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I’ll talk to him when he’s sober. Better yet, I might not talk to him at all. It’s fruitless anyway. It’s not like he’d answer any of my questions like a normal human being.
He’ll just torment me some more, push me around some more, and then I’ll retaliate and it’ll turn ugly.
No, thanks.
He grabs me by my wrist – the scarred one – and forces me back against him. My breathing hitches as he dangles a pack of M&M’s in front of my face. It’s open and all the ones inside it are green.
“Why do you have green M&M’s?” I ask in a small voice.
“I found them.”
“You found them? You expect me to fall for that?”
“Yeah, and I want you to eat them.”
“I won’t.”
“Do it or I’ll turn Kirian against you. He already doesn’t trust you after he witnessed your suicide attempt.”
My lips part as I stare at him. “D-don’t.”
“Then eat them.” He shoves the M&M’s into my palm. “And don’t vomit them or I’ll shove another pack down your throat. I can do that all night.”
“But Mum –” I cut off before I blabber everything. I can’t tell him about my deal with her. My wanting to say something is a nasty habit from when we were children, where I ran to him and poured my heart out, then slept all wrapped around him.
Xander used to pat me to sleep, but now, he would just push me into a bottomless hole.
He’s not my friend anymore; he’s my enemy. I can’t let my stupid memories get the better of me.
“I don’t fucking care about Jeanine.” His gaze hardens. “Do it.”
Sometimes, I swear he loathes my mother, but he has no reason to, aside from what I used to tell him. Did I paint her like an actual monster back then?
“Xander…”
“Shut the fuck up. I told you not to say my name.” He releases my hand and motions at the pack. “Eat it.”
Keeping much-needed distance between us, I open the pack with trembling fingers. The smell of the peanut and chocolate gets me right in the nose. Considering I only had an apple today, my stomach growls with the need for a taste.
I stare up at Xander with one final plea not to have me do this. I’ll have to run or do exercises for an hour to erase the calories and I hate physical activities from the bottom of my heart.
“Hurry,” he orders.
“Damn you,” I curse him under my breath as I throw the first M&M in my mouth. My heart skips a beat at the taste, sweet with that rich chocolate flavour. It’s been so long, a year to be exact, since I last had M&M’s. Even more since I last enjoyed them.
I had them that day I lost him once and for all and since then, I haven’t been able to properly taste M&M’s or pistachio gelato.
The first piece is the hardest, the second tentative, but by the third, I’m popping them as if I’ve been dying and it’s my cure to live. I want to savour it more, to commit the taste to memory, but I’ve been starved of this joy for way too long.
No idea if it’s because a long time has passed since my last M&M or the fact that I feel Xander watching me like a hawk as I devour the entire pack.
I don’t dare look up at him and meet those eyes, or else I’d offer and share. I’d stop and ask all the questions burning inside me.
The pack is empty too soon, and the moment the last bit disappears down my throat, I feel the need to throw up.
Shit.
I ate all those calories. I need to get them out and –
