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“Marnix?” With the way he’s looking at me, I’m feeling insecure—something I’m not used to.
“Fuck! Fuck. This was a mistake.” His words cut me deeper than I’d like to admit.
“Marnix, please.” I’m begging, because I see the way he’s acting. I see the danger, the regret, the pain in his eyes. I see the hate, but I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or himself.
Instead of responding, he looks at me one last time before spinning around and storming out of the room. The door closes behind him with a bang, causing me to flinch.
He’s left me here, panting, wanting, needing his skin against mine. He’s left me feeling like I’m trash. Like I’m not worthy of his time. Like I’m a mistake. I don’t know if that was his plan all along, but it’s fucking worked.
A small sob escapes me as I lower myself from the desk to pick up my discarded top. I’ll never be good enough for a man like Marnix Taylor. I shouldn’t even care, but the pain of this self-doubt cracks through my chest.
None of what just happened was real.
He was drunk.
Shaking my head, I remind myself why I’m doing this. I can’t let the confusing feelings get the best of me. Marnix Taylor does not have the power to control my emotions. He does not have the power to control me.
No man will ever have that power over me again.
