“I hate you!” I screamed bitterly, my voice hoarse.

The window went next.

Glass shattered, fragments catching the sunlight, sparkling like something beautiful as they rained onto the driveway below. Mom’s old textbooks, the ones he kept under his bed, followed. Pages fluttered as they tumbled to the ground, some catching in the branches of the oak tree we used to sit under as kids.

A sharp, unhinged sound clawed its way up my throat. If he was so eager to leave, I’d make sure he had nothing to come back to. I smashed everything I could get my hands on—anything that still carried his fingerprints, his scent, his shadow. I swung again and again and again, until my arms burned, until my breath was a ragged, shallow mess, until my body shook from exhaustion.

I was enjoying the high of watching the destruction unfold before my eyes. It was oddly soothing, almost therapeutic. Next time Tiffany bitched about a boy, I’d be sure to recommend it.

But it was still not enough.

Nothing I did would erase him.

Nothing I did would bring him back.

Nothing I did would make me stop loving him.

I could destroy his room, tear it apart, burn it to the ground, let it rot in pieces around me. But I couldn’t destroy what he left inside me. I couldn’t dig him out of my heart like I dug my hands into his dresser drawers, clawing for something that would make me feel like I had the last word.

I didn’t know how long I lashed out.

Ten minutes? An hour? A lifetime?

It didn’t matter.

I screamed in his room until my voice broke and the sound dissolved into nothing. The quiet that followed was even worse, echoing in my bones.

“Beverly.”

I spun around wildly, breathing hard, the axe still clenched in my hands. Jamal appeared in the doorway, arms raised slightly, palms out, like I was an animal he was trying to calm.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, Bev.”

I blinked. My mind lagged, struggling to place him, struggling to understand how he had gotten here.

Hadn’t he left with Blake? Hadn’t he driven him away from me?

“H-how did you get here?”

“I came back to check on you.” Jamal took a slow step forward. “I wanted to make sure you were okay…”

I stared at him like I didn’t recognize him.

Why would he check on me?

Didn’t he know I was beyond saving?

“How about we put down that axe?” he suggested carefully.

I tightened my grip. “It’s mine now.” It’s all I have left.

“I know. But let’s put it down, okay?”

I shook my head, my breath coming faster. “I don’t want to. I’m remodeling Blake’s room.”