How did I let Matt put that ring on my finger? I will forever walk around wondering how I let him trap me.
My phone rings, and I run into my living room hoping it’s Damian. Maybe he finally wants to talk. I’ve sent him so many texts over the past few hours and he hasn’t returned even one. I grab my phone only to realize it’s Matt’s new number. Instantly my heart deflates. Hitting decline, and blocking his number my frustration boils over.
What is wrong with the male race? Are they so testosterone driven they can’t see further than their dicks? Why the fuck would Matt think I’d answered his call? I’ve been so clear, laid it out plain and simple in black and white. He doesn’t do it for me anymore.
Opening my sliding glass door as far as it will go, I walk onto my balcony and chuck the damn phone as far as I can, listening to it break and smash all over the concrete below.
I feel liberated, and I fist-bump the air. He can’t reach me. Finally, he can’t torment me with his damn phone calls.
Shit, no one can reach me, not even Damian. And that’s when I realize it’s finally happened. I’ve lost my fucking mind.
I slam the sliding glass door shut and crawl back under my covers.
Closing my eyes and trying to sleep, thoughts of where Damian could possibly be plague my mind. I hope like hell he isn’t out doing something crazy and stupid. He has to know I’d never pick Matt over him. How could he not know that? Because I never told him I loved him. Shit, he thinks I still love Matt. He accused me of that just last week. God, how could I be so naïve?
Hours go by, and all I’ve done is stare at the ceiling. At two in the morning, I finally hear a car approach, then a door slam. Wrapping a blanket around myself, I walk into the entryway and look out the peephole. I hear footsteps. They’re heavy, pounding each concrete step as he comes up the walkway. I’m about to open the door and make him talk to me when I hear it, his voice, deep, husky and slurring every word that comes out of his mouth. He’s drunk, and as I watch him approach the top step, he’s swaying, not keeping his balance, talking on the phone. Everything inside my system feels slow and heavy, like molasses is being poured into my veins and through my body. This isn’t the time for us to hash things out, but I can’t leave him like this either.
My mind is screaming at me to stop my motions, to let him go, but I can’t. I open the door.
“Damian.”
His head flips around, his eyes looking into mine, but he’s not looking at me, he’s looking through me.
I’ve lost him.
“Well, look who it is. The adulterer.” His words are slow and deliberate, his body leaning back onto the railing that leads down to our parking spots.
Stepping out into the cool night air, the wind picks up a corner of the blanket covering my body, exposing a decent amount of leg and causing goose bumps to erupt all over my skin.
“Come inside, I’ll make you some coffee.”
A wicked smile crosses his face. “I’m not in the mood for coffee, Ms. Peacock. How about a little drunk—” thrusting his hips in my direction and wagging his eyebrows he takes a step closer. “You know, tit for tat. I fucked you when you were so drunk and begging for it, how about a little recipro . . . reciprocation. It’s the least you can do.”
Taking another step closer, I immediately take one back. Anger begins to worm its way into my gut, spilling over into my blood and making my heart beat audible to everyone within a five-mile radius. He left me to fend for myself tonight. So caught up in his own emotions he didn’t once stop to think how I was feeling.
I am about to slam the door in his face before we both say something we’ll regret, when he grabs my wrist and pulls me to him. Holding onto the blanket tight with my left arm to keep it from falling, adrenaline is coursing through my system and I pull on my arm, trying to free it from his iron strong grasp.
It’s impossible.
Bending down to reach my ear he whispers, his voice pointed and