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That isn’t making me feel suffocated.
And alienated.
Eventually, I arrive in our bedroom – with him trailing behind – and am exposed to the other dress options, a view that leads to me investigating, “Did you call and cancel Calen coming over tonight?”
Wes leans his shoulder against the doorframe during his declaration, “His presence is no longer required.”
“Excuse. You,” I viciously chomp and chuck the flower onto the bed. “That is not your fucking call.”
“I think it is.”
“I think what you think when it comes to me and my life doesn’t fucking matter, Weston.” Impatience to get out of the scratchy material increases with an unsurpassable vengeance. “Kind of like what I think doesn’t fucking matter when it comes to yours.”
“It does matter, Brynley.”
“Does it?” Mockingly escapes in a high-pitched tone. “That’s why during your daddy drama episode you shut me out of your life?” Trying to reach the back zipper becomes my new task. “That’s why you wouldn’t let me be there for you?” More awkward twisting is executed. “That’s why you didn’t answer my calls? My texts?!” Frustration filled swiveling continues. “That’s why you missed my fucking doctor’s appointment?!” I can’t stop the fury filled fidgeting. “That’s why I went into that appointment with Hill, sobbing like a nerd in the 90s that just found out they cancelled Next Gen?! Because what I think or do or feel matters to you?!!”
Rather than touch a single word of my accusations, he softly proposes his assistance, “May I unzip you?”
“Why?!” defiantly leaves me. “I’ve been learning to do pretty much everything else on my fucking own! Why not this too?!”
“Because you don’t have to,” he replies without reluctance. “Because you never should’ve had to.”
“You’re damn right I shouldn’t have!”
“I made mistakes-”
“Several.”
“And. I. Am. So. Fucking. Sorry.” His lower half twitches like it’s considering moving closer, yet he stays put. Maintains the distance I’ve created. “Klingonaase doesn’t exactly have that phrase-”
“It’s really not something you should say when you’re part of a warrior clan.”
“-so I substituted it for the one I learned because it was the most fitting.”
My squirming completely ceases.
“However, I am so, so sorry, Bryn.” I watch his Adam’s Apple nervously bob. “And I understand that saying those words is not enough. That saying those words does not undo the damage that I’ve caused.”
“Not by a longshot.”
“But they still needed to be said.”
Sardonically nodding precedes a wave of the hand. “You’ve said them. You can go now.”
“No.”
“My building, my choice.”
“My fuck up, my fix.”
It’s difficult to hide the impressed smirk the words conjure.
“I respect that I am no longer someone you can rely on, that that trust has been broken. That’s why you call Calen and Lauren. I respect that I am no longer someone you can talk to you. That’s why you text Calen and Vanessa. I respect that I am no longer someone you believe will protect you. That’s why you let Calen and Hill know your whereabouts. I respect your decisions no matter how much I fucking hate them.”
There’s no stopping my eyebrow from quirking.
“And I fucking hate them, Brynley.” He shoves a hand into his pants suit pocket. “Yet the thing I hate the most isn’t that you’ve turned to other men to fulfill your needs – which is surprising considering my high loathing of it – it’s that I didn’t keep up my end of our agreement. You agreed to be mine and then I abandoned you.”
