Is he serious?
“Felt like it?” I snort. “Fuckingfeltlike it?” Folding my arms across my chest, I lick my lips, trying not to snap at him. “Kyle, you’re delusional.”
Along with a number of other things.
“How many times have I said I’m sorry?” So many, but that still doesn’t mean I forgive him. “I’m sorry, Lilly. I love you.Please.” He leans in again to kiss me, resting his palm against my cheek, but I move back, shoving his hand off me.
Rubbing myhand down my face in frustration, my cheeks puff out as I exhale a breath. “If I say I forgive you, will you leave me alone,forever?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you back,” well, that isn’t happening. “Everything is so dull without you there, and my bed is so cold without you warming it up.”
“Not happening, Kyle.Never. Ever. Again.Now, fuck off!” I’m so pissed that I could feel my nails carving half-moons into my palm where I’m clenching them so hard.
“Lilly, baby—”
“No!” I yell louder than I meant to. “Don’tLilly babyme. Leave me the hell alone, Kyle. I mean it.”
“Lilly…”
“What do you want?” I’m trying my hardest to remain calm, to not punch him square in the jaw.
He steps closer to me. “I messed up,” that’s an understatement of the century. “I regret it every day, can’t we—”
“No,” I cut him off, my voice firm. “You don’t get to waltz back into my life. Not after what you did.”
His eyes soften, pleading with me. “I’ve changed,” he insists, and I have to refrain myself from laughing in his face. “I love you.”
“You love yourself,” I point out. “You love the thrill of betrayal, the taste of forbidden fruit. But I won’t be your second choice. Not anymore.”
“I can’t live without you.”
Then die.that’s what I want to say. But as much as I hate him, I can’t bring myself to wish death upon him.
“Kyle. Please. Just leave.”
He flinches. “I’ll change.”
Oh, I’ve heard that before.
“Change won’t erase the past,” I shake my head. “I’ve moved on, Kyle. Maybe you should too.” The lie comes out more easily than I expected it to.
“Moved on?” He laughs. “Like fuck you have, Lilly.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn away and reach for the door. But once again, he’s gripping my arm. “Kyle,” I growl, ripping his hand from me. “I’m going to be late for my lecture, leave.”
“You’ve moved on, yeah?” He gives me a patronizing look.
I lied, and now I’m going to have to go along with the lie. I’m going to have to fake having a boyfriend so Kyle can leave me alone, it won’t be that hard…right?
“Yes, I’ve moved on.” I confirm, trying my hardest to keep a neutral face.
But it technically isn’t a lie. I have moved on. Not with anyone else, just me, myself, and I.
“Yeah, right,” he snorts. “You could never move on from me, you’re too obsessed.”
I was obsessed,wasbeing the keyword. “Well, guess what?” I snarl at him. “I have moved on, and he’s far fucking better than you.”
To be fair, I thinkanyonewould be better than him.
