Not because he’s afraid I’ll cut him, but because he finally gets it. He finally realizes he lost something that might not be recoverable.
“I should kill you,” I murmur.
“But you won’t,” he replies, voice sure.
“No,” I say, standing. “Because I’m not you.”
I flick the blade closed and toss it to the bench. I walk past him, heart pounding, throat tight. I don’t stop until I’m back in the guest suite, slamming the bathroom door behind me.
The shower scalds my skin, but I don’t care. I slide down the tiled wall and press my fists to my eyes. The tears come before I can stop them. This is too much.He’stoo much.
∞∞∞
Johnny
I stare at my knife on the bench, wondering when things went so wrong.
It’s not the blade that shakes me. It’sher. The fire in her eyes. The certainty in her hand when she held it to my throat. The part of her that used to gravitate toward me is gone. She doesn’t love me anymore. Shehatesme. Really, truly, hates me. And the worst part? She’s right to.
I’d like to say I came in here to make things right. That the apology was sincere. That I wanted forgiveness. But that would be a lie, and she saw right through it anyway.
I didn’t come to apologize. I came to reassert control.
Unfortunately for me, she’s not the girl I left bleeding in the wreckage of our past. She’s sharper now. Steel-coated. And when she looked me in the eye and told me I didn’t mean a word of it, I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Exposed.
I thought I had the upper hand. That part of her still wanted me enough to blind her. I was wrong. The moment she pulled that knife—my knife—and pressed it to my throat without hesitation, I knew just how badly I’d fucked this up. That wasn’t a bluff or anger. That was a warning. One I earned.
I scrub a hand down my face. The mask won’t hold much longer if I keep pushing like this, and I can’t afford to slip. Not now. Not with Walter watching. Not with Joe still out there. Not with her slipping further away from me with every second Ipretend nothing’s changed.
I leave the gym on auto-pilot, following her steps without meaning to. Not to corner her. Not to shout her down. I just need to understand how far I’ve lost her. How deep the damage goes.
I hear the bathroom door slam. The lock clicks. A moment later, the water starts. Then, I hear a stifled sob. Followed by another. It slices through the air sharper than any blade I own.
I start to lift my hand toward the knob, then stop mid-motion.
What the fuck would I even say?Sorry I broke you? Sorry I let my quest for vengeance eat my humanity? Sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me?
None of it means a damn thing now. Pretty words won’t fix this. They’ll only dig the knife deeper.
I used to think pain justified everything. That grief gave me license. But hers? Her pain doesn’t erase mine. It swallows it.
I sink to the floor, back to the door, and just listen.
To her breathing.
To her crying.
To the sound of everything I destroyed, echoing through tile and steam.
I’ve broken things before. People, too. But this? This is the first time I’ve wanted to put something back together.
She’ll never believe me, and maybe she shouldn’t. If I want her to have faith in me again, I’ll have to show her. Every single day. Every single moment. No mask. No threats. No games.
For the first time in years, I don’t know how to fix something, but I know I have to try. If I don’t, I’ll lose her.
And next time, I won’t deserve to get her back.
