I opted for a pair of thrifted cargo pants and a plain long-sleeved shirt. I decided to layer it with one of my favorite graphic tees and turned to face Enoch.
“No. No I don’t. I don’t understand how you could still want to be around me. How you don’t hate me. Or hate my inability to not be selfish. I’m still being selfish, Enoch. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have let you come up. I shouldn’t have slept beside you. Just because I want something doesn’t mean that I should have it. And you don’t deserve to be shackled to all this mess.”
Enoch sat up. “Shy. I don’t hate you. Never could. Never will. Even if you woke up one day and decided that you didn’t want this, I still couldn’t hate you. You want me to believe what you think about yourself, but I won’t. I’m sorry if that’s easier for you, but you don’t get to dictate how I feel about you. I told you to be selfish, because I, honestly, don’t think you’re nearlyas selfish as you should be. You want to stay friends? I’ll be the best damn friend you could ever ask for. You want more? I’m already yours. You don’t even have to ask, just take. But please, stop trying to carry the weight of guilt for things that I’ve already forgiven you for. My mind isn’t going to change how I feel about you, today, tomorrow, a year from now. Shiloh, I will always love, regardless of how you feel about me, or the things that you decide to share with me about your past. Because they do not define who you are today.”
I stared, teeth biting into my lip for a spark of pain to ground me.
“So, go. Have some fun with your friends, take a minute to think about what it is you really want, and I’ll still be here whatever you decide. If I’m honest, Shiloh, I don’t think WITSEC is going to move you again, and I don’t think that you actually want to leave either. Otherwise, why did you get into my car yesterday? And why did you stay?”
The urge to kick him out, to scream at him, to fight back against his demands, against his too keen deductions of my inner thoughts, was too strong. I shook my head, hands fisting in my clothes. My chest hurt and the words slipped out before I could take them back.
“I hate you.”
Enoch blinked, letting my words fall over the room like a weighted blanket. “I love you.”
My jaw clenched, annoyed that he didn’t believe me, even though I didn’t even believe the words myself. “You ruined everything. I was happy before you showed up, and you’re sticking to me like a fucking cancer. You’re delusional and you’re hurting me right now by refusing to let me go. This hurts, Enoch! Please, if you actually love me, you’ll stop hurting me and let. Me. Go.”
He cleared his throat, fluffing the pillow behind him until he was laying more comfortably in my bed.
“No,” he said simply, holding my stare. “I’m sorry if this hurts, to face the truth, to have someone tell you that you’re wrong, to break this curse of lies you’ve let everyone else believe about you. But I will not let you self-destruct alone.”
I screamed, stomping my foot like a child. My breath caught in my lungs and the tears were imminent. I furiously rubbed my eyes with my finger and thumb, forcing myself to not show my weakness.
“I hate you,” I whispered, the lie bitter on my tongue.
“And I still love you.”
I threw my clothes across the room, sucking in some air, willing myself not to reach panic-attack territory. I muttered obscenities under my breath until the lump in my throat was gone and I could breathe again.
“You win,” I muttered, planting my feet. “You win, alright. WITSEC isn’t going to move me. I don’t have to leave town. Now can you go?”
He shook his head, looking rather comfortable laying on top of my unmade bed. I growled in frustration once again and he opened his arms, curling his fingers, beckoning me to join him on the bed.
And I wanted to, like hell I wanted to. Because whatever place I’d found myself in, this was definitely not heaven. It was torture. Having everything I ever wanted in arms reach but be completely aware of how utterly undeserving of it I was, was pure torture.
I guessed it was a good thing I was a masochist.
I dragged my heavy feet to my bed, stiffly laying onto my side, flinching as Enoch rolled me to face him, leaving his arm around my back. He pulled me into his chest.
“I still love you.”
I ground my teeth, fisting my hand in his shirt.
I didn’t know how much time had passed before my muscles started to relax. Before my jaw released and my shoulders dropped, my limbs melting against the warmth of his body.
I was nearly falling asleep when his phone started vibrating in his back pocket.
“Sorry,” he whispered, reaching into it to silence the call. I started to roll away, but he replaced his arm across my shoulders, holding my head to his chest. He breathed deeply and sighed. “You feeling a little bit better? Got it out of your system or you wanna shout some more?”
I cringed and he massaged the base of my skull.
“I…Forgive m—”
“Stop,” he said, shaking his head against mine. “You don’t need forgiveness for every little thing. I know…” Enoch chuckled softly, “I know I used to give you shit about apologizing, but it’s okay, Shy. I know you didn’t mean what you said. I know you were just trying to push me away. So, no need for apologies.”
I sighed, wishing he was right. Wishing the reason I was so obsessed with forgiveness was because of him, but it wasn’t.
“Okay. Um, to answer your question, I don’t feel like shouting anymore.”
