Page 83 of #Lovestrong

Lena

Ididn't really think breaking up with Declan through all the way. I thought I did, but clearly, I missed a few points. Like Candice. Sitting in the center of my bed, I stare at her as she paces back and forth across my room, her face red with anger. If this were a cartoon, smoke would be billowing out of her ears and veins would thump in the side of her neck and forehead.

"Candice," I say quietly. "Please try to underst—"

"Don't. Even. Do. That." She turns toward me and stamps her foot. "I completely understand everything you've said."

"So why are you mad? I'm doing this for him." I scoot to the edge of the bed and let my legs dangle over the side.

Candice points her finger in my face and takes a sharp step forward. "Horse shit, Magdalena. You're not doing this for him. You're doing this for you. Because you think you're too messed up, too broken, too whatever to love and be loved. If you're going to do something so obviously selfish and ignorant, at least have the tits to own up to it."

I sigh and stare at the floor. "You're wrong."

Her shoes click much softer across my floor than I expect them to given the argument we've had over the last forty-five minutes. I startle when she lightly grasps each side of my face and makes me look at her. She kneels down so we're eye level, and it's the first sign of anything but anger in her eyes since I opened the front door tonight.

"Lena, you're my best friend. You might need more time, but whatever happened over the holiday doesn't mean you're unworthy. It means you still have a lot of healing left to do. You haven't even been here a year yet. You haven't been in therapy a year. You're rushing everything and basing your choices on impulse and how you feel at your lowest, and that isn't the right thing to do."

Slow tears trickle down my face, and she lets go of me and stands up, slowly heading for my bedroom door. I look up as she stops in the doorway and looks over her shoulder at me.

"Don't ruin what could be an amazing future just because you're struggling with the past. God gave you and Declan each other for a reason. I don't believe you two loving each other was ever really a choice. This was His plan."

Before I can respond, she's gone, her steps echoing further away until the front door lightly shuts.

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and run my hands through my hair before wiping the trail of tears off my face. Sliding off the bed and onto my knees, I turn and rest my forearms against my mattress.

My fingers steeple against each other and I rest my bottom on my heels. "I don't know what to do, Lord. Declan deserves so much better, and I can't make myself believe You would mean for us to be together."

The tears fall down my face again, only this time, I don't bother to wipe them off.

"Why won't these feelings go away? Everyone says everything happens for a reason, and all the suffering we go through is all part of Your divine plan, but I don't see a purpose, Lord. I've tried, tried, to find a reason to the shooting. To Cam and Camilla, to why Peter blamed me. Why I survived when they didn't. And I don't see it."

I sink further onto my knees, crying like I never have before. Why does breaking up with Declan hurt this much? Why does it make me feel this bad? Eventually, I curl up in the fetal position on the floor next to my bed.

Maybe tomorrow everything will feel better, and I'll actually feel like I did the right thing tonight. No matter what happens, or what anyone says, I did this for Declan. And if I can stay away from him for the next few months, we can both go our separate ways and he can find someone worthy of him.

Because, honestly, that's one thing I know I'll never be.