Collaring Chaz (Dante's Infernal #2) - Joel Abernathy Page 0,74
had six months you could have used to reach out to me if you really had something to say, and you choose tonight?”
His frown deepened. “I did. You’re the one who didn’t return my calls. Or my texts…”
I knew him well enough to know when he was lying, and the fact that he wasn’t threw me off for a second. He’d called? That didn’t make sense.
I forced it aside, because it was already easy enough to get derailed by his presence, let alone his logic. “It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t have shown up at that meeting if you had anything new to say.”
“So, what, I can’t still care about you because I didn’t leave the band?” he challenged. “That’s what this is about?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what it’s fucking about. You really don’t get it, do you?” I asked, searching his face for even a semblance of self-awareness. “Did you hear anything I said to you that day? I’m done being the weakest link, I’m done being Dante’s punching bag, and I’m done being your consolation prize when you really want him. I’m done being the punchline and the joke. You made your choice, and I made mine, so what the fuck is there to talk about?”
“That’s not true,” he protested with all the certainty of a man who had repeated the same lie so many times, he’d actually started to believe it. “I know why you think that, and I know it’s all my fault, but it’s just not true. I want you, Chaz. Only you, and it’s bullshit that it took me so long to figure it out, but it’s the truth. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”
I had my arms wrapped tightly around myself, because it felt like all his pretty lies were going to unravel me if I didn’t hold on. He was saying everything I’d wanted to hear for so long, and all I felt was regret. Regret that he was telling me now instead of back when I was actually delusional enough to believe it. Regret that I hadn’t shut the door in his face before he had the chance to see I was still just as pathetic, just as in love with him as I always had been.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, working up the nerve to tell him the one thing I knew would put us both out of our misery, even if it would be the only time I’d ever lied to him, because I couldn’t do this again. Walking away from him once had almost killed me, but him walking away from me would finish the job.
And he would. Maybe he’d think he was okay with the runner-up trophy for a week, a month, even a year--but he’d figure it out eventually. Especially now that I was falling apart, and couldn’t even be the pale imitation he might have been content with for a while.
“I don’t feel the same way anymore,” I continued, surprised my voice sounded reasonably steady. “I’ve moved on, and so should you.”
I didn’t want to stick around to give him time to argue, or in the far more likely scenario, to see the relief in his eyes that I’d finally given him an out. Instead, I grabbed my bass and slung it over my shoulder, but he blocked me on my way to the door.
“You don’t mean that.” His voice was sullen but firm. “I know you don’t.”
I tried to walk past him again, but he put a hand on my shoulder and took my chin in his other hand, forcing me to look up at him. The tears burning my eyes spilled over, and I hated him for that, too. Especially when he brushed one away with his thumb like he thought he was some asshole from a romantic comedy.
“Just fucking listen to me for one second,” he pleaded. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “You’re right. I should never have taken Drake’s side. I thought it was the best thing for you. I thought I could protect you by forcing you to come back, but I know all that did was push you even further away.”
“You what?” I stared at him for a moment in shock before I pushed him away. It was one thing to think he had just implicitly gone along with the legal battle, and honestly, I couldn’t really fault him that much. We were done. I’d made fucking sure of that, but this?