And yeah, I was being a bitch, with a purpose.
His eyes narrowed.
I figured Gabe didn’t miss much, and he certainly wasn’t missing I was being a bitch.
And maybe because I was being such a bitch, he laid it out and laid me out doing it.
“So some clown plays you, and just to say, you weren’t the only one who fell for his shit. You and your women have been investigating him and his bro for months, so you know that even better than me. He cons you…and by the fucking way, the ‘con’ part of that stands for ‘confidence,’ and if you let his bullshit change you, you’re letting him win that game too…you allow yourself to become bitter and paint all men with his brush, that”—he lifted a very attractive, strong, veined hand with a long, square-ended finger jabbing my way (a hand I had more than once, even before his guarding-my-body gig started, fantasized doing many lovely (and naughty) things to me)—“that is on you. It isn’t on him, babe. It is one hundred percent on you.”
And um…
Yeah.
I was definitely getting ticked.
“Right, Gabe,” I snapped. “How about you put yourself in my shoes and tell me how you’d play this.” I leaned back, threw my arms out and went on snidely, “Oh, I forgot, you’re a man. Stiff upper lip, fuck her for being a bitch and onward. Right? I’m just being a girl by giving a shit how this affects me and everyone I love. Right?”
“You think I haven’t been played?”
I blinked, shocked at this knowledge.
Hurt at this knowledge.
Hurt…for him.
And I’d missed something else.
I’d taken it too far.
Way too far.
I knew that by the stiff way he was prowling to the door, like he was holding himself in check, like if he let loose…
What?
He’d tear into me?
He’d share with me?
He’d expose his emotions to me?
God, I wanted to know what he was holding back like I wanted to unlock the secret to keeping a cake fresh and moist for more than a few days.
But I wasn’t going to get that.
Because I’d squandered it.
He yanked open the door, but turned to me, and landed the hammer.
“Go ahead, Willow. Bury yourself in his shit. That’s weak and cowardly and stupid as all fuck. But it’s safe. Maybe one day you’ll open yourself up enough to find a man who does not come close to doing it for you. But he won’t challenge you, he’ll bore the absolute piss out of you. And you’ll be so mired in your spinelessness, you’ll convince yourself it’s all good when it’s shit. And you’ll know, deep down, where you’ll never have the courage to go, you fucked up. You lost your shot. You blew it. And you’ll blame Kevin and all those other guys, but it’s all you, babe. It’s all fuckin’ you.”
With that, he slammed the door.
And he was gone.
But I stood in my living room with my cheap furniture mixed with the thrifted stuff, staring at the door, my guts on the floor, my heart shredded.
Eviscerated.
