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By the time I climbed out of the car that eventually turned up to collect me, I was wrung out. I’m pretty sure the only reason the driver agreed to my ride was because I looked so pathetic. But I wasn’t beyond a pity ride. I needed all the help I could get.

I’m shivering violently by the time I let myself into Sienna’s apartment. It’s silent, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that she’s not here. I could really use a hug right about now.

I’m numb, but the pain in my chest never lets up.

It takes every ounce of energy I have to drag my damn clothes from my body. I leave them in a sodden pile in the middle of my bedroom and saunter naked and broken toward the main bathroom.

The second I step through the door, I’m assaulted with images of the last time I was in here. Cooper and I squished into the tub like sardines in a tin. It was so much more fun than that, though. Everything always is. Everyone might think he’s the grumpy hockey player who hates the world, but that’s so far from the truth.

I work on autopilot as I turn on the faucet and pour some of Sienna’s fancy bubble bath into the water. But the sight of the white fluffy bubbles erupting does nothing. Nor does the heat of the water as I step into it.

I lie back, but despite the temperature, I’m still shivering.

I stare up at the ceiling, running the day’s events through my head. Everything was incredible…until it wasn’t.

And I only have myself to blame.

I suspected what he wanted to show me. I thought I was prepared. But nothing could have prepared me for walking into that room and seeing all the pieces of myself staring back at me.

I expected naked portraits, sure. But…

“Fuck,” I choke out as tears begin to spill over.

This is all my fault. All of it.

I deserve the pain, but that doesn’t make it any more bearable.

Eventually, I can’t handle it any longer and I reach for my cell.

I desperately want to message him, but I know it’s pointless.

Maybe I will tomorrow once he’s had time to process, or maybe it’ll have to wait until next week. All I know is that it can’t end here. It just can’t.

Ignoring his name in my message thread, I open my chat with the only other person I need right now.

Garrett: I fucked it all up.

I watch the message deliver. It’s late. There’s every chance that her phone is on silent and she won’t read it until morning.

But just to prove me wrong, like she often does, the message shows as read, and then she begins typing.

Sienna: What happened? Where are you?

Garrett: Lying in your bathtub. Do you have any whiskey?

A sob rips out of me as I think about that first time in Cooper’s kitchen when he poured us both a glass. I don’t like the stuff, but I want it now more than ever. The reminder of him.

Fucking hell, I’m pathetic.

No sooner have I pressed send than I hear something above me.

It’s not loud, not like when Calvin is using his gym, and it sounds like he’s railing my sister into next week, but there’s definitely movement.

And I get no reply.

I wait, and wait, and then the sound of the apartment door opens, and seconds later, Sienna comes rushing into the bathroom wearing her pajamas with her hair piled messily on top of her head, clutching a bottle of whiskey.

She takes one look at me, her expression falls, and she sighs, “Oh, Garrett,” before handing me the bottle. “You don’t even like whiskey.”