Novel Name : The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers) Chapter 50

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Pulling my cell from my bag stubbornly, intent on ending this if it kills me, I swipe to my block list, find

his name and press unblock. I at once follow it with ‘call’ before I lose my nerve or change my mind. I

sit back, heart pounding through my chest and pulse rate erratic, but I must stop this once and for all.

He answers after two short rings, and I have to control the stab of pain that his voice gives me.

“Sophie?” He sounds shocked, yet emotional.

I pull myself together and sit up straighter. Taking a long deep breath to steady my inner chaos and

center myself so I sound calm and mature. My stomach twists and my hands shake.

“You need to stop calling me.” I state forcefully, trying to keep all traces of weakness or warmth out of

my voice.

“You can’t hit me with a love confession then cut me off, Sophs. I told you we needed to talk about this.”

He sounds strained, so unlike his normal cool self, and the noise in the background suggests he is at

Carrero Corp. The hustle and bustle of office noises and the reason he’s keeping his tone down. He

must be in either his office with his PA nearby or out at Jake’s, maybe even on the main office floor by

the sound of it.

“Yes, I can because I need to, and nothing can fix this except space. What is talking going to do, Arry?

Huh? Are you going to suddenly not love Natasha anymore and ask me to settle down and be your

girlfriend?” It comes out nastily, hurt moving in, and I scold myself for sounding so pathetic. Hate myself

for lashing out at him, when really, he’s done absolutely nothing wrong at all.

“I can’t just stop giving a shit about you. It’s not that easy. This whole thing is killing me, and I don’t

know what else to do but talk to you about it. Your head is not’ the only one which has been fucked up

by this.” His tone is ravaged; I know Arrick better than most, I’m one of the few people he openly gets

emotional in front of, and this is so not him to be like this when surrounded by others. I hate that this is

hurting him as much as it’s hurting me, but I have to be stronger, I have to do what’s right for me.

“There’s nothing you can say. Just leave me be and let me move on, Arry. I’m begging you. Stop calling

me, stop texting, and just leave me alone. Let me get over you and get some sanity back. Maybe after

that, we can see each other ... but not until then.” A knot of emotion hits me hard in the throat,

threatening to choke me, but I must stay tough on this, I have to make this clear.

“I can’t do that ... What if you need me? What if I need you?” He sounds desperate, his voice straining

and his calm demeanor going completely to hell.

“You’ve never needed me, and I need to learn to stop needing you. I won’t be going back down that

route of self-destruction and booze, so you can be happy knowing I’m sorting myself out. I’m trying to

be a better person, for me, and I’m trying to find a way to get on in life. I can’t do that if you keep pulling

me back to you. If you care about me, like you say you do, then let me go. Let me do this on my own.”

My voice wobbles and breaks; clear signs that I’m not as strong as I want to be and saying this to him

is ripping me apart.

“Sophs, please. Just meet me, let us talk about this. Don’t do this to me.” There’s a long pause while I

compose myself, letting my breathing steady as I push the tears back down deep.

“I’ve made up my mind. Now respect my decision to be a grown-up about this. Don’t call me anymore,

Arry, don’t leave me messages. I love you … but I need to let you go.” I pull the phone from my ear

before he can respond and hang up, swiping quickly to re-block his number before he has time to call

me back.

My hands are shaking, and I feel sick to my stomach, tears caught behind my eyes and a heart in

complete agony. This is the hardest thing I have ever done, and I already doubt my decision. Hurting

him is the worst thing ever.

I swallow down the emotions bitterly, willing myself not to cry, but I can still hear his voice in my head,

still reeling from hearing him again, and when the tears drop from my chin I know that fighting it is futile.

I open my heart and sob another flood of pain away.

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