“No.” His voice sharpened, incredulous. “You can’t actually be thinking of giving a chance to a man who nearly strangled you to death. The same man who dangled a woman off a jet like it was nothing.”
“He wasn’t actually going to do it,” I murmured, the words though, sounding thin, fragile on my tongue. I couldn’t believe these words were coming out of my mouth.
Kenzo stood still, his body stiffening “What?”
“He was just angry–”
“–Angry enough to be ready to kill someone? Enough to put his hand around your throat? To hurt you?”
“He won’t hurt me.” My hands dropped from my hair, clenching into fists and pressing against my thighs.
“That wasn’t what I saw earlier.”
“I’m serious,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Just let it go.”
“Come on, Beth. What’s wrong with you?” He crouched down in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Maybe at the beginning of it all, he seemed like the perfect man, but clearly he has some problems that he needs to sort out. I’ll recommend therapy.” He squeezed my hand gently. “Please consider this and not settle for him.”
I swallowed hard. “He just needs help.” My throat burned. Callan wasn’t a bad person. It was his deceptive other self that was. And this version wasn’t going to last long. I wanted to be here when Callan would return. I still wanted Callan. The man who jumped into the pool to save me even though he didn’t know how to swim.
I would take all the darkness and rage Zaghan was offering, as far as somewhere in that shadow, there was Callan. I would continue to hold onto that special thing between us. The way his light complimented my darkness, the way the sound of his voice and the sight of him alone made my monsters run and hide. I would wait for Callan. Because now I wanted no one else but him. So if I had to dance to the devil’s tune like this, play by his rules, pretend he was human and not a monster to be able to see Callan again, I would do that.
Kenzo exhaled sharply. “If he has problems, he should get himself checked. He can’t drag you into his mess.”
“I’ll be fine, Takahashi.” I reached for his hands, pleading. “I really care about him and–”
“No!” He pulled away, his eyes glossy now, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled. “This is what we call a toxic relationship. What the hell is wrong with you, Beth?” His voice thundered, startling me.
“Stop yelling at me, please.” My chest tightened. “Just…stop.”
He blinked, his expression softening. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just can’t stand the thought of you walking intoanother nightmare.” His voice cracked. “Please don’t settle for that monster.”
“He won’t hurt me,” I said again, sounding less firm, trying to convince myself more than him. “He gets angry alright, but I don’t think he’ll hurt me.”
‘He literally threatened to kill you every second he gets,’ the thought slithered across my mind. And I wasn’t sure anymore who this voice belonged to. Sometimes it would tell me to cut a little deeper, that just grazing the skin with blade would never cease my breath. Then, other times, it would tell me I deserved to live, to be loved. Maybe there were two voices. Or maybe this one was often confused, just like me.
“For Christ’s sake, Beth, why are you not listening to me?!”
“Stop.” I rose to my feet so fast, the chair scraped against the floor. “You’re like, really overstimulating me right now. I need-I need to breathe, I’m–I’m–” My fingers dug into my temple, chest heaving, breath frantic. “Please, just stop it.”
“Okay,” he said, defeated. “I’ll–I’ll stop, okay. Just calm down.” He placed his hands gently on my shoulders, then guided me back to the chair.
I sat back down on the chair, elbows propped against the wooden dresser, my face buried in my palms as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart was racing, the blood running through my veins molten. I felt like I was falling apart.
A long silence settled between us, thick and suffocating, as his palm gently stroke my back.
A few moments later, a car horn blared outside.
His touch ceased and he stepped away, releasing a sharp exhale. “That’s Mrs. Takahashi,” he murmured, his voice quiet, drained, as he grabbed his backpack, hitching it over his shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He exited the room, his footsteps fading down the hall. The front door slammed shut a second later.
He was disappointed in me, this, I knew. Maybe he was tired of always helping me pick up the pieces when my heart would break again.
It wasn’t my intention to be stubborn. I could see the signs. Zaghan was a monster. He was just using me. Maybe to spite the other version. They seemed to hold grudges against each other, perhaps.
But, one shouldn’t cut down a tree just because one of the fruits was bad.
Callan was in there somewhere.
