God, I wish Vince was here.
Ted's rant continues, his voice rising with every accusation. "You disappear with Vince all the time, act like you're aboveeveryone else! You think I deserved that? You think Sam deserved that? You just throw people away, Andrew, like they're nothing. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Let go of me," I say, my voice low and steady despite the fear churning inside me. "Get the hell out of my apartment."
He leans in closer, his breath hot on my face. "No. I'm not leaving, and neither are you."
Before I can process his words, he steps back, winding up for a punch.
The motion catches me off guard, and I barely have time to react.
His fist swings wide, aiming for my face, but I drop to the floor, twisting his grip on my arm and yanking him down with me.We hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, wrestling for control.
Ted curses, his weight pressing me into the floor.
"I have evidenceyou were cheating with Vince, Andrew," he hisses. "We're not done here."
I see red. Evidence? What the hell does he think gives him the right to break into my home, attack me, and act like he's the victim?
"You think you can just walk in here and do this?" The words rip from my throat as I shove against him with everything I have. "You're fucking insane, Ted! Do you hear yourself?"
His grip vanishes. I watch in horror ashe stands above me andhis boot lifts, his leg coiling like a spring.
Instinct takes over. I don't think—I move, exploding upward with a raw fury I didn't know I possessed. My shoulder drives into hisgut, and he folds around me with a wheezing gasp as we topple sideways. The coffee table skids across the hardwood.
I landacrosshis chest.I pin him down.My fist finds his jaw. Again. And again.
Each impact sends a shockwave up my arm, but I don't stop.
I can't.
Each hit unleashes a torrent of emotion I don't even realize I've been holding back. Years of frustration, disappointment, and pain pour out with every swing. Brian leaving me. My family'sabandonment. Dropping out of grad school.Falling into my depression.The mountain of debt I'm still clawing my way out of. And now this... Ted, thinking he has any power over me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a rational voice tries to pull me back.
This isn't therapy. This isn't productive. Hitting Ted won't fix anything.
But I'm not thinking rationally. Not now.
"Andrew!"
Ted's voice breaks through my haze.
I pause, my fist hovering mid-air. He's gasping beneath me, his face bloody and swollen. For a moment, I don't recognize the man I've spent months with. He looks small. Weak. Pathetic.
And then I see his leg shift. The glint of desperation in his eye.
Ted takes advantage of my distraction, regaining the upper hand. His nose and lip are bloodied, his eyes burning with an anger that chills me. He reaches up, grabbing my hair, and yanks me down beside him.
I barely have time to process what's happening before he crawls on top of me, shoving my face into the rug.
It's then I realize I'm not unscathed... I glance at my right hand and see my knuckles are torn and raw. I musthave been hitting him harder and longer than I realized.
I claw at his arm, trying to loosen his grip, but he doesn't let up.
Just as the tension in my chest is about to explode, there's a knock at the door.It's loud, insistent, cutting through the chaos like a divine intervention.
Ted freezes, his grip loosening slightly.
