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I didn’t miss the implication in every word he said. “So did she or didn’t she fuck Nate? Now I’m confused.”
His hands were in fists now, his shoulders heaving. “Now you sound like the jealous one. You’re the one that brought up fucking Nate! Would it bother you if she slept with him?”
I couldn’t help it. Meeting his rage filled eyes steadily, before I could stop myself, I gave him the truth he didn’t deserve. “I don’t give a damn what or who he does.”
Oh no. Now I’d done it.
He was up, approaching me for that, something spilling out of his eyes that I couldn’t stand. “That thing with him, was it only to hurt me?”
“Stop it.”
He was on me, hands in my hair, our faces pulled close, though I refused to look at his. “Tell me. Please. For so long, I didn’t think I could forgive you for that. I was sure I couldn’t, but, fucked up as it is, if you tell me you did it to hurt me, tell me you did it to break me, tell me anything as long as you tell me you didn’t feel something for him, before or after, then I can forgive it.”
I was trembling, head to toe. In rage. In fear. “Stop it. Fuck you. I don’t owe you anything. We were done when it happened. You betrayed me before I ever betrayed you.”
“Promise? Do you swear it?”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I repeated.
“Please. Tell me you did it to hurt me. Tell me it only happened after I hurt you. Please.” The arms holding my head angled to his were trembling as badly as I was.
Our combined shaking felt powerful enough to move the ground beneath us, to bring down the house that held us.
“I don’t owe you anything.” I had to force out every gutted syllable.
“I’m begging you. Have you ever seen me beg? Begging you. Tell me, lie to me if you have to, but tell me you did it hurt me. Tell me he didn’t mean anything to you.”
My hands were gripping his now for support. I thought I might collapse otherwise. This was why he always won. He used every weapon at his disposal, created new ones for his cause, until I felt too defenseless to fight him.
“I did it to hurt you,” I admitted, the words wrenched from my soul.
He tried to kiss me, but I fought him, heaving away.
“What about you and her? Was that only to hurt me?”
He looked so crushed at the question that I lost my breath.
He couldn’t even meet my eyes.
“Answer me. I answered you, so you answer me, you son of a bitch. Was that only to hurt me?”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was unsteady. “It’s complicated.”
I should’ve known better than to ask. The wound had been festering but at least it hadn’t been fresh. Now it felt opened anew, and it hurt much more.
Of course, that wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear. I wanted an answer as uncomplicated as mine had been.
The Bastard.
But I’d known the answer before I asked it. The timeline didn’t add up. He’d betrayed me with her before he ever had a reason to want to hurt me like that.
“I hate you,” I told him, quietly and vehemently.
“I hate that I still love you.” Just as quiet, just as vehement. Far more destructive.
God, with just a few words he’d almost defeated me. I was a sore loser, though, so I did my best to recover and limp away.
I was nearly clear of the room, one foot already in the bathroom, when he finished me.
