“Not everything is about you.”
There’s a pause before he replies, “You’re right. It’s not. You gonna tell me what’s going on?”
I can’t help myself. I tell myselfnotto say it, to ravel up the emotions and shove them in a box to open and deal with later, but it tumbles out of my mouth before I can get a grip.
“I don’t know. Are you going to tell me whatyourdeal is?”
The room flips upside down with tension at my question, reminding me once again that it’s none of my business.
What is the matter with me?
I need sleep. I need that and water and food and anything else that will make me feel normal.
I hate it when Sylvia lashes out at me, so why would I do it to someone else?
Pushing my reluctance aside, I open my eyes and sit up. Colson stares over with a perturbed expression on his face, wondering what the hell is going on with me.
I’ve never been passive aggressive toward him. It’s not in my nature, and I need to apologize before I get ahead of myself, and he thinks this has to do with Stranger Guy and the fact that he disappeared for the last couple of days.
His life is his business.
Plain and simple.
No matter how curious I am or the level of concern I have, he’s only going to do what he wants. If he wants to tell me what’s going on in his life, cool. If he doesn’t, then that’s okay, too.
I have my own stuff I should focus on.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, backpedaling. “You don’t have to answer that. It just…came out. I wasn’t thinking. What you have going on in your life doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
He licks his lips, and I can tell he’s thinking. Wondering what he can say that isn’t going to add to the day I’m having.
His eyes are beautiful, a replica of the beach, warm waters, and gritty sand—a place I wouldn’t mind disappearing to.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. There’s just shit in my life I don’t share with anyone, and it’s better that way.”
“No one has to deal with everything on their own. We choose to, but I understand.”
“Yeah, well, then I’m choosing to and for good reason.”
My brows knit together. “That bad?”
“Unfortunately. Tell me what’s going on with you. If I’m not the reason why you’re upset, then what has you looking like that?”
I mull over if I should tell him, not because I don’t want to share, but because we’ve been over this already. He knows about what my dad did. Rehashing it isn’t going to change a damn thing.
“My dad messaged me. That’s all. Yoga usually helps. It hasn’t.”
He nods, pulls his knees up to his chest, and relaxes his arms around them. “Still dealing with that, huh?”
“Sadly…and I might feel dehydrated from drinking a few nights ago. It’s just been a rough morning so far. Ready for it to be over. I’m sorry about being short with you. I’m not normally like this, I promise.”
“Everyone has bad days, Vi.”
“Yeah.” I take in his eyes once more before catching something white on his finger. A bandage. “Holy shit. What happened to your finger?”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Hit the punching bag the wrong way.”
“You weren’t wearing gloves?”
