The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 36

The past twenty-four hours just prove that he is still the only thing that can make this ache subside … Because this ache is for him and him alone. Arrick devastated my life when he walked away, just like he devastated my heart last night by leaving my room.

I break down in tears as logic overrides naivety.

“I can’t be … He’s in love with Natasha … He’s taken … He’s not in love with me. This isn’t true or…” I wail brokenly, something inside of me snapping into place and realizing that Emma is onto something after all. Emma has hit the nail on the head, and I was too stupid to ever see it.

All I can think of is the years of memories with him, the trust and bond between us. The happy times and shared moments; the bad ones and how he wiped away my tears. The pain I felt when he told me he was leaving, and the hatred when I met Natasha for the first time and realized this one was different for him. She wasn’t temporary. The overwhelming pettiness and dislike for a girl I assumed just annoyed me endlessly, while all this time it’s been heartbreaking jealousy because she has him in a way I never can.

The past eighteen months of simultaneously pushing him away with my behavior to punish yet clinging to him with need. I have spent the entirety of his relationship with her trying to regain my hold on him in stupid ways, smug when it works, devastated when it doesn’t. Lashing out at him for it, and it’s all becoming painfully crystal clear to me in this face-slapping moment of clarity.

started pulling away from him, rejecting his care and wisdom. My own life lost any sense of purpose, and I slowly drifted

love with

I never even

him and give you tools to cope.” Emma is moving into counselor mode, mentally working out a route of therapy needed, and dealing with the problem like a checklist of things to do. Cutting out the emotional side and just

over and over in my head all the reasons I cannot be in love with him and meeting all the blinding obvious answers that I am, and probably have been for a long time. Too stupidly blind and immature to even realize it. It’s all too much while she carries on acting and talking like this is some simple problem that a few therapy sessions can fix, and not the absolute

down. I scrape the chair across the marble floor loudly. Words fail me as tears pour instantly and my head

gulp in oxygen, fear gripping me so tight my stomach tenses and I struggle to get anything at all. My lungs constrict, like they are about to collapse with the effort and my heart begins to hammer. I could be trying to breathe in sand right now as it would have

arm, her heat by my side, but all I can see is panic inducing

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