Knowing my love for the franchise, he gave me creative freedom. Once every couple of months, Austin will come in, and we'll spend the whole day on a new character.
Today is Black Widow's turn to be immortalized on his skin. Choosing an image of her in her infamous hero landing pose, one knee bent, the other stretched out, a gun in each hand, badass. I love sessions like this, not only because of the awesome image I'm inking but also because the process takes me entirely out of my head, and since it has now been a whole week since I have spoken to Drew, I needed to be out of my head.
But when I hear his deep baritone voice filtering through the shop, I almost slide right off my stool as I try to scoot it across the floor to look out into the reception area, leaving poor Austin abandoned on the table half wrapped up. I stick my head out the open door to my section. What the fuck is he doing here?
“Does it look like I give a fuck if he has a client, Carter?” Fuck, I haven’t heard him this angry before. Clearly, he came home from work last night and realized my stuff was gone. I’d spent most of last night waiting on a knife’s edge for him to show up at Nyx’s apartment, but apparently, he managed to keep a lid on his rampage until after work today to come in and chew my ass out for avoiding him. I mean, he does have a point.
I’m a fucking adult, yet I hid out around the block in Nyx’s car so he couldn’t spot mine and waited until he left for work before taking my things from the home we shared for over a year.
I've been avoiding his calls and texts for a week now. It's time to grow some balls and face this… apparently in front of poor Austin. I'm going to have to give the guy a discount.
"It's okay Car, let him through," I call out, refusing to meet Drew's eyes before I turn back to Austin, "Hey man, do you mind if Nyx finishes wrapping this up? I gotta sort some shit," I tell him with a wince as I look over my shoulder to see Drew barrelling this way, God, this is embarrassing. As if I summoned her, Nyx appears in the doorway and moves around the angry bull that is Drew to guide Austin into her room. "Thanks," I whisper quietly to her as I turn and clean up the inks I used on Austin's Widow tattoo.
Silence falls as I feel Drew step into the small space, practically sucking all the oxygen out as he closes the door behind him. My hand rubs absentmindedly at the back of my neck, and I have to remind myself to breathe before I turn to face him.
I’ve never been one for confrontations. I do not thrive on this shit. Unlike the lawyer in Drew, he fucking loves it, I’m sure. ‘He looked wrecked, Ry.’ Nyx’s words from last week filter into my head as I keep staring at the floor. Steeling myself, I finally lift my head and turn my body to face him with a long exhale. I open my mouth to speak, but he quickly cuts me off.
"Seriously, Ry?" his words come out in a whisper yell through clenched teeth, and I can feel myself recoiling even at the hushed volume.
"You ignore me all week, refuse to return so much as a text, then you come home while I'm at work and take your stuff like a fucking thief in the night?" He blows out a breath, hands on his hips, his expensive navy suit jacket open and hanging around his forearms, and I'm frozen. Mute, too, apparently, as he continues to pace in the small space.
“Do you have any idea how much I have missed you?” he asks, his tone softer now, dejected almost, but his words are what finally restarts my brain.
"How much you have missed me this week, right? What about the week before that? Or the one before that? Or fuck the month before? Did you miss me then, Andrew?" I watch as he stops pacing at the sound of his full name falling from my lips and turns, clearly intent on closing the distance between us, but I put up a hand to stop him from getting any closer. I can't let him, or I'll never say what needs to be said.
"No, you don't get to come here and say you missed me when you checked out of our relationship months ago! I missed you while still living with you. How do you think that felt?" My chest is heaving now. I'm feeling nothing but rage at his audacity to come here and say that he misses me after acting like I didn't exist for months.
Drew stands there, his chest rising and falling, like he's trying not to lose his shit but processing my words at the same time.
It's about fucking time you listened, asshole,and now that I have his undivided attention, I'm going to lay it all out.
"You haven't touched me in months, you haven't had time for me in months, and I'm done living like that. I refuse to come second to your wants and needs. It was the same with my ex, and hell, my fucking father couldn't have cared less about me. I won't be an afterthought again, Drew."
Jaw dropping, he glares at me. "I don't think you're…" The shock and hurt in his eyes make me cringe as the words seem to be caught in his throat.
Shaking my head again, I scrub my hands over my face. I dare to lift my head. At first, the look on his face says he’s angry, but the next thing I see catches me off guard. He looks like, hell,wrecked?.
"Ry, I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry I came in here guns blazing, and I won't deny that the last few months shouldn't have happened, but Jesus, sweetheart, it was never my intention to make you feel any way like that fucking asshole ex of yours. You have to believe me." He's practically pleading with his eyes.
"I will prove to you that what we have is nothing like that. I'll prove to you that you're what matters to me. Just don't give up on us. Please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me." The question is not if I want that, if I want everything he's saying. The question is whether I'm willing to go through all of this again.
What if it's all good for a few months, then it returns to how things are now? Can I take that risk?
Before I can even form a coherent response, he continues, stepping closer to reach out and place his hand tentatively on my cheek.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” he whispers, lightly brushing the stubble on my jaw. “I see my future, my everything, my shield. I refuse to throw it all away.” Fuck, am I still breathing?
“I know I let you down, that I abandoned you, and I can promise you a lot of things right now. And all of them would be true, but it doesn’t mean you would believe them. What you need to believe at this moment is that I love you. I want our life as it was.”
I’m about to stop him again, but he quickly corrects himself like he knows what I will say, the objection I will make.
“No, that’s not true. I don’t want our life to look like it has in the last few months. I want our life full of happiness, love, and long, lazy Sundays in bed. Dressing up at Comic-Con and maybe even picking out new rugs or some shit.” His smile is wistful now, like he can see all those things for us.
"I don't know how to do this with you anymore, Drew. There will always be another case, and I'll eventually be an afterthought again." Just as the words leave my mouth, I want to slap myself because I want to know and feel I'm important to him.
That's all that's been missing these last months. So why is it so hard for me to accept what he's saying? To give him this chance?
"You don't have to do anything. Just don't shut me out, Okay? That's all I'm asking for. You're not ready to believe me when I tell you it won't happen again, but let me show you."
