Trevor needed to work, and he asked me to stay at the hotel, but I needed to get stuff from the house. There were things I needed, including the It book. Not to mention, I couldn't trust myself to be alone. Jami continued to call me, and when I wouldn't answer, she continued to text me. Instead of visiting her, I refused to talk about it at all.

My head was knocking, believing it needed to remind me I drank a lot last night. The pain in my stomach was squeezing the life out of me, and honestly, I didn't want to stop it. I needed to feel something other than the constant pain in my heart. Well, whatever was left of it.

I drove down the street, seeing the yellow fields glowing, and realized I was close. From yards away, I could see the house peeking out from the trees. The vines I loved so much were coming into view, and the valley of wildflowers was getting closer.

His truck wasn't in the driveway when I got there, which settled the uneasy feeling in my stomach. I couldn't tell if I was sweating because of how nervous I was. There was a numbness to my body that I couldn't describe, and the suffocating lump in my throat was coming back as I walked up the stairs.

I pushed through the front door, noticing the bottles on the kitchen island. Instead of grabbing my things, I started cleaning up every trace of what happened. The ring was sitting on the kitchen island where he left it amongst bottles of alcohol. I clenched the island as I started crying.

How did we go from everything being perfectly fine to calling off our engagement? I wasn't even sure if we were still together. There were so many things that happened that confused me, and I was sitting here trying to put the pieces together.

"Bo?"

I dropped one of the bottles onto the ground at the sound of his voice. My hands started shaking, and I couldn't speak. He stayed by the corridor, staring at me as I stood with the glass on the ground. Instead of saying anything, I bent down and tried to pick everything up. Anxiety was flooding my body, drowning me. When did he become the person I was afraid of?

"What are you doing -"

"I'll be out in a minute," I whimpered. "Just let me clean this up and get a few things."

"Bo -"

"Will you let me know when you leave, so I can come back and get the rest of my things?"

"Please, stop."

I gathered the glass into my hand before walking toward the trash can. He stood there, staring at me, and I was suffocating under his gaze. There was a gravitational pull, asking me to apologizes. I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to say sorry for. Yet, I kept telling myself everything was my fault because I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of Kinnick yelling at me.

He watched as I moved around him toward the staircase. There was a bag lying in the closet. I filled it with clothes for work, and the pajamas I never wore. I never had to. There was always an extra t-shirt of Kinnick's, waiting for me to wear because he never touched it.

I grabbed my things from the bathroom before I went back downstairs. He sat at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup. Not the yellow one, either. It was things like that telling me maybe he simply fell out of love with me and was looking for a reason to push me away. When he learned about the pills, that was the best reason he could find.

"I am going to grab my books. Then I am leaving."

"Your books?"

I nodded, afraid of what he might say next. "Just the -"

"I bought them, so."

The humiliation flooding my body made me want to escape as quickly as I could. "I'm going to go."

When I got outside, I threw the bag into my backseat. I slid into my front seat, and everything came out. What the fuck was going on? I squeezed the steering wheel as I cried out for some kind of answer as to why this was happening. I realized I wasn't going to get it by sitting here. While tears clouded my eyesight, I shoved through the front door.

He looked up from his cup. "Did you forget something?"

"What is your problem?" I snapped. "What the fuck did I do to deserve this?"

"Do not raise your voice at me."

"What are you going to do?" I threw out my arms. "We aren't together anymore, and I am staying somewhere else. I don't even know why! I am so fucking lost."

"Are you still talking?" I grabbed the cup from the counter and threw the liquid at him. "What the fuck was that for?"

"I hate you," my voice betrayed you. "I hate you, and I want nothing to do with you. After I am done taking everything out of this house, I never want to see you again."

I turned away from the table, knowing I was never getting an answer. "Do not walk away from me!"

As I grabbed the door handle, his hand smacked the wood, slamming it shut. I gripped the handle with shaking hands, wanting nothing more than to getaway. I don't know why I came back.

"Look at me," sobs ripped through my throat as he raised his voice again. "Boston."

"What is your goal here?" I cried out. "I just want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"I don't care what you want."

He sighed, grabbing ahold of my arm to turn me around. When he dropped his hand from the door, I jumped. The sudden movement made my heart stop. I didn't want to believe he was going to hit me, and the look in his eyes told me that wasn't his intention, but I didn't know how to react.

"You thought I was going to hit you?" He furrowed his brows. "I would never hurt you."

"I thought you would never treat me the way you did either."

"That doesn't mean I would fucking hit you," he spat. "Are you serious, right now?"

"Please, let me leave."

"No," he sighed. "Because we got shit we need to work out, and we are going to do it right now."

"I don't want to work this out."

"You don't want to be with me?"

"Not after yesterday," I shake my head. "I am not going to marry you, and then realize it will only get worst."

"I am sorry."

"I am not," I shake my head. "I need to leave."

"You need to get back to Trevor?"

I shoved him away from me. "Fuck you! Trevor came to check on me because John asked him to. Not that it is any of your business, but I have nobody else to run to! You told me you would always be there for me, and now you are the only person I don't want to be around."

"You don't love me anymore?"

"You don't love me, either."

"That is bullshit."

"Oh, really? That is why you continued to shove my mistakes into my face? When did I ever shove your past into your face? I never told you to stop drinking. I never brought up the drugs you were using," I snapped. "You keep bringing up my overdose and then ask me to heal. You keep bringing up Warren but want me to move on. What the fuck do you actually want from me?"

"I was drunk," he looked down at me with exhaustion in his eyes.

"So was I."

"What?"

"Last night, I was drunk."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You aren't that stupid, put the pieces together."

"You slept with Trevor?" His face fell.

"If you can blame the way you treated me on being drunk, then I can do the same," I lied.

I turned around grabbing the door handle because I thought I achieved hurting him as much as he hurt me, but his hand was gripping my wrist again. I turned around to see anger brewing in his blue eyes.

"No, you are not leaving," he snapped. "I said a lot of fucked up things, and yes, I keep throwing your mistakes in your face, but I fucking want you. I shouldn't have gotten drunk and pissed off over medicine. I shouldn't have blamed you for the trauma you faced, or for not telling me about Warren, but I blamed you because I didn't want to blame myself!"

"Blame yourself for what? What is there to blame yourself for?"

"I couldn't save you! I couldn't save you from the pain you were feeling, and I wanted to prove to you that I could save you from everything."

"You are a human! You can't do that!"

"But I can fucking try because if I can't save you then I am nothing!" He cried out. "Protecting you is all I am fucking good at, and if I can't do that, then you are going to leave me for someone who can!"

"I didn't leave you this time," I pointed at him. "You pushed me away!"

"Because it was easier to push you away on my terms than watch you leave with your own."