“Thanked you for what? For being a reckless fool who risked her life for me?”
“Yes!” I practically shout at him. “Literally any man out there would have been so fucking thankful for what I did, but of course, you, the oh-so-complex, oh-so-mighty Alexander Coleman, are pissed at me for it?!”
“I never asked for your help!” he retorts.
“You didn’t have to. That’s how love works. That’s what happens.”
“Then we shouldn’t be together!”
That one feels like a stab, even though I’ve sensed it coming, and the sharp pain only exacerbates my anger. Even he seems surprised by his own words, as if his tongue spoke before his brain could formulate the thought.
“If that’s the way you feel…” I breathe out. Fuck, I wanted to sound stronger.
Again, he follows me into the walk-in closet.
“You endangered yourself, and you were so wrapped up in us that you didn’t even see how crazy you were being,” he explains, as if he could ever make sense of his decision.
“I was extremely lucid, Lex. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I knew the risks. And if I had to do it all over again, I would.”
“Then that’s even worse. You still don’t see it, even in hindsight.”
“You know what? I changed my mind. Right fucking now, I’d let you rot in jail,” I spit out.
He doesn’t answer, but his nostrils flare with anger.
“But you’re right. Let’s break up,” I bluff. “I’ll find myself a man who’d not only appreciate what I did for you but would also be willing to tattoo a prison map on himself to return the favor. That’s what I deserve.”
Of course, it flies right over Lex’s head. He stares at me with some confusion, and I say, “It’s from a famous TV show, you uncultured swine!”
I leave him alone in his fucking towel to return to the bed with more of my things.
“Will you stop packing,” he commands.
“Why?”
We’re full-on yelling at each other, and somehow, it feels good. All the frustration that accumulated since his release is getting out. Hell, since his arrest, even. All the things I’ve wanted to tell him are finally being said, even if I’m screaming them at him.
“Because you’re not leaving.”
I scoff. “Oh, so now you want me to stay? Make up your fucking mind, Alexander.”
“You wanted to talk. We’re talking.”
“That’s called shouting!”
“But at least it’s something, isn’t it?”
This man is giving me whiplash. I’m finally following his will and leaving, and now he wants me to stay and talk?
Too little too late.
“I’m not your fucking therapist, Lex. And I’m done being your scapegoat. You fucked up. You got arrested. And I got you out. Now, if you can’t see why I did it, then maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t be together.”
“I see why you did it. I’m saying you shouldn’t have. You had the easy part. All you needed to do was move the fuck on!”
“The easy part?!” I shout at him. “I’m not claiming I’ve had it worse than you because I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through, but it doesn’t mean I had it easy!”
He sighs, passing a frustrated hand over his face, the firm muscles of his arm flexing. “And how was it hard, Andrea? You were out there, free to do whatever the fuck you wanted!”
