Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson Page 0,21
down the stairs, and out the front door. He locked me out of the house without my shoes or purse. I had to walk several miles home in the middle of the night in December.”
“So you didn’t live together then?”
“No. We did for a while, but he asked me to move out. It was strange. Like, he wanted to be with me still but said he needed space. I always suspected he was cheating on me.” I glance down at my lap, feeling incredibly stupid for being so gullible. Elias doesn’t respond so I peek up at him and see him watching me carefully. As I bring my gaze fully back to his, he nods his head then continues with the questions.
“What happened next?”
“Immediately after, I felt like I had to apologize to him for pissing him off.” I raise up my hand to stop his protest. “I know how ridiculous that sounds now, but at the time, I blamed myself. He always had me blaming myself. Anyway, just after Christmas my friend forced me to call so I could get my things and my car from his place. He apologized, said he was sorry for getting so angry with me, that it wouldn’t happen again. He told me I should come over the next day to get my purse, and he would make it all up to me. I wasn’t so sure about the making up part, but I needed my purse so I told him I’d head over the next evening.
“The next day my friend dropped me off, and I let myself in because he wasn’t answering the door. When I got up to his bedroom, I walked in on him having sex with his neighbor, who happened to be a mutual friend of ours. He looked over his shoulder long enough to say, ‘Your purse is on the kitchen table,’ all without missing a beat. Just kept on screwing her right in front of me.”
I don’t even notice I’m shaking until Elias slides into the booth next to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling my head to his chest. I release a long, slow exhale, holding back the tears that threaten to spill over. God, I was so damn stupid.
“I’m sorry. I hate him, but it still hurts.” The fact is, that is my past, my life. It haunts me to know I was once so weak that someone had so much power over my actions. And here I am, sharing that baggage because it helped shape who I am, while simultaneously praying it won’t scare Elias away.
“He stripped you raw. I can understand. I’m sorry I asked you about it, but I’m glad you told me. That was brave of you to put yourself out there like that, trusting me so blindly.” He kisses the top of my head, his lips pressing tightly, lingering in my hair. His praise engulfs me, warming my frigid insides.
At that moment, our waitress arrives with our food. She sets my plate down in front of me, and with a smirk, places Elias’s plate across the table at his empty seat in the booth.
Elias remains seated next to me, which is nice, comforting even. I appreciate him wanting to make sure I’m okay.
But his face is fixed in a disgusted sneer aimed the waitress’s way. “I’ll take my plate over here if you don’t mind not trying to dictate where I sit.”
Humiliated, I’m sure, she moves his plate and places it in front of him, muttering a quick apology without looking either of us in the eye. She scampers back towards the kitchen.
I stifle a laugh at the way he called her out. “That was awesome.”
“More like irritating.” He roughly grabs his fork from the rolled up napkin and dives in. “Shit, this is delicious. Try it.” He scoops up some chicken off his plate and holds his fork out towards my mouth.
“You do know I ordered the same thing, right?” I ask, eyeing his fork suspiciously.
He wiggles his eyebrows at me and grins. “Yeah, but this is more fun. Try it. You know you want to.”
Oh, I do want to. I lean over at his insistence and take the fork into my mouth, closing my lips around the food in an unhurried exaggeration. I slowly pull back, seductively swiping at my lips with my tongue while looking him directly in the eye. He remains still, his Adam’s apple working on a slow swallow of his own while watching