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Not just the half-truths I’ve given him about the molestations, and the drug and alcohol use. There’s also the full story of Deacon’s death. The cover-up. The suicide attempt.
The flinch.
All the sources and subjects of my nightmares, laid on the table for him to see.
But instead, I simply sigh and forge down the road I’ve already paved for myself. “We don’t fit, River.” For once, the words leaving my lips are the cold, hard truth. “We’re water and oil, and those two things never fucking mix. You have to accept that.”
His eyes search mine, green as the tree we cut down for Christmas, and every part of me is breaking at the pain in them. “How can I accept something that isn’t true?”
Goddamnit, mo grá. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.
I lick my lips and sigh. “Just because you don’t want to believe something doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“But it’s not true,” he urges, pushing off my chest and putting space between us. “You and I both know it! And I can’t sit here and let you lie to my fucking face anymore!”
My teeth sink into my tongue so hard the taste of copper fills my mouth. Tossing my hands, my exasperation back with a vengeance, I shout the words at the top of my lungs. “Then fucking leave, River! Get the fuck out of my apartment and my fucking life!”
River’s teeth latch onto his bottom lip and he nods his head absently. When his eyes flash up to mine, they are brimming with resentment.
Good, Abhai “I swear to God, Rain. If I walk out that door, there’s no coming back from this.” My jaw ticks at his threat because fuck me that is the last thing I want, but the one thing I know has to happen. I clear my throat, forcing a bored expression to slip on my face. “Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” How can it be so easy for me to verbally abuse him like this? If I really love him, how can I treat him like this? When you love someone, aren’t you supposed to fill them with that feeling, rather than force hate and disdain down their throat at every turn? It’s then when I remember what River once said to me in the cabin, before we agreed to our arrangement. Better be careful, Rain. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. And while those words ring home, it was what he followed up with that is the real kick in the nuts. You’ll be falling in love with me before you know it. Fuck. He made us a self-fulfilling prophecy, ensuring we really did blur the lines between love and hate after all. His scoff brings me back from my reverie, forcing my eyes to rise and clash with his. Harsh and gruff, he spits his next words at me, seething. “Far be it for me to expect you to give a shit about anyone but yourself.” The words hit me like a freight train, and I almost fucking laugh at the irony behind them. I’m doing this because I care, mo grá. I care about you, about your safety, more than I do about my own happiness. I only wish he could see that. Tears prick behind my eyes, but I force them back, looking up at the ceiling. I have to do this. There’s no other option anymore. No matter how much I want to drop to my knees and beg him to stay. Tell him I was lying before. None of it is true. Every word I’ve spoken, every look of disgust or indifference, was just another wall I know he’s strong enough to break down or climb. He has to know I would gladly give my life if only to make sure nothing bad ever happens to him. But. He. Can’t. Know. If he did, he’d only fight for us harder, demand more truths I’m not willing to give him. Pieces of me I might never be able to reveal. But even so, he has to be blind to not see I’m in love with him. My eyes flick to his and I bite back a sob when I see how fucking shattered his expression is right now. “Just go. Go, and don’t come back.” It’s the last thing I want, the furthest thing from what I need. Which is why the next words leaving my mouth might be the most colossal lie of all. “I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” His eyes search mine, for what, I’m not sure, before ru Over the course of knowing each other, I’ve seen him take hits on the field that would send lesser men packing. Watched him get harassed by his father because of his sexual orientation. Personally made him my very own punching back to use and fuck and fuck with whenever I deemed fitting. But I’ve never seen him look this defeated. Something inside me fucking snaps, causing me to turn away like the coward I am. I can’t do this. I can’t look at him as I break his fucking heart. Not when I want to be the one he trusts to hold onto it forever. The tell-tale sound of the door opening signals he’s finally learned to listen and is leaving, but the sound of his footsteps pause. His relenting sigh fills the room before he speaks, effectively cutting me with his words. “I didn’t want to fix you, only save you from your nightmares. Too bad I didn’t realize the real nightmare is you.” And then he goes, like I fucking asked, the door slamming shut behind him. Leaving me in the empty space surrounding me like I once left him in that shower. Bloody and fractured beyond repair.