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“Please, please don’t go,” I say. See prior statement about how I feel when he’s out of my sight.
“Trust me, you don’t want me here right now.”
“Trust me, I do. I very much do.”
“You remember that time I nearly killed you? I’m about at that level.”
“I get that.”
His blue eyes flash with barely contained rage. “I’m not sure you do.”
I swallow. Hard. This man confessed love for me, and I just insulted him to his face. While he might not actually want to strangle me to death right now, I think I might understand that I’ve pushed a whole other button with a whole other set of violent responses attached to it. Things that would hurt me way worse than a little choking.
“Okay,” I whisper, stepping aside. This is so bad already. I can’t afford to make it worse.
“Thank you,” he says walking past me to the stairs.
“Is this it?” I ask. I can’t help it. If I’m losing him for good, it’s probably better to know now.
“That’s up to you, Peach.”
I have never liked that nickname, and I just now realize why. It’s because it’s about my body. Not me. He uses it to put me in my place as an object—of his desire—sure—and it’s way punchier than Olivier, but Peach is a dig. Kind of like “slut,” which can be sexy in the right context, but can also slap hard.
“I know where you work, you know,” I say, meaning it like—he’s not gonna get away from me that easy, but the way he whips around and puts his finger in my face has me stumbling back a step.
“If you fuck with my job, I will tell everyone in this town exactly what you were doing when you went missing from your fucking party last night. Do you understand me?”
I press my lips shut and close my eyes, trembling everywhere. I nod. I knew I should have shut the fuck up.
“Fuck you,” he hisses. “Jesus.”
I don’t open my eyes again until I hear the door slam. Elodie is halfway up the stairs by the time I start heading back down. “What happened?”
God, her eye. I am ruining everything decent left in my life, and I’m too stupid and maladjusted to stop.
“Last night he told me he was falling in love with me, and today I kicked him in the fucking face.”
“He told you what?”
I sit on the stairs, and she plops down beside me. “I couldn’t believe it either.”
“I mean, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”
“Something changed in the last couple of days. Something major. Like, I feel it, too.”
“You’re in love, Ollie?”
“I can’t be,” I whisper. “And I wish he never said it.”
“I don’t believe that,” she says softly, leaning her arm into mine.
“Do you ever think you’ll fall in love?”
“I never want to,” she says. “My dad loved my mom. When he lost her, he turned into a monster. Kinda taught me early that it’s something to avoid. I think he hits me because he’s mad she left him.”
“She…died, though, right?”
“What difference does it make? She’s gone, and he couldn’t do shit about it.” She takes a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to cry anymore tonight. Let’s get drunk and figure out how to make money.”
