It’s been a week since the party. I’d hoped that after a few days, Carter would calm down and realize that he isn’t to blame for losing his cool. Then we could sit down and hash out the situation. But neither of those things have happened.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Carter has disappeared from my life. He no longer sleeps at the apartment. When I asked Noah, he informed me that Carter has been crashing at one of the houses that a bunch of football players rent off campus.
It’s difficult to wrap my head around everything that has transpired. It’s like I blinked, and our relationship fell apart. Not only does Carter not live here anymore, but he’s avoiding all interaction with me. He only stops by when I’m not home.
I’ve peeked in his room and his books are no longer neatly stacked on his desk. His duffle bag has disappeared from the corner. His toothbrush and other personal items have been removed from the bathroom counter.
Exasperated by the situation, I broke down and texted, but he has yet to respond.
I’ve officially been ghosted. He’s still around, but no longer a part of my life.
I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do.
Well, that’s not altogether true.
If Carter wants me to let him go, what other choice do I have?
I’m still leaning against the doorframe of Carter’s room when I hear a key in the lock. My heart leaps in hopes that it’s Carter. That he’s taken enough time to sort everything out in his head.
But it’s not.
Noah walks into the apartment and stops short when he sees me hovering by Carter’s door. Heat floods my cheeks as we hold each other’s gazes. I’m embarrassed to be caught looking so pathetic. This guy has clearly dumped me, and I still want him back.
Normally, when my relationships fizzle, it’s the other way around and I’m more than ready to move on. Guess there’s a first time for everything. Maybe that’s why this stings so much. Although somehow, I don’t think that’s the reason.
Noah clears his throat and throws his backpack onto the small table. “You doing okay?”
I nod.
But, no…no, I’m not.
The way his brows draw together tells me that he doesn’t believe me.
“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” he mutters.
A pair of sad sacks is what he means. I’m no longer with Carter and Noah has broken up with Ashley. I always imagined relishing the moment Noah and Ashley called it quits, but I can’t bring myself to feel any kind of joy.
I snort and push away from Carter’s doorjamb. At some point, I’m going to have to come to terms with the fact that our relationship is over and there’s nothing I can do about it but move on. Although that’s easier said than done.
Noah doesn’t glance up as he flips through a stack of mail on the table. “Have you talked to him?” He doesn’t specify who him is, but he doesn’t have to.
Carter dominates both of our thoughts. I may have lost my boyfriend, but Noah lost his best friend.
“No.” I shake my head. “He won’t return my texts.”
I bite my lip, not wanting to ask. If I were smart, I’d drop the subject and move on. At least pretend to move on.
Fake it until you make it, right?
“Have you?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
He shifts from one foot to the other and avoids eye contact. “I saw him at football practice.”
Oh, yeah. Right.
He glances up and shrugs. “And I was here the other day when he stopped by to pick up more stuff.”
Pain blooms in my chest like a gunshot wound. I honestly can’t imagine surviving this. “So, he’s just not going to live here anymore?”
“I don’t know, Daze. I told him that he didn’t have to stay there.” Noah’s lip curls. “He’s sleeping on Owen’s couch and there’s a shit ton of people coming and going at all hours.”
“Does he hate me that much?” The thought is so painful that it’s a miracle I’m still standing upright.
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” Noah shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell he’s doing. It’s like something snapped inside him. He’s got it in his head that he’s just like his dad and nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve tried talking sense into him, but he won’t listen to me.”
“He won’t talk to me, Noah.” My shoulders droop. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I know,” he says. “I think he just needs time to work everything out in his head.”
“I hope you’re right.” Not wanting my cousin to see the wetness that has gathered in my eyes, I turn away.
I’m willing to give Carter his space, but there’s only so much I can take before I’m forced to admit defeat and walk away.
I fear time is running out.
