Unloved: A Novel (The Undone)

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

It’s impossible not to let some tears escape.

They’d already started to form out of pure mortification, but Matt Fredderic’s words tip me over the edge… You were incredible, he said. And the contrast between those words and the echoing remnants of Tyler in my head swirl through me. The gentle admiration and wonder in his gaze for the moments after it happened, the soft caress of his hands on my skin.

“Why are you embarrassed?” he asks again, calm.

“You sound ridiculous, Ro.”

“No. We’re not doing that—why the fuck would you want that? It’s degrading.”

“I just don’t see you that way, and I don’t want to. Don’t you want me to respect you?”

I want him to hold me again, let some of his strength seep under my skin so my voice doesn’t tremble when I quickly admit, “I don’t want you to think I’m a… a slut. I know something’s wrong with me and I can’t control myself. I get carried away.”

Clearly it isn’t what he’s expecting me to say.

Some combination of disgust and shock hardens his entire expression, his eyes going wide like a nightmare come true. I choke on another sob, because I know Freddy has been with other women before, lots of them, and I feel ridiculous. Ridiculous for coming that fast. For ruining the moment after. For humping his thigh in the first place like some animal in heat.

“Rosalie,” he says calmly. “Why do you think that?”

“You look like a slut, acting like that.”

Something crosses over his face—an emotion I can’t name but wish I could banish from his handsome features. And then, almost reluctantly, he settles his back against the door, huffing out a heavy sigh.

Vulnerability hangs off him like a well-worn, damaged cloak.

“Remember the girl I told you about?”

I nod, because not for a second have I forgotten a conversation with Matt Fredderic—let alone one as sensitive and important as that one. The one that told me Matt isn’t all simpering smiles and class clown romanticisms, that he’s a boy with a heart I’m starting to think is softer than my own easily broken one.

“She made me work for her affection all the time. And I was so… desperate. I wanted it so badly I would’ve done anything she asked. And I did, for a while. But she…”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes as he continues.

“It was never about love for her; it was all about control. And I know it’s not the same, but I think you might know how that feels. Trying everything for affection?”

I nod again, heart practically blocking my airway as I try to swallow. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Okay.”

“I—” My voice shakes as I desperately try to clear the catch in my throat. “It was like no matter what I did I always managed to do something wrong—to mess up. And I was never perfect enough. Never smart enough or sophisticated enough. And with sex…” My words drop to a whisper. “I was a virgin, but I wanted— I wanted it. I like it, and sometimes I get too into it, and act like a whore.”

“Hey,” he chides gently. “Let’s not use those words to describe ourselves.”noveldrama

I’ve heard Matt Fredderic describe himself as a “whore” or the “school slut” more times than I can count. But Freddy is more protective of every other person in the world than he will ever be of himself.

“He has all this power over me from so far away and I hate it.”

“It sounds cliché, but believe me, I understand. I gave her a lot of power, even after everything.” He grimaces. “Without her even there, I was still doing things with her in mind, but it was like I was moving in a fog, going through motions with no direction except a mean voice in my head.

“I trusted her—it was harder because of that.” There’s a catch to his words, like maybe he still struggles with it. “So I know how hard it is to clear that voice.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss to my forehead, reaching for my hand again. “But I think it helps to talk about it.”

“I’m scared.”

“Ro,” he croaks, a sad smile marring his perfect features. “You’re breaking my heart, princess.” Another kiss to my temple. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me—”

“No,” I say, cutting him off with a quick shake of my head. “I want to, I’m just— I don’t want you to see me differently.”

The confession is raw as it falls from my lips that still tingle from his kiss.

“Never.”

He smiles, and it’s so blinding it feels like standing in the sun on a warm California beach day. Like home.