You’re not special.
All men are the same.
He’ll move on, you know.
He’ll move on.
He’ll move on.
He’ll move on.
I’m not capable of love.
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the bathroom as I tried to fight my tears. She was just trying to get in my head, trying to mess with my mind.
Beckham got into your head, too, and look where you ended up.
Right in his palm. It’s like it was only yesterday I was forcing myself to resist him. It seemed pitiful trying to deny I loved the man.
But my self-destructing thoughts wouldn’t give me a rest now, no matter how much I tried to relax my mind.
Getting dressed in one of Beckham’s button-up shirts for bed, I ran my fingers through my hair, stressed as I descended the steps. His studio was silent for the most part as I made myself a cup of tea. I anxiously looked over at the clock to see it nearing midnight as he was nowhere in sight. He was still at his father’s office to help me out of this mess, and yet here I was, second-guessing what he felt for me. All because of a homewrecker feeding me lies.
With how I’m acting, part of me wonders if he’s still the one who’s obsessed or if we’ve switched roles.
Sitting on the couch, I wiped my eyes softly, letting out something in between a cry and a laugh.
What was I even doing here? What was I even doing in general?All I seemed to do was create more problems for everyone. My loans, my marriage, my messed-up relationship with my parents, my inability to make the right decisions—it all felt like a cycle I couldn’t break. And even when things were looking up, I didn’t want to get my hopes up, knowing this could just be another one of my mistakes.
Part of me knew I was being crazy, letting my thoughts consume me. The other part began to reason with them.
Everything I built with Gavin was over. It all meant nothing. And now? Now, I established a relationship with the very man who gave me the strength to end it all.
But who’s to say he won’t leave me or find another woman like Gavin did?
He could move on...but would I?Would I ever get over a man like him? A man who learned to love a woman who didn’t deserve love? A man who worshipped the ground I walked on despite me being a mess under the surface? Despite my pushing him away time and time again? Despite all the baggage I came with. Despite my insecurities—
I looked up to see Beckham standing in front of me, crouching down to my height. His hands were on my face as he wiped away my tears. I hadn’t even noticed him come in.
“You’re home,” I whispered.
He stroked my cheek as he gazed down at me. “Flower.”
I gave him a sad smile as I shook my head. “I’m fine, just a long day.”
He took a seat beside me. “I’m sure that’s the reason you’re crying alone in the living room.”
My lips pulled into a grin as he waited for me to speak expectantly. Shrugging, I muttered, “It’s nothing—”
He cut me off. “Rosenna, tell me what’s bothering you.”
Looking away, I tried to hide my fallen tears, but Beckham’s finger turned my chin back to face him. Shuddering a breath as I looked into his gorgeous eyes, I breathed out softly.
“I’m spiraling again,” I whispered.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Flower.”
Rolling my eyes at him, annoyed, I played with the edge of his shirt on me.
