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“It probably is nuts,” I agreed, “but you know what? Every woman has a breaking point, and you standing inmyshit uninvited talking aboutat least she listens? That’s mine. Clearly you’re here to fight, and I’m ready to shoot.”
I didn’t get a chance though.
He was on me before I even realized what was happening, disarming me and pinning my arms again; only this time, he made sure my back was against a wall.
No leverage for head-butting.
“I didnotcome here to fight with you,” he insisted, still smelling like whatever he’d been drinking with Margeaux, which only made me feelmoreirate.
I scoffed. “Then why are you?”
“Because you won’tlisten?”
“What do I need to hear, huh? Some bullshit about how it’snot like thatwith her?”
“It’snotlike that,” he growled, unfazed by my attempts to get free of the trap he had me in, between his body and the wall. “But… no.”
“What then, huh?! What do you have to say that’s so important?”
“I love you.”
I stopped moving, to stare at him.
“What?”
He let my arms go, but planted his hands against the wall on either side of me, so I still wasn’t going anywhere. I had to stay exactly where I was, under his penetrating gaze, while he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine to repeat to himself.
“I said…I love you.” He huffed out a small sigh. “I don’t know… when we had a chance for all that, when that happened.”
“I’m supposed to believe you mean that?”
He frowned. “Why would I say it if I didn’t?”
“You said you were going to stay, too. Said you were going to try. But then…”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not,” I argued. “It’s telling me what you think I want to hear and then switching up on me.”
“There ain’t no switch up,” he countered. “There was never a switch up, just… damn, a nigga can’t get…”
“What?”
“Scared.”
“I never said you couldn’t,” I told him, bringing my hands to his face. “I just don’t want you to let that feeling win.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked. “I had my moment but I’mhere.And you’re right, if it’s about doing it for me… I’m not really seeing that right now, but… I can do it for you.”
I sighed. “But I want you to do it foryou. I wish you could see what I see.”
“You’re pushing it.”
“I know.” I half-laughed, half-sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’msorry,” he countered. “The very last thing I intended to do was hurt you. I put a gun to myown headrather than hurt you. So for you to think Margeaux is even a thing… I mean… I understand, butno.Never.”
“I know,” I admitted. “She’s just… it’s not even about the fact that she’s beautiful. I’m beautiful, that doesn’t mean anything. But she’s…somuch cooler than everybody else,” I said. “She’s such a bad bitch.”
