He was.
He shut the bedroom door. Maybe he was also grabbing a morning beer; I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided this was a good time to get some alcohol. I sure could have used one.
Neither of us wanted to believe the other’s worst side was real, but here it was in all of its ugly glory. Just because Phoenix had hidden the morose, darkly afflicted side of him yesterday didn’t mean that he’d magically made it disappear entirely. In fact, if anything, it meant it was going to be uglier today than last time.
I remained in the bed for a good two minutes, just somehow hoping by the power of... I didn’t know, fucking magic, that he’d change his mind. He’d come in, say he’d thought about it, and he was sorry. Or that he’d sit on the edge of the bed, I’d find courage, and I’d apologize for not telling him earlier. But after those two minutes, the self-preservation instinct to not ride home naked kicked in, and I hurriedly put my clothes back on.
When I emerged into the living room, Phoenix was sitting on the couch—the very one we’d made out on last night—sipping, what else, a Blue Moon. The sight would have made me chuckle if not for every-fucking-thing else around it.
“Phoenix—”
“Shut up,” he growled, taking an enormous gulp of his beer. “If we talk...”
He paused. He gulped. He glared at me.
“I will lose my shit. I am so fucking tired of losing things I think will be there. I am...”
He didn’t finish his last sentence.
I felt awful. The maternal instinct in me wanted to hug him and hold him. But every bit of logic told me that was a stupid idea.
“Let’s fucking go,” he said. “Sooner I get rid of you, the better.”
“Phoe—”
I didn’t even finish his name. His glare was so intense and so strong that it shut me up. He headed for the door, and I felt like I had no choice but to follow him. Ignoring his orders was a good way to...
Well, I didn’t peg him as a violent person, but I wasn’t exactly rushing to find out the truth.
He didn’t say a word to me as I hopped on the bike and wrapped my arms around him. This in itself felt like a terrible decision, but the alternative was to risk flying off the bike. I awkwardly hovered between loosening my grip around him and tightening it at certain spots. I hoped he understood, but I wasn’t sure he wanted to understand.
Finally, we pulled up to the parking lot of Will’s Wiches, where my car was still parked. He pulled up next to it, and I hopped off.
“Phoenix, I’m sor—”
I never got to finish my words. Phoenix drove out of the parking lot in a hurry, the squeal of his tires burning my ears. I had to put my hands up to my ears, but my eyes didn’t need any adjusting to see what was happening.
Without so much as a goodbye, let alone a kiss or a promise to see me again—or, hell, just even a couple of words—Phoenix had sped out of my life.
I had nothing holding me back. I could leave now if I wanted. I could move wherever I wanted without feeling guilty.
And it left me feeling like complete shit.
