Tell her something came up at Moonshine or make up another fucking excuse. Don’t fucking hurt her.
“Then why are you leaving when we haven’t seen the last tent?”
The genuine soft expression on her face was a weakness. My blood was boiling, but not because of her.
Eda.
My dad.
Eomma.
Her parents.
The truth.
All of it simmered religiously on my tongue and like a prayer, it stayed there because it didn’t know what higher entity to pray to.
“Why the fuck were you apologising to Eda about our marriage?” I snapped.
Adelaide staggered backwards.
If I could steal her, put her in my pocket, and hide her from the world, I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.
She shot me a piercing glare. “The conversations I have with her are none of your business.”
“They are when it’s about our marriage.” I didn’t mean this shit. I had to leave before I made this worse.
Adelaide pulled at her sleeves. “She’s a parental figure in my life and I love her. I broke her heart by marrying you, okay? She didn’t want this for me.”
“So the fuck what? You aren’t hers to control.”
“I owe her mylife, Christian,” she exasperated by running a hand through her perfectly styled hair. “She took me in when my parents died. Bathed me, fed me, andlovedme when no one else did. I owe everything to her.”
Tell her, Christian. Now’s the time.
Instead, my emotions exploded in pure fucking agony and fire and so much yearning I couldn’t yield it back in. “Iloved you! I was young and stupid and so fucking awkward, but Ilovedyou. My mom loved you. Did you fucking forget that?”
“Of course, I didn’t but?—”
“For someone who thinks so damn much, you don’t think at all.”
Adelaide went cold. “You don’t knowjackshitabout my anxiety.”
“Really?” I raised a condescending brow. “Please do tell me.”
“It was because of our breakup, you asshole!” Tears wallowed in her pearly blues.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“The moment you forced me to walk out of your life, my thoughts started having thoughts and my anxiety had its own anxiety. I questioned every damn day whether I was good enough.”
Every bad fucking thing in her life somehow started with me.
My throat constricted, trapping the air into my lungs, and blowing it up from within.
“I’m not blaming you,” she continued. “My anxiety stemmed from many situations, but the breakup was the main one. It sucks. It really sucks because the only time mybrain shuts up is when I’m with you. So please, stop. Can’t we just go back to having a good time?”
My heart did a fucking skip and wanted to forget about this. About whatever lividity or thoughts were lurking and attaching themselves to my existence.
Instead, being the horrible bastard I was, all that came out of my fucking month was, “I’ll think about it if you get down on your knees and beg.”
