sarah standing on my doorstep, anger practically radiating off her. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hey. Before you say anything Sarah, I didn't mean to. . . ." Sarah slapped me, cutting me off. "I deserved that," I said with a slight laugh as I touched where she had just slapped.

"You're damn right you did!" She said as she forcefully pushed past me. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Why the hell are you laughing?" She yelled, spinning around and crossing her arms across her chest.

"No, it's just. . . It's kind of weird hearing you swear and seeing you so angry."

"I cannot believe you," she said slowly, running her hands through her beautiful hair. "I thought I could handle this Jeremy, but I. . . I can't. I can't handle. . . I can't do this anymore."

"Wait, what can't you handle?"

"You, Jeremy. I can't handle you anymore," She said slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act all innocent Jeremy. I saw the interview, okay? I know that you confirmed the rumors about our engagement. And it's. . . It's too much. You went too far this time Jeremy."

"Sarah," I sighed running my hand through my hair. "I know. I know I went too far and I'm sorry, but. . . I"

"I can't date you anymore. Even for publicity. It's. . . It's not worth it. I'm. . . We're done," she said before she tried to brush past me.

I stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "What do you mean done? Like done. . . For real?"

"What are we? Twelve? Yes, done for real." She said as she brushed past me again.

"Sarah, wait." I said catching her wrist, making her stop. Before I could say anything, she pulled her hand out of my grasp.

"It would never work," she said her back still to me. "We're too different. And besides, Mr. Hanson set up a world tour for me. I leave in a few days."

"Wait what?" I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. "You're just leaving? But. . . But you. . . You can't leave."

"Really? You're telling me I can't leave?" She scoffed, looking over her shoulder at me. "It's almost like you actually give a shit."

The truth was, I did actually give a shit.

But how the hell am I suppose to tell the girl who hates my guts that I do give a shit about her?