Unbroken

sprawling hard against the floor. Pain shoots through my knee, the one I hurt just a couple of days ago, and for a moment, I just sit there and let the tears take over. Aching, wrenching sobs, full of regret and self-loathing.
    And worst of all, relief.
    Because now I’ve told Daniel the truth, I don’t have to be crippled by guilt every time Emerson’s face comes into my mind. Which is like every other heartbeat.
    He’s there now, watching me with those inscrutable eyes as I get to my feet and flee the building, out into the busy street. I blindly wave for a cab, not caring about the people passing by, or what they must think of my messy weeping breakdown.
    How can it be that my heart feels like it’s breaking, and mending at the same time? How can I hate myself for hurting the man I love, but feel freer, all at once? Even as the guilt overwhelms me, remembering the crushed confusion on Daniel’s face, I feel it deep down in my gut: certainty. I’ve done the right thing here, and while it may not feel like it now, we’ll both be better off because of it.
    I can only pray he’ll forgive me one day, I hope. If he ever stops hating me.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    “Juliet? What the hell happened to you?”
    Lacey’s voice wakes me up the next morning. I lift my head and slowly open my eyes. Daylight comes flooding in from the living room windows, and I shrink back from the glare.
    “So you’re alive.” Lacey says. She’s standing over me, her duffel bag in her hand and a concerned look on her face. So, she’s back from her adventure with Garrett the Bartender then.
    I groan. “Barely.”
    I roll over, and swing my legs to the floor. I spent the night on the living room couch, too exhausted to even make it to bed. Now, I’m regretting not making it those extra fifteen feet: I’ve got a crink in my neck, and my right arm is dead from being propped up on a cushion above my head for hours.
    “You going to tell me why you look like such a mess?” Lacey prods me.
    “Gee, thanks.” I mutter, trying to massage some blood flow back into my numb arm.
    “Juliet?” Her voice has real concern in it, so I look up and sigh.
    “I broke up with Daniel.” I tell her. The words feel foreign in my throat, and for a split-second, I wonder if it was all a dream. Is Daniel going to show up at the door to take me out for breakfast like nothing ever happened?
    Then the memory of last night comes rushing back to me, in all its messy, painful, jagged glory.
    Nope. That was so not a dream.
    I look up again. Lacey’s mouth is wide open, and she looks like I just told her I’m getting my head shaved, or running off to join a cult. Like I’ve completely lost my mind.
    “ Well, technically, we’re on a break,” I add, as the details slowly take shape in my memory. “Or taking some time, or whatever you call it.”
    Lacey gapes at me another moment, so I slowly get up, and behind to tidy up: picking the quilt from the floor where I must have tossed it in the night, and straightening up the couch cushions.
    I feel a tug on the quilt, so I turn. Lacey yanks it away from me.
    “What the hell did you do?” Her voice goes up a level and I flinch. “Jules, we talked about this, I can’t believe you just threw it all away!”
    “Lacey,” I try to stop her, but she’s on a rant here: pacing back and forth in our tiny, cluttered apartment.
    “Are you crazy?” Lacey demands. “Did you seriously just lose your mind? What did I tell you? This Emerson thing is a blip, a nothing.” She snaps her fingers. “But Daniel, that guy is forever.” Lacey shakes her head. “I don’t understand you. He’s sweet, and kind, and fixes things! Remember, when our fuses all blew and he knew exactly what to do? Jesus, if I had a guy like that…” She trails off, and for a moment, I see something flicker in her expression. “But guys like that don’t pick girls like me. They choose you, and you don’t even realize how fucking lucky you are!”
    “Lacey,” I frown, confused by her anger. “I can’t lie to him, I just can’t.”
    “So work it out!” she yells. “Do something, apologize, it doesn’t matter, just fix it!”
    “It’s not that simple!” I yell back. “I can’t pretend like everything’s OK with Daniel when I feel this way about Emerson!”
    “Like you want to rip his clothes off?” Lacey rolls her eyes. “Big deal.”
    “No, it’s not like that.” I protest. “And what’s with you? You’re my friend!