14. Explosive
Chapter fourteen
Explosive
Drake
Excuse me?
I grab her arm before she can get too far. What makes her think she can just leave like that after I’ve confessed my feelings to her? That’s not how this was supposed to go.
“What did I ever do to you? You were the one that kissed me first, and now you’re disgusted by me?”
“That’s not what I said. I don’t think you’re disgusting.” She starts to recoil and stares down at my grip.
“Then why? Why haven’t you called me since that day?”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to. I had a funeral to go to, I met a lot of people, and I was mourning the man that I loved.”
“Yeah? You didn’t seem too hung up on him when I saw you with that guy the other night.”
Her expression twists into something that tells me my line of questioning is pushing her boundaries.
“Are you stalking me?!”
She finally rips her hand free and vaults from the couch, eager to get as far away from me as possible.
“Stop making everything about you, Maria.” I stand and follow her to the door, determined to get between her and her purse. I’m not going to let her leave that easily without some answers.
“You’re the one making everything about me! I don’t even know you that well, why would I jump at the chance when...” Maria buries her face in her hands and I can finally see that she’s trembling like a leaf. That’s not how I wanted this to go.
How did I let all of this get out of control so quickly?
“I thought...” I slump to the floor and press my fingers to my temples. “I thought we had something. I thought we could heal each other, that I could help you...”
“You caught me in a moment of weakness and you think that’s supposed to mean something?” When she pulls her hands away, I can see the beginnings of tears streaming down her cheeks.
I’m the one who put those there.
“You want to know who that guy was that night? That was Benjamin’s son.
The dead man’s son. His family. I’d never met him before that day and he didn’t even know I existed.
I was Ben’s big secret. So, yeah, I had other things on my mind at the time.
Like not looking like some kind of gold digger poking around a dead man’s assets and bank accounts. ”
Well, don’t I look foolish?
“On top of that, that wasn’t a date. That was the get-together after the funeral.
So while it might have looked to you like I was having fun, I’d spent the five hours before that crying my eyes out and watching the man I once loved being put six feet into the ground.
Does that sound like the grounds for a romantic date to you! ?”
“I’m sorry.”
“But you, you’re the icing on the cake. Thinking that you own me because of one moment of weakness? And you’re going to try and make me feel guilty about it?”
“I said I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I fucked it up.”
How did this go so wrong? I just wanted to tell her that I like her and get it over with. That was my end goal. So where is all this animosity coming from? Why am I angry at her when she did nothing wrong?
“I’m such a fuck-up. I can’t do this anymore.”
I have no idea what happens next; all I know is I’m being dragged into the dark areas of my mind that I prefer didn’t exist. Hungry, cold fingers draw me in and hold me tight, away from the outside world. Hateful, angry words fill my ears, words spoken in my voice.
Dummy.
Idiot.
What’s wrong with you?
Why can’t you do anything right?
It feels like I’m stuck in that void space for an eternity before I feel warm hands on my shoulders, lifting me and moving me somewhere else. But my eyes refuse to see what’s taking place, preferring to keep me blind and unaware of what’s being done to me.
How did it get this bad?
What am I going to do?
Nothing to do but close my eyes and let the blackness consume me. Maybe if it feels some pity for me, it will spit me out when it’s done chewing up my insides.