I stare at him.
These words, they’re the words I’ve wanted to hear for the last three weeks, they’re the words I imagined in my head over and over, they’re the words he was supposed to say back then. I thought Michael was everything. I thought he was the right kind of man. Until I met Roman. Then I realised that Michael is as selfish and cruel as Roman’s ex.
It’s up to me now whether I listen to my feelings and get hurt or have some self respect and tell him where to go.
“You hurt me,” I say. “You really hurt me. There is no coming back from that. I’m not some toy you can just pull out of the closet when you feel like having a play, only to stuff it back in there when you’re done. I’m a person, I have emotions, and you didn’t once stop and think about those. Not once. Now you have changed your mind. I can’t help but wonder why that is? Did you get bored? Lonely? Decide I’ll do until you can find something else? What?”
“I love you,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That’s all there is to it. I love you. I wish I realised it sooner.”
“You’re wrong. You don’t love me. Because I might not know a lot about love, but I know when someone owns your heart, truly owns it, they could never treat the other person the way you treated me. They couldn’t because of the love. You’re not in love with me, you just like the idea of me.”
“You’re wrong. I do love you,” he argues.
“No, you ‘think’ you do. I should have realised earlier it wasn’t real. You just don’t destroy people you love. Whatever we had, it was one sided. I cared far more about you than you did me.”
He tries to reach across the table, but I jerk my hands back. “No. Don’t touch me.”
“Please, Molly. Give me another chance. We can try it out. I can move closer, maybe move in. It’ll be good. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You already lost me. The second you ended it without reason, and then weren’t there when I was struggling. That’s when it ended, Michael. There is no coming back from that. It hurt me.”
“It hurt me, too,” he argues.
I raise my brows. “Really, it hurt you? Funny that it seemed like you had a great time just ignoring me and telling me to stay positive. Who the fuck says that, stay positive? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just trying to make it easier.”
I shake my head. “No, Michael, you’re selfish. It’s all about you. Well, guess what? There are better things for me out there, things that aren’t so damned selfish.”
“Molly ...”
“Then there’s the fact that you basically told me I would open my legs to any man willing to give me some. Those words, they hurt me more than any other in my life. I might be a lot of things, but I am not a slut.”
“I never—”
“Get out of my house, don’t call me anymore, just let me go. Because honestly, it’s over. There will never be anything between us.”
“Molly ...”
“Get out, Michael.”
He reluctantly stands, and I do, too. Following him to the door. I open it and put a hand against it, holding it open for him. He turns and studies me, and the ache in my chest explodes into raw pain. I can’t believe I gave so much of myself to this man. I wasted so much time, but mostly, I ruined pieces of myself for him.
He leans down and before I can stop him, he kisses me. I keep my lips pressed together, my hand by my side, the other on the door, and I go stiff. I do not respond. He holds his lips there for a second before pulling back and staring down at me. “I know you love me,” he says. “I know you do. This isn’t over.”
Then he disappears.
I close the door, press my back to it, and slide down onto the ground, dropping my head in my hands.
Then I cry.
~*~*~*~
I open the door and a huge smile spreads across my face as I see Roman standing, grinning down at me. I’ve missed him while he’s been away at work. I miss having someone to laugh with. The last few weeks with him have really helped. I hope they’ve helped him, too.
“Hey, Bestie,” he says, brown eyes warm. “Do I get a hug?”
Ah. Hell yeah.
I step forward, and he wraps his arms around me. He’s so much taller than me, so my cheek only presses against his chest, just barely. He smells good. Again. I breathe that in for a second, squeezing him, then I pull back and look up at him. “Want a coffee?”
He nods. “Yep.”
We walk into my house, and he plonks himself down onto the chair. I start making coffee. “How’s things?” he asks.
I turn around, pressing my back to the counter. “Not too bad, did I tell you Michael came over yesterday?”
His brows go up. “Yeah? What did he want?”
“He rambled on about loving me still and how he wants me back.”
“You going to go back?”
I narrow my eyes. “What? Hell no. He hurt me. I’d never go back to that. I have more self respect than that.”
I realise my words might come across as harsh, and quickly continue, “I don’t think I feel the same way about him anymore.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little less enthusiastic. I hope I didn’t offend him with that comment. “Do you think he’ll leave you alone?”
I shrug. “I don’t honestly know. I blocked his number, but whether that’ll keep him away, I don’t know. Anyway, what about you? Have you spoken to twat face?”
He laughs lightly. “Yeah, spoke to her this morning.”
“And?” I urge.
“Calm down, woman, if you let me talk I’ll tell you.”
I grin.
He rolls his eyes.
“She basically said her feelings for me aren’t what they were before. I told her to just end it then, and let me move on, but she wouldn’t. She still won’t say the words, she still won’t completely let me be free. She still keeps me hanging on.”
God.
I hate her.
“That’s so fucking annoying,” I mutter. “Seriously, if her feelings aren’t the same, and she doesn’t love you, then why the hell won’t she just let you go?”
I know the answer to that, but I kind of want him to figure it out on his own. Some battles you can’t fight for other people.
These words, they’re the words I’ve wanted to hear for the last three weeks, they’re the words I imagined in my head over and over, they’re the words he was supposed to say back then. I thought Michael was everything. I thought he was the right kind of man. Until I met Roman. Then I realised that Michael is as selfish and cruel as Roman’s ex.
It’s up to me now whether I listen to my feelings and get hurt or have some self respect and tell him where to go.
“You hurt me,” I say. “You really hurt me. There is no coming back from that. I’m not some toy you can just pull out of the closet when you feel like having a play, only to stuff it back in there when you’re done. I’m a person, I have emotions, and you didn’t once stop and think about those. Not once. Now you have changed your mind. I can’t help but wonder why that is? Did you get bored? Lonely? Decide I’ll do until you can find something else? What?”
“I love you,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That’s all there is to it. I love you. I wish I realised it sooner.”
“You’re wrong. You don’t love me. Because I might not know a lot about love, but I know when someone owns your heart, truly owns it, they could never treat the other person the way you treated me. They couldn’t because of the love. You’re not in love with me, you just like the idea of me.”
“You’re wrong. I do love you,” he argues.
“No, you ‘think’ you do. I should have realised earlier it wasn’t real. You just don’t destroy people you love. Whatever we had, it was one sided. I cared far more about you than you did me.”
He tries to reach across the table, but I jerk my hands back. “No. Don’t touch me.”
“Please, Molly. Give me another chance. We can try it out. I can move closer, maybe move in. It’ll be good. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You already lost me. The second you ended it without reason, and then weren’t there when I was struggling. That’s when it ended, Michael. There is no coming back from that. It hurt me.”
“It hurt me, too,” he argues.
I raise my brows. “Really, it hurt you? Funny that it seemed like you had a great time just ignoring me and telling me to stay positive. Who the fuck says that, stay positive? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just trying to make it easier.”
I shake my head. “No, Michael, you’re selfish. It’s all about you. Well, guess what? There are better things for me out there, things that aren’t so damned selfish.”
“Molly ...”
“Then there’s the fact that you basically told me I would open my legs to any man willing to give me some. Those words, they hurt me more than any other in my life. I might be a lot of things, but I am not a slut.”
“I never—”
“Get out of my house, don’t call me anymore, just let me go. Because honestly, it’s over. There will never be anything between us.”
“Molly ...”
“Get out, Michael.”
He reluctantly stands, and I do, too. Following him to the door. I open it and put a hand against it, holding it open for him. He turns and studies me, and the ache in my chest explodes into raw pain. I can’t believe I gave so much of myself to this man. I wasted so much time, but mostly, I ruined pieces of myself for him.
He leans down and before I can stop him, he kisses me. I keep my lips pressed together, my hand by my side, the other on the door, and I go stiff. I do not respond. He holds his lips there for a second before pulling back and staring down at me. “I know you love me,” he says. “I know you do. This isn’t over.”
Then he disappears.
I close the door, press my back to it, and slide down onto the ground, dropping my head in my hands.
Then I cry.
~*~*~*~
I open the door and a huge smile spreads across my face as I see Roman standing, grinning down at me. I’ve missed him while he’s been away at work. I miss having someone to laugh with. The last few weeks with him have really helped. I hope they’ve helped him, too.
“Hey, Bestie,” he says, brown eyes warm. “Do I get a hug?”
Ah. Hell yeah.
I step forward, and he wraps his arms around me. He’s so much taller than me, so my cheek only presses against his chest, just barely. He smells good. Again. I breathe that in for a second, squeezing him, then I pull back and look up at him. “Want a coffee?”
He nods. “Yep.”
We walk into my house, and he plonks himself down onto the chair. I start making coffee. “How’s things?” he asks.
I turn around, pressing my back to the counter. “Not too bad, did I tell you Michael came over yesterday?”
His brows go up. “Yeah? What did he want?”
“He rambled on about loving me still and how he wants me back.”
“You going to go back?”
I narrow my eyes. “What? Hell no. He hurt me. I’d never go back to that. I have more self respect than that.”
I realise my words might come across as harsh, and quickly continue, “I don’t think I feel the same way about him anymore.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little less enthusiastic. I hope I didn’t offend him with that comment. “Do you think he’ll leave you alone?”
I shrug. “I don’t honestly know. I blocked his number, but whether that’ll keep him away, I don’t know. Anyway, what about you? Have you spoken to twat face?”
He laughs lightly. “Yeah, spoke to her this morning.”
“And?” I urge.
“Calm down, woman, if you let me talk I’ll tell you.”
I grin.
He rolls his eyes.
“She basically said her feelings for me aren’t what they were before. I told her to just end it then, and let me move on, but she wouldn’t. She still won’t say the words, she still won’t completely let me be free. She still keeps me hanging on.”
God.
I hate her.
“That’s so fucking annoying,” I mutter. “Seriously, if her feelings aren’t the same, and she doesn’t love you, then why the hell won’t she just let you go?”
I know the answer to that, but I kind of want him to figure it out on his own. Some battles you can’t fight for other people.
