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She needs it, and I deserve it.
“Get out.”
I don’t want to.
There’s nothing in this world I want less than to leave her right now. But Eve has so little control over her life and I refuse to be something, someone else, that she has to fight for her right to exist the way she chooses.
So, I nod, choking back the words on my tongue and the emotions in my throat, like always. Turning my back to her, I step into the bathroom that connects our rooms. I may be leaving her, but I’m not going far.
“I’m so sorry, Eve,” I say, hoping she hears the honesty in my voice.
As I twist the handle to my bathroom door, she leaves me with a parting jab that hits its intended mark, making my eyes burn.
“I’ll never understand how it’s so easy for you to keep turning your back on me, Roman. Never.”
I’ll never understand how it’s so easy for you to keep turning your back on me.
Her words, the look on her face, have haunted me. The rice between the floorboards, Isaac’s dark presence throughout the house, has haunted me.
Not being there to protect her has haunted me.
The little to-go boxes are hot as I pull them from the plastic bag, setting them on the counter. The salty, spicy, MSG-scented food wafts through the kitchen. I don’t care if Isaac hates it. It’s Eve’s favorite, and she needs comfort right now.
It’s been a week since the party, and I haven’t left the house. Not once. I’ve canceled all my appointments at Deliverance, Chase packed me a bag full of enough clothes to last me forever, and I’ve settled in here like it’s my new fucking home instead of the dungeon it’s always been.
I refuse to leave her again.
I’ll never understand how it’s so easy for you to keep turning your back on me.
I swallow down the emotions that have threatened to spill over since I left her in the bathroom that day, covered head to toe in black sweats. Every day since, she’s been in sweats, or leggings, or a hoodie so fucking big its more of a dress than anything else. It’s the closest she’s gotten to her usual flowy dresses, and it’s fucking killing me.
Every time I see her in black, it slaughters another part of my soul. Every time I see her with her hair up, her face completely makeup free, her dresses hanging safely in her closet…
I’ll never understand how it’s so easy for you to keep turning your back on me.
The thing about her words is that they couldn’t be further from the truth. Every time I’ve left her it’s ripped me apart, absolutely shredded me into bloody ribbons, but I had to go.
I didn’t have a choice.
“What’s that smell?” Isaac’s words pull me from my thoughts, and it takes all I have not to crush the flimsy to-go box in my hands. Glancing over my shoulder at him, I find him standing too close to me. Feet apart on the other end of the kitchen, but still too close.
I ignore him as I set the final box on the counter, hiding the trembling in my hands, before moving to the cabinet. I feel him tracking me, every step I take a taunt.
“What’s that?” he grumbles, his low voice reverberating off the walls. I take a deep breath, steeling myself before looking at him again. He’s stepped closer, trapping me. Panic threatens to rise, but I force it down.
Safe.
I’m safe.
“What’s it look like?” The words are said with more confidence than I feel, and I know he can see through it. The corner of his mouth tucks up in a smirk, his eyes narrowing. I turn away, moving back to the boxes of food.
I open them, letting the stronger scent permeate the air around us. A tremor racks my hands as I serve Eve’s plate, then mine. “You know I hate it,” Isaac says bitterly, and, unable to help myself, a smile curves my lips.
“Good thing it’s not for you then,” I murmur.
He stays silent as I finish plating our food, nothing more than a looming presence at my back. The porcelain trembles as I move toward the table, my eyes lingering on the burn mark I so carelessly left.
I’ll never understand how it’s so easy for you to keep turning your back on me.
