The Wrong Path - By Vivian Marie Aubin du Paris Page 0,64
invitation, then back up at Will, who still had his back to her. “He said it’s this Saturday. They’re making the preparations right now—“
“I don’t care.”
She flinched at the empty, flat tone. Will cared. Will cared much more than he was willing to admit. She knew, because he looked haunted, and she had barely been able to get him to eat more than a sandwich in the last two days. “Will—“
“Are you still dating my brother?”
Startled, she stared up at his flashing, dark eyes. “Am I…?” she repeated, stunned. She hadn’t thought about Trevor once since she had been with Will, let alone talked to him. She had even turned off her cell phone to ensure that she couldn’t be reached by anyone. Today had been the first day she had seen him since the hospital. Though, as her mind returned to his suggestion of dinner later in the week and his hug downstairs, she supposed they were technically still dating. “I-I guess.”
He smiled coldly. “I thought you might say that.”
To her disbelief he suddenly headed to the window, almost half out of it before she was able to grab a hold of him. “Wait, Will!” She yanked him back into the room as hard as she could, her heart pounding frantically in her chest as she gaped up at him. “Stop!” She panted for air, suddenly out of breath as she looked up into his dark eyes. “What do you want me to do?” she demanded helplessly. “Call him after not talking to him for days and break up with him right after he…” she let her sentence trail off as she realized what she’d been about to say, swallowing hard against her own insensitivity.
He laughed coldly. “Lost his mother?” he finished for her flatly.
She tried to reach for his hands, but he pulled them roughly from her grasp. “What’s wrong?” she pleaded desperately.
He glared at her. “I’m just a little tired of being my brother’s substitute. Your on-call boy you keep holed up in your room so you have someone who understands you while you reap the benefits of dating the quarterback in public.”
She swallowed hard against the hurt and anger that built up inside of her at his words. “You’re not being fair,” she warned quietly.
“I’m not being fair? Go take a long hard look in the mirror and tell me who’s not being fair, sweetheart.”
She tried not to cringe. A part of her understood what he was saying, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t know how much he meant to her. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t know how much he had changed her—how much he had changed her entire life. How could she possibly begin to tell him how important he was to her when she couldn’t even express it properly to herself?
“You don’t understand—“ she started slowly, trying to formulate the words in her head.
“Oh, I understand perfectly, Annabelle. I get it. And I want out. Go date your preppy jock boyfriend, hang out with your backstabbing plastic friends, and party at all the coolest clubs until you black out. Just don’t come looking for me at the end of the night.”
His harsh words delivered, Will reached through the window. Annabelle stared in disbelief at his back, her mind whirling with his cruel words and the realization that Will was leaving. For good. Will was angry because he didn’t understand—he didn’t know—and he was leaving. He was writing Annabelle out of his life. He wanted nothing more to do with her. And it wasn’t even fair.
He was hurting from his mom’s death, and Trevor showing up, and it was too much for Will to take. She could understand that. But he wasn’t even giving her a chance to explain. He just went on the attack, like he always did, and ran away.
Not this time.
Her hand shot out and gripped his arm, yanking him back into the room so forcefully that he staggered back several steps. He stared down at her threateningly, his mouth open to spew more hateful words.
She slapped him.
She had never slapped anyone before, but she hit him with as much force as she could muster. There was a loud crack and then he stilled, his face turned to the right. Her hand stung and throbbed as she stared at his profile, a red palm print already forming on his light skin.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
And then Will’s head slowly turned to face her, his dark eyes locking onto hers.