Chapter 12
Showing my emotions on my face has never been my strong suit, but when Joseph tells me that I look like crap with the dark circles that I’m sporting, I almost break.
It’s all my fault—I know that—and I should be better.
I should get a grip and move on. That would be best for me.
But each day that passes, I spiral further into this hole that I’ve dug myself.
After being let go for a break, I decide to rest in my dressing room. As I open the door, I spot a vase of flowers on the table, and my heart leaps into my mouth. The sudden movement behind them draws my eye, and I find Miles in my seat slipping something into his bag. “What are you doing?”
He hops up guiltily, rattles off an excuse, and moves further into the room. I sigh and settle myself in the chair. It’s warm, and Miles’s scent still lingers in the air, rejuvenating me marginally.
I hear shuffling around the room and open my eyes to Miles giving me a warm, dry towel and robe.
“I’ll step out. Call me if you need anything else.” He goes to leave, and I reach for him instinctively. He hisses and nearly falls to his knees when I grab his shoulder. “Woah, are you okay?” Comes out before I can even think about it.
We exchange words: he argues for me to let it go, and I am unable to.
He urges me to change. I finally yield, and we go back to bickering.
It feels good. Like the other night didn’t happen at all, like there’s a possibility for us to start over again.
I use the excuse to see his injury to get him bent over the arm of the couch.
My fingers roam over his skin, and he squirms beneath me.
He struggles, but not completely, deluding me into thinking he might want this too.
He’s on the verge of giving in; I can feel it in the way his body responds to my touch.
His arms give out, causing him to collapse further, bringing our bodies closer.
I whisper in his ear, hoping that he wants me too.
Instead, he shoves away, scowling at me, and I realize I’ve been delusional.
Miles’s voice shakes as he starts to go at me, and I can only sputter out short, terse answers. “Are you done?” I mutter after his tangent. It’s rude—curt—but it’s the only thing my brain can come up with.
His face twists, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears, which grips my heart tightly.
“No, actually. I’m not done.” He takes a deep breath and gazes sharply into my eyes.
“I quit.” Miles doesn’t wait for my response, running away immediately after spitting venom.
And I don’t chase after him. I’m shaken, stuck to my spot, unable to move—left with only my thoughts and regret.