“I was right,” Dom said. Though his bravado was slipping. He choked on a stressed laugh. “This is the perfect scenario. You did something like this!”
“I did not—”
“How could you do something like this?”
“Now, you’re just cutting me off. Apparently, you have all the answers already and don’t need me to tell you whatever it is you think happened here,” I said.
“Oh, you’re right. I can see exactly what happened now,” Dom muttered.
“You’re psychic now?”
“You cursed me or whatever you called it with no regard to whatever was going on in someone else’s life but yours!” Dom’s voice went up another level of volume. I’d never heard him this loud before. I’d never heard him yell.
“It was a hex.”
“You don’t even deny it.”
Deny, deny, deny. I wanted to deny it. “Why bother?”
Especially when he looked at me like that. I could only imagine how much truth was written all over my face.
“You have no idea what you’ve done to me, let alone anyone in contact with me the past few weeks.”
I sighed. “I’m sure whatever unfortunate circumstances happened between you and whoever else in your life is just your sparkling personality.”
“And here I thought, it was a good thing I’d caught it early,” Dom rambled on, his hands clenching in clear irritation. “I thought it was good we hadn’t gone any further and I’d left this hole when I did. And it looks like no one else is here. They must’ve been smarter than I was to ever get involved with someone as desperate and self-absorbed as you.”
I froze where I stood. This was my space. My safe haven. Once, I’d allowed him in, and he’d made it feel warm and whole.
Now?
I walked to the door, gritting my teeth together as emotions waged war inside of me. “Get out.”
“Ana, wait. Shit.” He sighed loudly.
“What? Suddenly regretful because this didn’t turn out the way you’d thought it would? You’re right, Dom. No one is here because I’m done letting people walk all over me, like you did. I’m done listening to people I’d no longer take advice from tell me what they like and dislike about me. So, get out.”
He didn’t move.
“Get out!”
“That was bad. I know that was bad. I’m a mess.”
“I don’t care.” Or I did, but I shouldn’t.
I was done now. I didn’t need a manipulative narcissist making me feel bad.
To be honest, I was beginning to feel bad enough.
“Everything is a mess. Right when I thought I was getting things under control and where they should be, everything brings me back here, to this town and to you. I didn’t mean it like that.”
How couldn’t he have meant it? I’d once said worse things to myself every day without his help. I looked around. I’d thought I had come so far since he had left last summer, but in reality, had I?
“Please, don’t kick me out. We can figure this out. Calmly,” he added as he made his way back out the door and out of my apartment.
Shutting the door tight and twisting the lock, I pressed my back to the door. I could only imagine the calls I would probably be getting from my neighbors, who I hardly spoke to unless they had problems. The yelling. The slamming doors.
“No.”
