I don't know how long I'm on the floor crying. I can't catch the oxygen around me and I'm dry heaving into my sweater. The front door opens, and I see a face I don't recognize through my tears, wisps of words wicked away by confusion, my thoughts scramble so many times I don't know if I'm even conscious anymore.

My body is locked. I'm wheezing in deep, strained inhalations, and the walls won't stop swaying in front of me.

Someone pulls me into their arms.

"It's okay baby, I'm here" they whisper and as soon as I hear the voice, I know it's Warner. He clutches me tighter to him. Murmuring softly in my ear. Making promises we both know he can't keep. Through it all, he strokes my hair, my back, in long comforting sweeps. There is a sweetness, a gentleness to his touch even though I could feel him vibrating with anger beneath me.

I want to speak, but my lips aren't working. Warner is whispering words of comfort I can't hear, and his arms are wrapped entirely around me, trying to keep me together through sheer physical force but it's no use.

Warner is shushing me, rocking me back and forth, and it's only then that I realize I am making the most excruciating, ear-splitting sound, agony ripping through me. I want to speak, to protest, I'm so embarrassed I don't want him here. I'm ashamed of myself. "Baby," he whispers against the top of my head. "Talk to me. Please."

I finally break free from his arms, gasping and doubling over my stomach.

"Juliet, please, let me help you –"

"Everyone knows. I wanted a fresh start and now everyone knows." I choke on the words.

"I know, I'm so sorry," he says. "I saw what they are commenting, and I will get that post down and everyone who commented will be dealt with."

"Oh, God. My phone I need my phone." Suddenly I'm up on my feet and I grab my phone from across the floor.

"No Juliet don't look it will only make it worse. It's not worth it. You shouldn't care what those people think."

If I wasn't struggling to breathe, I would've laughed in his face. As if it were that easy not to care about what they were saying. "Of course, I care what they think!" I yell.

"Well, I really wish you didn't. I look at those photos and I see nothing wrong, and I hate that those people have made you feel differently." He reaches out to me, but I step back.

"You don't get it."

"I get that those people are horrible to you, and it hurts me to see you like this. You care too much about what they think! You can't let them upset you like this. There is nothing wrong with those photos and anything they are saying isn't true."

His words angered me. I know I cared too much about what people thought of me. That was the problem. But he couldn't just expect me not to care after years of bullying. He didn't know how it felt to be called these names. How it felt to change everything about myself, to start over and have my past thrown back in my face. I thought this would never happen again.

"No, you don't get it and you never will! You have no idea what it was like for me in high school and you have no idea what it is like for me to have those photos posted! Do you think I want to be like this? I look at myself and I hate what I see. Those comments aren't saying anything to me that I haven't already told myself."

"Please don't talk about yourself like this."

I knew it was hurting him to see me this way. I didn't want him to see me like this, I didn't want him to see those photos or to see the things people were saying. He must be so embarrassed of me.

I click on my phone and go back to the post. More comments have flooded in.

@Warnerbrooks, this is your girlfriend? That's nasty bro – Noah97

Ew acne that bad is actually gross, no wonder she is always caked in makeup – Stacy52

@Stacy52 Trust me, she still looks like this without it. We defs need her to let us know the foundation she uses – Sierra29

She looks like Ugly Betty – Emily98

Does this count as charity work? @Warnerbrooks – James22

The word charity triggers something in me. Triggers that insecure part of me from the beginning that Warner was only with me because he felt bad for me. He did all these sweet things for me and said such nice things. Did he just do it because he felt bad? I didn't want him to face backlash for this, for simply being with me. To be embarrassed around his soccer team and friends.

I knew Sierra wouldn't stop here, she would go for Warner next. She knew how much I cared about him. I was not going to put him in that position, him being close to me, only made him a target.

He seems to know what I'm thinking because he reaches out to me. "Please Juliet whatever you are thinking it's not true."

I was self-sabotaging, but I didn't care. It would be better to end it now, I was already too attached, and I cared enough about him that I didn't want him to deal with this. To go back to campus with me and have people say these things to him. I loved him; I knew it long before today. I knew it when he gifted me that dress, I knew it when he took me on our crime spree, I knew it today when Maggie told me all the stuff, he did for me in high school.

And it was nice to have someone care about me like he did, even if it was just for a few months. But I knew I had to separate from him, Sierra could do whatever she wanted to me but I wouldn't let her hurt Warner.

I couldn't do a relationship anyways. I was a wreck; I didn't even love myself. I couldn't put this burden on him. Seeing him like this because of me, because of what being with me meant. It hurt me. I was so stupid to think that this would ever work, that someone like him would ever be like someone like me.

"I want you to leave." my voice was steady, despite my shaking hands.

"No, I want to help fix this. I said I wouldn't let anyone else hurt you and I meant it. I will get the post down, and I will ensure they never bother you again." He reaches out to me, and I step out of his grasp.

"You can't fix this."

It didn't matter if he got the post down, the damage was done. And it reminded me why I couldn't be with Warner. I was an insecure, disgusting and pathetic girl and I would never be good enough for the man in front of me.

"You're pushing me away," he says, his voice tight, his eyes squeezed shut like he already knows what I'm going to do. Like he can't bear to see it happen. "Please" he whispers, tormented. "Don't do this, don't shut me out."

"I thought I could do this. I thought I could move on with you, but I can't. I am always going to be Warner Brook's little charity project. And I don't want to put this burden on you, I don't want you to worry about me all the time."

"Jules, I never said that. You're convincing yourself something that isn't true. You're just upset right now; you don't mean it." His voice wavers and I glance at his trembling hands; he clenches them into fists.

"No, you didn't but they did. And I know you don't want me to care what they say but I do Warner. I care too much and that's why I can't do this, I can't be with you when all I think about is why. Why someone like you would ever like someone like me." I could barely look at him. I knew this wouldn't last, our little bubble. My insecurities and that voice in my head were going to win eventually...they always did.

"Stop saying things like that. It's not true. I am not letting you do this. Don't let them get in your head and ruin us."

"You will be better off without having to worry about me all the time. I don't deserve someone like you. It is better for us to end it now. It was never going to last anyway."

It's true, I knew that one of these days he would wake up and realize he was way out of my league. Realize how much better he could do than me. Be with someone he didn't have to worry about, someone who didn't need him to fight her battles.

"You don't want to be with me?" He's angry now, a shaky hand caught in his hair. "Do not say these things to me. You are being cruel," he says losing his composure. "You are being so cruel to me right now and you don't even realize."

He runs a hand down the length of his face.

"I don't want to be with someone that I can't trust. It's always going to be in the back of my head that you will realize one day that I am not worth it. Warner I am asking you to leave and give me some space."

His mouth falls closed but he's looking at me, struggling with some kind of emotion, struggling to find composure. "Why are you doing this?" he finally asks. "Are you" – he's breathing hard – "are you – I mean – you don't want to make this work? You said you wanted me, you said I was yours."

"I wasn't thinking. Trust me, you are better off without me. Most people are."

"Stop saying that to me!" he explodes. "You don't know how I feel – you don't get to choose what I do or who I care about. How can you not understand how I feel?" He looks up at me and his eyes are so full of pain and devastation it takes my breath away.

My hands are shaking. "Understand what--?"

His eyes darken, deaden all of a sudden. He looks toward the wall. "Don't do that," he says. "Don't ask me questions you already know the answers to."

"I don't know–"

"I love you." the words seem to break him as they leave his lips.

He has to hold the side of the counter. He can't meet my eyes. "I love you," his words are harsh and soft all at once. "I love you; I've loved you for a long time, I knew it the minute I met you, but I was an idiot in high school. The man you wanted me to be then, I can be that now. Maybe I am too late but I know how to love you now. So let me love you, let me be there for you. Don't shut me out."

I am speechless. This is all too much for me right now, all I can think about is those horrible comments telling me everything I already thought about myself. The voice in my head was loud and ringing in my ears. It was repeating the cruel words those comments said and I believed every single one of them. And I didn't want Warner to be near any of it. He had no clue the lengths Sierra would go to break me. She would use him.

He drops his hand from his hair. Looks at me with eyes so open and vulnerable but his jaw is tight, his muscles are tense, and his upper body is heaving from the effort to inhale. "Please say something." He looks so sad I can barely look at him.

"I don't want to hurt you, Warner. But seeing those comments and those pictures just reminded me of the fact that I will never be good enough for you. I was stupid to think I could start over. That I could forget the past."

"Damnit, Juliet" – he turns to slam his palms against the wall, his chest heaving, his head down, his voice broken, catching on every other syllable –"You're hurting me now," he says. "You're breaking my heart—"

I say nothing. I just want him to leave, I don't want to see him read those comments. To see what people thought of me.

I thought of the comments on that post. Does this count as charity work? Yes, it was, he just felt bad for me. I was just something to fix. Someone like him could never love someone like me.

I stood silently waiting for him to give up. He was right I was being cruel but I knew he would thank me in the end. He would thank me if he knew how screwed up I was. If he knew the things I did or the things I thought.

"So, this is what you're going to do? You're never going to let anyone love you? You're going to convince everyone they're better off without you?" He grabs his jacket from the island stool and when he looks at me I see the anger and disappointment in his eyes.

"Warner- " I bite my tongue, trying not to let the tears I felt building fall down my face. But the answer was yes, I would. He was better off without me bringing him into all my drama. He had enough to deal with.

"Screw you, Juliet. You are a coward you know that? You could have happiness if you just believed that someone could love you. That I love you."

He slams the door behind him, and I turn my attention back to my phone which is still ringing with notifications. Hateful comments were still flooding the comment section.

This is why you take her swimming on the first date boys – Harry87

Yikes, they let anyone be a cheerleader these days – Abe77

I knew I should put away my phone, but I couldn't. I can't believe I ended things with Warner. My stomach was rolling.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck

My phone starts ringing and I pick up.

"Juliet?" Abby's voice sounded scared. "I'm on my way to your house. I saw the post."

"I can't breathe," I whisper loud enough so she can hear. My lungs were too tight to do anything but squeeze my nails into my palms.

"I'm almost there Juliet. You are having a panic attack but it's going to be okay just deep breaths till I get there."

I tried to calm down and breathe but I threw up. I threw up right in the middle of the kitchen. My stomach was rolling as I thought about what I did. About how everyone knew now, they knew how disgusting I was.

I stumbled to the bathroom down the hall and made it just in time because a few seconds later I was puking again. I retched until there was nothing left in my body, leaning over the bowl, strands of spit hanging from my mouth.

I fell asleep in the bathroom reading each hateful comment and letting each word sink in like poison.