As she reaches the porch, I hold the door open for her, trying to ignore the tension crackling between us. She brushes past me without a word, and I swallow down the lump forming in my throat as my eyes greedily drink her in.
She’s wearing loose-fitting jeans and my hoodie. Was that intentional, or did she just throw it on without thinking? Either way, she looks good in my clothes. The marks on her face are another story. She’s tried covering them with makeup, but the dark marks and swelling around her eye are still visible despite her efforts. Is that why she’s been hiding? Is she ashamed of how she looks?
She shouldn’t be. Cecilia’s never been anything but beautiful.
Inside, the atmosphere feels heavy with unspoken words, and I struggle to find the right thing to say.
“How are you?” I finally ask, my voice coming out more strained than I intended.
She shrugs, her gaze flickering away from mine. “Fine,” she mutters, her tone clipped.
I resist the urge to reach out and touch her, knowing she won't welcome the move. Instead, I shove my hands into my pockets, feeling the weight of the silence pressing down on us.
“You said you wanted to talk,” I start, my voice cautious as I try to broach the chasm that’s only seemed to grow between us this past week.
Her eyes flick to mine, and I get a glimpse of anger buried beneath the surface. “Yeah, I do,” she says, her voice sharp.
Alright. Anger. I can work with this.
I take a step closer. “I need to understand what happened,” I say, fighting to keep my tone even. She’s not the only one upset.“You took off without so much as a goodbye and then ghosted me for a week.”
“What happened?” Cecilia scoffs, her eyes flashing with emotion. “You happened, Gabriel. You went after Austin without even talking to me about it, and now everything’s a mess.”
My chest tightens at her words. I thought we hashed this out already. “I was just trying to protect you,” I argue, desperation creeping into my voice.
“But you didn’t,” she says. “You managed to make everything worse.”
“I didn’t mean?—”
She holds her hand out, and I snap my lips together.
“I know,” she tells me. “You didn’t mean to. You had good intentions. You didn’t think Austin would go after me. I know.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “I know, but even knowing, it doesn’t make any of this better. You still lied to me. I thought I could trust you but?—”
“You can,” I interject. “You know you can.”
Shaking her head, she takes a few steps back. “No. I can’t. I thought I could, but you proved me wrong when you went behind my back.”
Is she being serious right now?
The irritation bubbling inside me reaches a boiling point, and before I can stop myself, I'm closing the distance between us, my hands gripping her hips tightly and pulling her toward me. “You think I wanted this?” I demand, my voice raw and angry. “You think I enjoyed seeing you in pain?”
Cecilia meets my gaze, her dark brown eyes blazing with defiance. “You don't get to play the hero, Gabriel,” she spits, her words cutting deep. “You had no right meddling in my life. Not after I told you to back off.”
“So your solution is to ghost me? Real fucking mature, Cecilia.”
“Ghost you?” she snaps, “What did you expect? I can barely look at you without feeling like I’m being stabbed all over again, only this time in the chest.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “You betrayed me,” she accuses, her voice trembling with emotion. “Don’t you get that? You broke your promise to let me fight my own battles. Regardless of your intent, you stabbed me in the back and my life is imploding because of it.”
The weight of her words hits me like a punch to the gut, and guilt consumes me. “I'm sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart. “I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to believe me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
But Cecilia doesn't want my apologies, and before I can say another word, she's pushing me away, her hands shoving against my chest with surprising force. “I don’t accept your apology,” she hisses, her eyes blazing with anger.
I stumble backwards, my chest aching with the force of her rejection. But despite the pain, I can't tear my gaze away from her. There's something raw and vulnerable in her eyes, something that draws me to her like a moth to a flame.
Her chest is heaving with each of her labored breaths. Before I can stop myself, I'm closing the distance between us once again, my lips crashing against hers in a desperate, angry kiss.
The anger and frustration that's been building between us explodes in a wave of passion and desire, and I lose myself in the heat of the moment, the world fading away until there's nothing but Cecilia and the burning need that consumes us both.
