What?
“What, why?” I ask, confused.
“Get the fuck out Juliette.” Comes her cold response. Her neck and face red, her hands shaking. What?
“What's wrong?” I ask concerned, trying to walk closer to her, but she moves back.
She sighs angrily. “I lost my headphones.”
“So…buy another pair?”
Now I know not everyone is as rich as me, but surely, she can go buy another pair of headphones? I'll buy them for her if it stops her from stressing this much over something trivial.
That clearly wasn't the right response because she shoots daggers my way. “I can't. They were special.”
I sigh defeated, not wanting to argue with her. “Okay. Well, let me help you look.”
“No, I don't need your help.” Suddenly her voice begins rising. “This is all your fucking fault anyway.”
“My fault? How is it my fault?”
“Because I let you stay and I fell asleep without my headphones! I never do that.”
She didn't seem to have a problem when she was cuddling up to me in the night.
“You said I could stay,” I retort back to her nonsense.
“Clearly that was a mistake.” She spits out coldly.
I can't help the tiny tear that attacks my heart at her words. She looks so livid, so undeniably stressed, but that doesn't mean she means what she's saying…does it?
I narrow my eyes angrily. “Why? Because you're having a temper tantrum about something?”
“Fuck off,” she responds, half-assed, turning her body away from me.
I groan, taking hold of her arm and turning her back to me. “Just grow up and tell me what's wrong. Talk to me.”
She's so blunt, so unashamed with everything else, but when it comes to her own feelings, she's a brick wall.
She scoffs. “Oh yeah, like we're both known for our excellent communication skills.” She yanks her hand out of my grip.
“Well, let's change that then. Stop being a bitch and tell me what's wrong.”
“Get out!” she repeats, this time in a scream and I've just about had enough.
I'm not going to sit here and beg for her to tell me what's wrong. I grab my phone from her bed and stalk out of the room, down the stairs and to the front door. I put my shoes on and grab my car keys, as soon as I step out of the door, I realize how cold it is—I'm not even wearing any trousers.
I walk towards my car and before I can open it, the cold snaps me back to my senses. What am I doing? Am I really leaving Adaline right now when she clearly needs me? She won't admit it, but she does.
She just forgave me, even after I was a bitch to her, not to mention how mind numbingly horrendous I have been to her over the years. Yet, I'm here ready to leave because she was a little rude?
Spending the last week avoiding her was torture, now that I have her back, I'm not letting her go this easy.
I sigh deeply and slam my hands on my car door trying to alleviate my frustrations, then I walk back into her house. As soon as I close the door behind me, for some reason, I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My stomach drops even further as I walk up the stairs and it scares me. Every step I take towards her bedroom is the same and when I enter again, my mind goes into autopilot.
Adaline is on her knees, hyperventilating, with her head in her shaky hands.
