He could be the evil twin.
This is like a bad Disney movie.
“I didn’t know you were with my brother until about six months later. My assistant asked who thegirlwas, and I had no idea what she was talking about. It was an Instagram post of the two of you that had apparently gone viral?—”
“And,still, you never approached me to set me straight.” I can feel my blood boiling inside my head like a kettle screaming it’s hot and ready to explode. “You don’t need to explain why you never showed up. It obviously wasn’t that serious if everything you’re saying is true.”
“Why wouldn’t it be true?”
“Because you’ve already deceived me. Why would I trust anything that came out of your mouth?” He actually smirks at that. Like this is some big joke where, apparently, I’m the butt of it. “I’m so happy you’re amused, Bronte. Really. It’s been a real pleasure having you misled me.”
“It’s not that, Daydream,” he muses slightly. “It’s that I love when you’re mad.”
Who saysthat?
A wacko.
A sociopath.
Alunatic.
“Youlikeit when I’m mad,” I leer, balling my fingers into fists. “Well, let me tell you something?—”
“There’s more,” he cuts. “You may want to hold your anger until I’m done.”
Hard pass.
“Take me homenow.”
He slowly shakes his head. “Not until you’ve heard every single thing I have to say and why I did?—”
“Youliedto me.”
“I did.”
I balk at him. “And I’m supposed to fall on my knees andthank you?”
“On the contrary, Daydream, it should be me who should get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. I know what I did is borderline unforgivable, but I know you could handle it, eventually. You’re resilient and smart. You just picked the wrong guy.”
“I did. I metyoufirst.”
“And youlovedme first,” he clips back, his expression now spewing with heated rage. He moves, trimming the inches between us until he’s towering over me and using said height to get his next point across. “You don’t think I wanted to correct what you’vedone? My family was in shambles after the passing of my father. Days turned into months. I was dealing with a mother who was borderline starving because she wouldn’t eat or drink. My sister stopped going to school, partying, and getting into trouble while I was the one holding shit together. Then I saw you again, and I had to know if what we shared for that brief amount of time was something more than just a pretty face and banter. News flash, it was.”
He takes another step, and I find myself equally entranced by what he’s saying and the way he focuses solely on me.
“I spent every spare day I could near you, but I didn’t have the luxury. You were too deep with Bobby, and I was going to tap out, let you live happily ever fucking after, until I discovered his whore, Jolene. Then, I did what I said I wasn’t going to do, and I looked into the family that abandoned and shipped my ass off to Switzerland at sixteen. You, Daydream, were clickbait. You were everything my family was going to use to get Bobby’s perfect little fucked up world in line. He’s been fucking random bitches for years behind your back, but I wasn’t just going to steal you, Meirna. I was going to steal you, make you mine, then blow up their world into a thousand pieces so you could watch itburn. Then…and only fuckin’ then, would I give you the choice to stay mine or betakenas mine.”
My breathing slows on autopilot. There was so much in that monologue that all I got was clickbait, fucking bitches, andmine.
A forceful or chosenmine.
I don’t know which to settle on first. Which one to dissect and throw under a microscope.
All I know is that he made me feel worse if that were humanly possible.
“I hate you,” I mutter, feeling my body shake uncontrollably as I try to process and manage this new information on my own. “Let me go.”
“I can’t,” he returns simply, not sounding at all empathetic to my impending nervous breakdown. “Because you wouldn’t letmego, Meirna. I know enough about you to know you want me. Bobby was my fill-in. His proposal was shit and public, but I gave you the wedding you deserved?—”
