want to care, she didn’t want to give a shit, but she did.
“You don’t need to talk to his sorry ass, Angel. What could he possibly have to say to you that would fucking matter anyway?” Mic pulled the transfer paper of the last portion of his back piece out of the drawer in his filing cabinet next to the counter and slammed it shut.
“Well the last time I checked I was still in control of my own decisions. I could’ve handled him.”
“But I didn’t want you to have to deal with him if you didn’t have to. I took care of it. If you wanted to stay in touch with him then you shouldn’t have changed your phone number.” Mic stood up and stepped past Ronnie into the hall.
Ronnie stepped into the doorway. “What did he want, Mic? What did he say?” Her voice was soft and she could hear the sad pathetic plea in her tone and she wanted to cruse and scream and bawl her eyes out for letting Brandon get to her once again.
Mic stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to her until he was standing right in front of her. “I don’t know, Angel. I didn’t ask and he probably wouldn’t have told me even if I would have.”
“He was your friend too, Mic.”
“I renounced that title from him the second he fucked you over. He fucking destroyed you. I could never be friends with anyone who would hurt you.”
“Because I let him destroy me. He was all I ever knew. He was all I ever had. Until him, I lived with a woman who was always so drunk she could never remember my name. I didn’t have any girlfriends. They were either jealous bitches who treated me like a freak, or they succumbed to the trailer trash druggies they were destined for. And the guys, they just wanted to fuck me. I was alone. Completely fucking alone.”
She sighed and her voice lowered. “Then I met Brandon and he changed everything for me. He gave me hope for a life other than the shithole that was burying me alive. Then he gave it to me only to rip it out from under me when he fucked the first woman who would spread her legs for him.” Ronnie sagged her body against the doorframe letting it hold her weight as she focused on keeping the weak tears in the back of her eyes.
“Did you love him, Ronnie, or did you love the idea of him?”
She blinked hard and tried to pull air down her burning throat to fill her deflated lungs. She hadn’t really ever thought about it like that. She did love him, right? She did, she knew she did. He was her family. He was her future. But at the same time, she never got shivers when he touched her, and she never melted into his arms. She never burned with an ache for him that would only be alleviated by his body buried inside her. She never craved him. Not like the way Kale made her feel. But that was just physical, it wasn’t what really mattered and at least Brandon was always there for her…until now.
“You know what I think, Angel?” Mic said, cutting through her mental debate when it was obvious she wasn’t going to answer him. “I think you loved him, I really do. But I think you were wrapped up in the idea of loving him, the idea of someone loving you, the idea of a life with someone that you never really stopped to make sure he was the one you wanted that life with. And I’m gonna tell you right now, you’re fucking better than him.”
He was right. She never stopped to really think if he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She had just been with him for so long that she didn’t know anything else. She did love him, they crawled their way up from the bottom of the barrel together but if she was being fucking honest with herself, she wasn’t in love with him—not anymore.
His betrayal is what hurt; it’s what broke her heart, not the loss of his love but the loss of what his love represented. Safety.
“When did you get so philosophical?”
“Ah, when you are old like me you get a pretty good grasp at shit.” Mic wasn’t typically an affectionate man so when he
“You don’t need to talk to his sorry ass, Angel. What could he possibly have to say to you that would fucking matter anyway?” Mic pulled the transfer paper of the last portion of his back piece out of the drawer in his filing cabinet next to the counter and slammed it shut.
“Well the last time I checked I was still in control of my own decisions. I could’ve handled him.”
“But I didn’t want you to have to deal with him if you didn’t have to. I took care of it. If you wanted to stay in touch with him then you shouldn’t have changed your phone number.” Mic stood up and stepped past Ronnie into the hall.
Ronnie stepped into the doorway. “What did he want, Mic? What did he say?” Her voice was soft and she could hear the sad pathetic plea in her tone and she wanted to cruse and scream and bawl her eyes out for letting Brandon get to her once again.
Mic stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to her until he was standing right in front of her. “I don’t know, Angel. I didn’t ask and he probably wouldn’t have told me even if I would have.”
“He was your friend too, Mic.”
“I renounced that title from him the second he fucked you over. He fucking destroyed you. I could never be friends with anyone who would hurt you.”
“Because I let him destroy me. He was all I ever knew. He was all I ever had. Until him, I lived with a woman who was always so drunk she could never remember my name. I didn’t have any girlfriends. They were either jealous bitches who treated me like a freak, or they succumbed to the trailer trash druggies they were destined for. And the guys, they just wanted to fuck me. I was alone. Completely fucking alone.”
She sighed and her voice lowered. “Then I met Brandon and he changed everything for me. He gave me hope for a life other than the shithole that was burying me alive. Then he gave it to me only to rip it out from under me when he fucked the first woman who would spread her legs for him.” Ronnie sagged her body against the doorframe letting it hold her weight as she focused on keeping the weak tears in the back of her eyes.
“Did you love him, Ronnie, or did you love the idea of him?”
She blinked hard and tried to pull air down her burning throat to fill her deflated lungs. She hadn’t really ever thought about it like that. She did love him, right? She did, she knew she did. He was her family. He was her future. But at the same time, she never got shivers when he touched her, and she never melted into his arms. She never burned with an ache for him that would only be alleviated by his body buried inside her. She never craved him. Not like the way Kale made her feel. But that was just physical, it wasn’t what really mattered and at least Brandon was always there for her…until now.
“You know what I think, Angel?” Mic said, cutting through her mental debate when it was obvious she wasn’t going to answer him. “I think you loved him, I really do. But I think you were wrapped up in the idea of loving him, the idea of someone loving you, the idea of a life with someone that you never really stopped to make sure he was the one you wanted that life with. And I’m gonna tell you right now, you’re fucking better than him.”
He was right. She never stopped to really think if he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She had just been with him for so long that she didn’t know anything else. She did love him, they crawled their way up from the bottom of the barrel together but if she was being fucking honest with herself, she wasn’t in love with him—not anymore.
His betrayal is what hurt; it’s what broke her heart, not the loss of his love but the loss of what his love represented. Safety.
“When did you get so philosophical?”
“Ah, when you are old like me you get a pretty good grasp at shit.” Mic wasn’t typically an affectionate man so when he
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