2
Emma
I curl into a ball on my bed, among the messy sheets, and bawl like a baby. Not pretty crying, although I’m not sure there is even such a thing. No, I cry ugly tears, my face red and puffy, with snot running everywhere. I’m not quiet about it either. I sob into one of my pillows and make great big gasping sounds.
I’m feeling bereft. I keep replaying what Jameson said to me, standing here in the doorway.
“We were never in a relationship!! At best, we had a fling. And now, it’s over.”
That hurts more than anything else he could have said. Because he’s right about one thing… we never defined the thing between us, never gave it a name. Clearly what I thought was so amazing and earth shattering, Jameson thought was nothing more than a fling.
Maybe Asher is right. Maybe Jameson real
