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“Except talk to me,” Atticus replies, raising an eyebrow.
And I hate him.
Because he’s right.
I sigh and walk away from the table, Fin jogging after me as I shove my feet into my shoes at the door before shrugging my coat on and storming outside the house. If she needs me gone, I’ll leave. But I’m not going further than the garden because I need to be close in case she needs me.
I can’t bring myself to leave her vicinity. I hate it.
She doesn’t deserve my love, or at least, that’s the kind of bullshit I’ve been letting my brain convince me of.
The closer we get, the more time I spend with her…
I stop a few metres from the door, and Fin raises an eyebrow.
“I love her.”
“You do?” Fin asks, sounding like he’s holding back his amusement, and I nod.
“All this time, my brain has been telling me that she doesn’t deserve my love… but I think I’ve been lying to myself,” I say, kicking a stone angrily. “I think that I’m the one who doesn’t deserve her love.”
“You’re wrong,” he says, giving me a serious look as the front door opens. “You’re both two extremely damaged people who have been shit on by other people. And, yet, you’ve somehow found your way to each other as second-chance mates.” He pushes his brown hair out of his face and smiles at me. “Don’t sit here and doubt yourself. Don’t sit here and doubt your worth. Fate let the pair of you have a second chance, with each other, something that’s extremely rare and only for those who truly deserve it.”
“And me.” The man who doesn’t deserve a second chance but was given one anyway.
He shakes his head, and I smell his sadness. “I wish you could see yourself the way everybody else does.”
“Are you getting a semi here?” I demand, looking down at his pants to make sure he’s not developing feelings for me.
No erection. But that doesn’t really make a difference.
Maybe his dick is broken like mine used to be.
Why else would he be standing here declaring his feelings for me?
Griffin rubs at his cheeks and sighs. “You’re deflecting. You need a real therapist, Cev. I’m not one.”
“Your dad is one. Doesn’t that make you sort of one?”
“And your dad was abusive,” he counters, knocking the breath out of me. How the fuck does he know that? Did his dad tell him? “Are you abusive?”
“How fucking dare you!” I roar, storming towards him. He doesn’t flinch, knowing I’m not going to hit him, but, fuck, do I wish I could. “I would never do to my child what he did to me.”
“What?” Atticus demands, and both Fin and I whirl around, not having heard him approach us. “Who fucking hurt you?”
Panic fills me, and I turn to give Fin a pleading expression, but he’s standing there with a firm resolve. He’s not going to mediate this for me.
What a fucking cunt.
He’s as pathetic as his dad was when it comes to helping me.
But is he really? Or is that my brain just trying to trick me and try to make me push everyone away again?
“Nobody,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s none of your business.”
“Everything concerning you is my business,” Atticus replies with his holier than you attitude. “Fin, could you go grab Orson please and then keep Nora company?”
“She doesn’t—” Fin starts.
