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After pacing around the room for a couple more moments, I stopped at the window and glared out of it, my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I physically felt sick. My stomach twisted in knots, body heat rising.
What if those were messages from other guys she had met online?
The thoughts themselves were comfortable in a weird way. They were filled with anxiety, but I had thought them so many times that all those what-ifs were more comfortable than the thoughts I knew to be true—Imani wouldn’t do that.
Still, no matter how much I wanted to puke up my dinner, I stayed glued to the spot.
Imani came out of the bathroom a couple moments later with her hair wrapped up and cream on the blemishes on her face. Brows drawn together, she hurried over to me. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing.”
I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want her to hate me for being so insecure.
“Why do you look like you’re going to puke then?”
“I’m anxious.”
She widened her eyes even more and moved closer. “About what? Landon, tell me. What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this before. You’re scaring me.”
After a couple moments of silence, I finally came out with it. The pressure and anxiety were building up too fast and too heavily for me to hold it in. I would either come out and say it or burst into tears.
“Your messages,” I whispered.
“Messages?” she asked, confusion written all over her face. “What messages?”
“On your computer.”
Looking over her shoulder, she widened her eyes. “Did you look at them?”
“No!” I said quickly, so she wouldn’t think I snooped on her again. “I just … I don’t want to lose you, and I … I’m so fucking insecure about this, about us. I don’t even know what we are, don’t know if you want there to be an us. And … And I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry that I’m this way,” I said again, tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m sorry that I can’t stop thinking like this. There’s something wrong with me. But I’m working on it—I promise I am. I’m trying to be better for you, Imani, but it’s so hard.”
Imani widened her eyes and pulled me to the bed and onto her lap, gently stroking my hair. “Landon, you don’t have to be sorry, and there’s nothing wrong with you.” She kissed my forehead. “I don’t understand why you … why you don’t trust me.”
I tensed in her arms and wanted so desperately to disappear. Everything in my life, up until her and Poison, had fucked me over. I wanted to forget about it all and start over; I wanted to feel something else other than hurt and pain and anxiousness all the time.
“Please, talk to me, Landon.”
I didn’t want to tell her. I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to look at me any differently, and I … I hated thinking about it. I’d rather bottle it all up and deal with it myself, on my own terms, by shoving my fist into another corrupt teacher’s skull.
But I took a leap of faith because that was what Imani had done with me.
“My mom,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper. “My parents … they … they …”
“They what?” Imani asked, eyes growing even wider. Tears threatened to spill out of them.
“They abuse me.”
The words stung on my tongue. They made me feel and seem so fucking weak. I had never said them aloud before, and besides Misty, nobody else knew about what Dad did to me, except João and Kai.
Imani was the only other person I had ever told.
“My mom cheats on my dad, and my dad always, always puts her down and looks through her phone. When he gets really bad, he hits me. And my mom is no better. She … she hit me for the first time last night.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I never feel good enough for anyone.”
She stared at me, unblinking, for the longest time. And then when she finally did blink, tears spilled down her cheeks. She pushed them away quickly, but more ran down her face. “I’m so sorry. Oh God, Landon, I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve never …” She stared down between us, bottom lip trembling, then gently grasped my face. “I would’ve never slapped you.”
My body heaved back and forth, and I pressed my lips together so tightly, so no cries would come out. I hated feeling fucking weak like this. I wanted to take care of myself. I didn’t want anyone to feel bad for me, especially Imani.
But I couldn’t stop the tears, and I couldn’t stop the cries tumbling past my lips. Imani held me tighter to her, resting my head above her heart, and I listened to the quiet and rapid thump. She pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress her cries and pulled me even closer somehow.
“I’m so sorry. You should never have to go through that.”
“If you stay with me, Imani, I’m going to fuck you up.”
“Don’t say that,” she scolded, forcing me to look into her big brown eyes. “You’re the only person I care about anymore. I can’t lose you.”
