Page 53 of Hated By the Gargoyle

“I hope so.”

Lourdes smiled. “Give it time. In the meantime, let’s get your wrists wrapped and then we can take you back home. Is that alright?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah,” I agreed. “I want to go home.”

I needed to think about things.

Qanek wasn’t evil. He’d done a bad thing, one that was in poor judgment and had resulted in me getting hurt. But I knew he’d been hurting as well. Something had overtaken his mind. Not just rage, but… something deeper. Some trauma that blinded him to reality. I was angry, hurt, yet I wanted to forgive him.

I loved him. And it was in that love that I hoped he could find a chance to heal.

And maybe Lourdes was right.

Maybe everything would be alright.

Many months later…

I sat at the coffee shop, fiddling with the memory stick in my hand. Despite my resolve, and what I knew I had to do, I felt a small ball of nerves at the pit of my stomach. No matter my determination, that was a sensation I feared would never go away. The anxiety of displeasing people.

But boundaries needed to be set.

And it was high time I stood up for myself.

I looked up when Carlota approached, looking as stunning as usual. She took a seat in front of me, staring me up and down. I waited for her to say something. Anything. After all, she’d witnessed my kidnapping and hadn’t seen me for months. Sure, I’d been home for a while, but I hadn’t contacted her at all.

In fact, I’d come home to realize that she hadn’t even reported me missing.

I’d come home to realize that nobody really gave a fuck that I was gone.

It was eye-opening, to say the least.

“Are those my pictures?” She flipped her hair and reached for the memory stick in my fingers.

I pulled it just out of her grasp and she shot me a confused look. “Really, Carlota?” I sighed. “You haven’t seen me for months and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

Her plucked brows furrowed together. “What? It’s not like you died or anything. You’re here. You’re obviously okay. What, do you want me to throw you a pity party?”

Not a pity party, but I wanted something.

“I want you to be a good friend,” I countered, feeling anger rise up.

I’d called her the day before and asked her to meet me here. So I could give her her photos, and so I could say all that I needed to say.

Because the truth was, being in Qanek’s vicinity and then afterwards meeting Dolores, Mia, and Lourdes, I knew something in my life had to change.

Starting with this.

“I am your only friend,” she said with exasperation and an eyeroll. “Nobody else likes you.”

Those words would have hurt me once. They didn’t now because I knew they weren’t true. It wasn’t that people didn’t like me, it’s that they never took the time to get to know me. It’s that I never accepted healthy relationships before and had tethered myself to a single toxic person out of fear of being abandoned.

But Dolores and Mia were friends. They were good friends, even if talking to them hurt. Talking to them reminded me too much of their gargoyle husbands… and that I was without one.

“You aren’t a good friend.” My patience had frayed. “You’ve never been. You use me at your convenience, and you manipulate and abuse me and think it’s okay, but it’s not. And I’m tired of being your little slave, doing everything you want without receiving an ounce of respect in return.”

Carlota scoffed. “So, what, are you going to cut me off?”

I smiled and it seemed to unnerve her, because she sat back with wide eyes.