“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I said that.”
He looked taken aback, eyes even wider. “You’re just saying this because you’re hurting…right? Because if this is you talking out of anger and emotion, then I get that, but if this is really how you feel then I don’t know what to say…”
I pushed his hands away and swiped a hand over my face, ridding myself of the tears.
“Do you not want to be with me anymore?” His question came out forced, as if it pained him to even ask. Or more like he was afraid of the answer.
I was quiet for a really long time, so long that I could tell he was holding his breath, waiting for my response. “Cane,” I whispered. “I want to be with you—I do. I love you so, so much…but it shouldn’t hurt this much to love you. When we first started this, it was fun and different and exhilarating, but it’s not that anymore. Now, it’s just toxic and dangerous. Every day, there is a new layer of your life revealed, and each one is scarier than the last.”
“Kandy—”
“No, Cane. I just…I think the best thing for me to do right now is go back with my parents. You have so much going on in your life, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d feel safe going back with you.”
He looked as if I’d slapped him right in the face. Blow after blow, I knew it—could feel it—but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t pretend I was okay with this. The worst thing was his eyes. They were filled with so much regret, guilt, shame, and worst of all, pain. “Kandy, baby…please,” he begged. “I would never let anyone hurt you like that again.”
I shook my head. It was all I could do.
“Kandy…”
A throat cleared behind him, and Cane looked over his shoulder. I peered up, spotting Mom and Dad by the door. “Time’s up,” Dad grumbled, but Cane ignored him, focusing on me again.
“Are you sure about this?” Cane whispered, caressing my hand. I stared down at it, the olive slivers of skin between dark ink. I studied the dark rose on the back of his hand, then the word RISE on his knuckles, and came to the realization that I would probably never find out the meaning of that phrase.
“I think it’s best,” was all I said. I matched his stare, and he slowly pulled his hand away, looking me all over.
I could tell he had so much more to say, but with my parents waiting there, watching, he kept his next sentence brief. “If space is what you need, then I’ll give it to you, but I want you to know that I love you and nothing in this world will ever be able to change that.” He kissed the top of my head, and as much as I’d been trying to hold it together before, I lost it when his mouth was on me.
The tears I’d tried fighting were unleashed, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Crying hurt the wound beneath my belly and my heart, but I blocked out the pain and brought my hands up, burying my face in it. Cane held me around the shoulders and shushed me, his lips in my hair.
It wasn’t space that I needed. What I didn’t need was him. No matter how much I loved him, or how much I enjoyed being around him, I knew he was no good for me. Dad had warned me. Mom had even said so.
When Cane and I were in a room alone, we were amazing together—our chemistry off the charts—but out in the real world, we weren’t a good match. He was older. I was younger. He had a shaky past, and my life was just getting started. Our paths had crossed many, many times, and sometimes fate made us feel like we were winning, but our lives were passing each other, not fitting together. We happened to find an escape in each other…but that escape was over.
This was our reality, and everyone knew reality was a bitch. Karma was coming for us, but I figured if I let him go now, maybe I could beat her to the punch, spare myself another dose of it. Maybe I could save myself the grief and trauma by making a selfless choice, and that choice was to let Cane—my Quinton Cane—go.
“We’ve got her,” I heard my dad murmur, and before I knew it, Cane’s arms were gone. His scent had faded. I cried with my hands in my face for a while, even as a new set of even stronger arms wrapped around me. I don’t know how much time passed before I looked up and realized that only my parents were in the room.