“Yes, there is something.”
“There is. I don’t know what it is either. This is new for me too, ya know. You think I do this shit?” He waves his hand at me and at my glass of orange stuff. “I’m just following what I feel and seeing where it takes me. I think you should do the same. Stop putting walls up.”
“Really? And what about my boyfriend? Of twelve years?”
He pulls out his little e-cig and starts puffing on it. “I don’t fucking know, Evelyn. But after twelve years, and here you are sick and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass, I think I’d be taking a good hard look at this.” He takes a long drag on his e-cig. “I like you, you’re different. I like how you make me feel. I love how shy but feisty you are. I want to fuck you stupid and watch you come undone and then fuck you back together again.”
My thighs start to burn. Yes. Do that. Whatever that is.
“Well, that’s romantic, Storm. And therein is why I would never be with someone like you. I don’t want to be with some pig who just goes around randomly fucking girls with no regard to their commitment and values. That’s why God made sluts—so men like you can have something to keep their feeble little one track minds happy because they’re too shallow to have real relationships.”
Oops. He looks really pissed. He’s shaking his head at me in disbelief. “Wow, Evie. I thought you kind of knew me a little fucking bit, or at least could see that I treat you different, and I was hoping we could figure out the fucking reason for that. Together. But fuck it.” He pushes my feet off and stands up. He points his finger from me to himself and back again. “This is why I don’t have relationships. This fucking bullshit right here.”
“I’m already in a relationship, Storm,” I remind him. My voice is strained from talking too much and coughing. Or maybe it’s because I’m about to cry because seeing him mad and upset is slowly chipping away at my heart.
He grabs his leather jacket off the chair and pulls it on. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
The minute he leaves, I burst into tears. He has my head so confused. I don’t even understand what just happened or what he was trying to say, or why I even care. My words came out so much worse than I wanted them to and made me seem like a total bitch. I just feel so sick and confused! I am in no position right now to be making decisions or thinking about where I stand with people. Can’t he see that?
My phone rings and I answer it quickly. Maybe he’s calling to say he’s coming back.
“Hello?”
“Wow, you sound even worse than yesterday.” Michael. Dammit.
“I know... I feel like crap. How are your meetings going?”
“Good, everything is good. You better get some rest. You can call me later if you want, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, I think so.” No... He just left because I called him a pig.
“Okay, hon. I hope you feel better soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”