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“Haven't I told you to stop smoking?” she chides.
I groan, feeling the signs of a growing headache. “Will you quit nagging me?”
“I'm only going to stop complaining when you man up. Do you think drinking away your problems is going to solve the mess you created? Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but it won't. You will just wake up feeling worse tomorrow.” She gives me a sympathetic look.
“So, what do you suggest I do? Since you seem to know it all.”
“Man up,” she states like it’s obvious.
“You do realize who you are talking to?” I’m not quite sure what she’s getting at.
“Yes, that's why I'm telling you the truth.” I roll my eyes, but she continues. “I was more worried about Gianna getting hurt when I found out about the two of you. I never thought I would see you hurt over this.”
I straighten up. “Why were you more worried about her?”
She palms her forehead and shakes her head. “You two fit each other so well. You both can't see what everyone sees.” When she saw the still confused look on my face, she sighed. “You love her, don't you?”
My heart stills, “What are you?—”
“You fell in love with her.” She says it like it’s obvious.
Love.
Her words ring in my mind as I try to comprehend it.
It was an emotion I had never given much thought to. An emotion I locked my heart away from.
In the beginning, I thought she was disposable. But she soon became a place where I ran to whenever I wanted to feel accepted, alive, and, I guess, loved.
But somewhere along the way, I stumbled and fell. Falling for the girl who loved me even before I knew what love was had brought my cold heart so much warmth.
I can no longer avoid the bidding of my heart.
I'm in love with Gianna.
With shaking fingers, there's a mixture of warmth and pain rising in my chest.
“Fuck,” I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of the revelation settle.
Nala sits beside me and rubs my back in a soothing manner. “It's okay.”
I snap my head up. “It's not okay. How could I have not known?”
She smiles. “We both know you suck when it comes to dealing with your emotions.”
“Shit,” I stand up, feeling fuzzy and a little unsteady at the sudden action. I start to pace the room.
“She thinks I don't care about her,” I say. “She thinks all this is just a simple fling to me.”
Nala nods. “Rightfully so. You haven't proven to her that you are capable of or interested in anything else.”
I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “How could I when I didn't know?”
She grabs my right hand, halting me, and places hers on it. “Now you know. It's not too late. You just have to tell her.”
“So she can slam the door in my face? I doubt she even feels the same.”
“She does,” my sister says without hesitation.
