Page 20 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Tessa—”

“I’m being serious,” I snap as anger spills out hotter now that I’ve started. “Do you know what it was like growing up here, and having everyone look at me like I was some disgusting thing they had to tolerate? And you were the worst part.”

His jaw flexes hard like he’s trying to find a viable excuse. “I was a kid.”

“So was I.”

At a loss now, Hunter lets the silence hang between us before he sighs and drags a hand down his face before looking back at me.

“I know.”

“Accepting it doesn’t fix anything,” I mutter.

“I’m not trying to fix it. It’s not like I can change the past.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

His gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that immediately makes my stomach twist. “I’m trying to protect you, and you’re making it impossible.”

The sincerity in his voice feels wrong. It’s both too real and too late, and everything in me hates it.

“I don’t need your protection,” I tell him, trying so hard to sound believable.

“That’s bullshit.”

“You think I don’t remember?” I continue before I can stop myself, not used to being this open about the pain I’ve endured for years. “Every stupid comment, every look… it follows me every day. You made me feel like just existing around the pack embarrassed you.”

Hunter’s brows furrow, and he shakes his head in denial. “That’s not how it was.”

“You called me pathetic. I didn’t do anything to you, yet you looked at me like I was worthless. Like I personally ruined your life.”

The words hit the room like broken glass, and Hunter freezes completely. For one agonizingly long second, neither of us moves.

He remembers. I know he does.

His face drains slightly, and his voice lowers. “Tessa…”

“No, it’s fine.” I wave a dismissive hand immediately, stepping backward. All I can do is deflect, “It’s ancient history, right? Just something that can’t be changed.”

“It’s not fine, and it never was,” Hunter returns, seemingly struggling to gain his own footing here.

I scoff. “Well, I’m glad we agree on something.”

Hunter steps toward me, and without hesitation, I step back instantly. The movement happens automatically as every fiber of my being screams for distance.

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re not. You’re being irrational.”

“Irrational?” I question with pure disbelief. “You’re the one who abducted me from the middle of the woods!”

“I carried you away from danger.”

Not seeing the sense in his argument, I can’t shake my bewildered expression. It feels more like I’m the one going insane. “You physically overpowered me, even after I said I was fine.”

“You are very obviously not fine,” he argues, letting the pressure in the room rise higher and higher.