Out of Mind (Out of Line #3)(29)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

Fuck, I needed to get away from her.

“I’m not marrying anyone but you,” she said, her voice completely calm. “When you wake up in the morning, come find me. Say you’re sorry, and maybe we can forget this happened. That’s how much I love you.”

Without warning, she lunged across the distance between us, closing it with one giant step. Her arms snaked around my neck and she kissed me. She tasted like tears, whiskey, and Carrie. God, she felt so f**king good. So f**king right. How was I supposed to give this up? Give her up? I’d never get to taste her again, and that hurt, too.

I broke off the kiss, a ragged moan escaping me. Tears burned my vision, but I turned away from her before she could see. “It’s over. Just give up already. I don’t want to be with you anymore. It’s…it’s your fault this happened to me. I blame you.”

She gasped and backed off, covering her mouth. I hated myself right then, for striking where I knew she’d be weakest. I knew, deep down, she blamed herself for this. And I’d used that to hurt her. To make her back the hell off.

I deserved to die right now.

The door opened. Senator Wallington walked in, took one look at me, skimmed over to Carrie, and rushed inside. “What’s going on here?”

I poured myself another drink. “Your dreams have come true. I’ve finally accepted I’ll never be good enough for your baby girl, and I broke up with her.”

Carrie shook her head but didn’t say anything.

She just stared at me, looking broken.

I faced her father, letting all my rage at this situation come to the surface. Letting them see how much of a f**k-up I was, finally. “Since she’s having difficulty accepting this, why don’t you tell her how wrong I am for her? Did you ever tell her about that time I almost got fired for bringing a girl back here with me? We got caught naked in the—”

Carrie cried out and spun on her heel, giving me her back and hiding her gorgeous face from me. I wanted to demand she turn around so I could see her. After all, I wouldn’t be seeing her again. I needed to see her—to memorize everything about her.

“Griffin, you’re drinking. You’re not thinking this through.” The senator cleared his throat. “Maybe you should put that aside and go to bed—”

“Sleep won’t change a damn thing. I’m done trying to make myself better for this family. Done trying to be good enough for her, when that will never happen.” I chugged the drink before I slammed the glass on the bar. “Be happy. You got what you wanted. You predicted it, even. Warned me in the hospital that I’d become too dark for her. Well, you’re right. So I’m leaving.”

“Then go,” Carrie said, her voice so soft I almost missed it. “You don’t love me anymore?”

I looked at her, wanting nothing more than to take it all back, but she was finally accepting it. I couldn’t give in to temptation now. “I can’t love you anymore, not like this.”

Carrie flinched, but didn’t say a word. Senator Wallington wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Glaring at me, he said, “Then you need to leave.”

I laughed, even though I wanted to shout at the top of my f**king lungs. “I’ve got nothing left here, so I’ll gladly leave.”

“You had me,” Carrie said, her voice steady despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. She lifted her chin and stared me down. “But that wasn’t enough, was it? It was never enough, because this was always my fault. You blame me.”

I met her eyes, my heart shattering into pieces. I wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, but I just stared back at her, not saying a word. Carrie stared right back at me, not flinching. She waited for a second, obviously giving me one last chance to take it all back. I wanted to do it so damn badly. But instead I inclined my head, agreeing with her without speaking, because quite frankly? I couldn’t even if I tried right now.

The tears I was holding back were choking the life out of me.

She swallowed hard, nodded, and walked out of the room. The last vision I had of her was her leaving the room, her head held high, as she walked away from me.

And she didn’t even look back.

Chapter Twelve – Carrie

I dashed up the stairs full speed ahead, slowing down once I rounded the corner. I walked down the hallway toward my room in a daze. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, and yet in some ways, I’d known it was coming. The whole flight to Germany, I’d been going over and over in my head how I’d done this to him. Our relationship had ruined him. Had ruined his life. How could he ever love me after that?

Easy. He didn’t. He’d told me as much.

I’d ruined our chances at a happy ending. He blamed me for his injuries. So did I. Over the last month, I’d seen him pushing me away constantly, and I’d made excuses for it. I’d seen him deteriorating in front of my eyes every single day, and I’d let him. He hadn’t been shutting me out because he was healing. He’d been shutting me out because he didn’t want me around. He’d realized he didn’t love me anymore.

I couldn’t fix that.

I’d been out of my league with him, and he’d been going slowly out of his mind—with no one to help him stay afloat. We’d been a ticking time bomb, and it had only been a matter of time till it all exploded. I covered my mouth and choked on a sob, picking up the pace before someone saw me. My mom opened her door at the same time I ran past it. All it took was one look at me, and she was following me into my room.

She closed the door behind her and opened her arms for me. “What happened?”

I shook my head, my hands fisted together in front of me. “He…he doesn’t love me anymore, and it’s all my fault.”

“What?” Her face fell. “Oh no. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“How…why…oh my God, he doesn’t love me.”

And then I burst into tears. I threw myself into her arms, finally letting myself cry. Really, really cry. I’d never cried like this before, and I didn’t think I ever would again. There would never be another love like Finn’s in my life, and I knew it. Knew this was it, the best love of my life. Gone forever.

“Shh.” Mom rubbed her hand down my hair, over and over again, soothing me without words. But really, what was there to say? Nothing would ease this aching emptiness inside of me. Nothing ever could. “Shh, baby.”