Combative
Page 31
I inhale sharply, pushing down the pain and trying to keep my anger in check. I’m pissed—at her for doing what she did—and because...”You know what? After last night, I thought I’d be okay with it. I’ve always been honest with you. You ask, I answer. That’s how this worked. But it’s not enough, huh? You had to go through my stuff!”
“Ky—”
“No, Maddy. You know everything about me. I’ve laid it all out for you. Everything. And after the shit with Ashlee—the hurt she fucking caused me—you should know that I wouldn’t deal with secrets. And I shouldn’t fucking have to.”
“I’m the one with secrets?” she yells. “She messaged you two days ago, Ky.”
“Jesus Christ, Maddy, you went through my messages!”
She flinches, then narrows her eyes at me. “So what if I did! Don’t get all high and mighty and act like you’re better than me when you’re talking to your ex!”
I stand up, pulling at my hair in frustration. I glare down at her and try to calm my racing heart. “You honestly think that I’d do whatever it is you’re suggesting? I’ve been all about you, Madison, ever since the first day I fucking saw you.”
She explodes. “So why are you talking to her?”
I start pacing. Her eyes follow me from her spot on the couch. Then I admit the truth. “Because it feels good, okay? It feels nice to have her talk to me—have her apologize and want me back. And for me to be able to tell her to fuck off because I thought I’d found someone better.”
Her gaze lowers.
It just makes me more pissed. “I don’t even know how to feel right now. You’re mad for whatever reason, and I’m supposed to feel bad when you’re the one that avoids anything personal.” I don’t even know if it’s the fact that she went through my stuff, or the fact that we’re talking about Ashlee, or the unresolved argument we had last night. But whatever it is, I keep going, keep pushing for her to fight back. “You don’t tell me anything about yourself or your past. I know fuck-all about you. You say you’re from around here, but then you tell me you don’t know the area that well...”
She visibly swallows.
I add, “What were you like in high school, Madison? Did you date? Did you have boys falling at your feet? Oh, I bet you were so damn sweet and innocent you didn’t know you had guys after you. Yeah…” I release a bitter laugh, nodding my head as I do. “I bet you were that girl.” I pause, watching her eyes turn to stone. “Have you got brothers and sisters? What are your parents like? How did you lose your virginity—”
“Stop it,” she bites out, her teeth clenched.
I stop pacing and face her. “Okay, so I guess all of those questions are off limits.” I tap my finger on my chin. “Let’s go with something easy then. How about what high school did you go to?”
Her face turns red—lips pressed as she tries to contain her sob. Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Stop it, Ky.” She’s almost begging now.
And I almost cave.
Almost give in to her.
Again.
“No, Maddy, I’m not going—”
She stands up, picks up her frame, holds it to her chest, and then looks right at me.
And my heart stops.
I’ve seen that same look too many times before.
From Jackson.
From Christine.
She’s pissed.
But beyond that, she’s disappointed.
She opens her mouth, I assume to speak, but nothing comes out. I watch as she makes her way to the door.
I sit on the coffee table, my elbows resting on my knees and my head lowered. Then I hear the door click.
“Madison.”
“What?”
I don’t look up. “If you walk out right now—because you’re too damn scared to open up to me—then don’t bother coming back.” I sniff, trying to keep it together. “I’m done chasing you.”
17
KY “DO YOU THINK these sessions help you at all?” Doctor Aroma asks.
“No.”
“Yet you keep coming back.”
“What?” I sit up straighter. “I have a choice?”
She flips open a folder—my file—and skims the pages. “Oh yeah. You have to be here.”
I sigh and roll my eyes at the same time. “Trust you to get my hopes up over nothing.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” I ask, the irritation in my voice clear as day.
She doesn’t skip a beat. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“Do you trust anyone?”
I press my lips tighter.
“Do you think you have trust issues?”
“Shouldn’t you be the judge of that? I’ve been sitting here for how many sessions now and you’re still asking me things that you should be working out.”
“You don’t give off much, Ky.”
“Maybe that’s my choice.”
“So you choose to be closed off and not trust anyone?”
Tapping my foot impatiently, I shrug and look out her window.
“Sucks for anyone that tries to get close to you, Ky. Especially if they love you. Or plan on loving you one of these days.”
“Are you talking about Madison?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m talking about a certain detective that feels your pain enough to make you talk to someone about it.”
“So I don’t I have to be here?”
“I didn’t say that.”
***
You know what sucks? Being mad at the world and not having an outlet. I’m too injured to train, and too pissed at myself to care.
I sleep on the couch, or attempt to, anyway. I don’t want to miss it when those three knocks sound at my door. The quiet timid knocks that let me know that Madison’s on the other side. I’ve imagined it so many times—the way she’d smile when I opened the door wide. Her smile was always shy—like she wasn’t expecting me to be on the other side, happily accepting her company. I’d even get up occasionally and peek through the peephole, eying the hallway, hoping she’d be there.
For two days, I didn’t leave my apartment, just wishing to god I’d hear that sound.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Nothing.
It never came. And by the third day of nothing, I’d given up hope. I know. I should’ve just taken the two steps from my apartment to hers and be the one to deliver the knocks, but that would mean me giving in to her again.
I gave her an opening, and I gave her an out.
She chose the out.
And the worst part—she left me thinking about Ashlee. The girl I held on such a high pedestal. Just like I did with Madison. Maybe it was my fault—the way I let girls treat me.
What Ashlee and I had—I thought was easy. There was no effort to be together. We didn’t fuck with each other’s heads. Maybe that was the reason she decided to fuck some other guy, but until that happened, I thought we were perfect.
When Madison and I were together—we were far, far, from perfect.
We weren’t even really that good.
“Ky—”
“No, Maddy. You know everything about me. I’ve laid it all out for you. Everything. And after the shit with Ashlee—the hurt she fucking caused me—you should know that I wouldn’t deal with secrets. And I shouldn’t fucking have to.”
“I’m the one with secrets?” she yells. “She messaged you two days ago, Ky.”
“Jesus Christ, Maddy, you went through my messages!”
She flinches, then narrows her eyes at me. “So what if I did! Don’t get all high and mighty and act like you’re better than me when you’re talking to your ex!”
I stand up, pulling at my hair in frustration. I glare down at her and try to calm my racing heart. “You honestly think that I’d do whatever it is you’re suggesting? I’ve been all about you, Madison, ever since the first day I fucking saw you.”
She explodes. “So why are you talking to her?”
I start pacing. Her eyes follow me from her spot on the couch. Then I admit the truth. “Because it feels good, okay? It feels nice to have her talk to me—have her apologize and want me back. And for me to be able to tell her to fuck off because I thought I’d found someone better.”
Her gaze lowers.
It just makes me more pissed. “I don’t even know how to feel right now. You’re mad for whatever reason, and I’m supposed to feel bad when you’re the one that avoids anything personal.” I don’t even know if it’s the fact that she went through my stuff, or the fact that we’re talking about Ashlee, or the unresolved argument we had last night. But whatever it is, I keep going, keep pushing for her to fight back. “You don’t tell me anything about yourself or your past. I know fuck-all about you. You say you’re from around here, but then you tell me you don’t know the area that well...”
She visibly swallows.
I add, “What were you like in high school, Madison? Did you date? Did you have boys falling at your feet? Oh, I bet you were so damn sweet and innocent you didn’t know you had guys after you. Yeah…” I release a bitter laugh, nodding my head as I do. “I bet you were that girl.” I pause, watching her eyes turn to stone. “Have you got brothers and sisters? What are your parents like? How did you lose your virginity—”
“Stop it,” she bites out, her teeth clenched.
I stop pacing and face her. “Okay, so I guess all of those questions are off limits.” I tap my finger on my chin. “Let’s go with something easy then. How about what high school did you go to?”
Her face turns red—lips pressed as she tries to contain her sob. Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Stop it, Ky.” She’s almost begging now.
And I almost cave.
Almost give in to her.
Again.
“No, Maddy, I’m not going—”
She stands up, picks up her frame, holds it to her chest, and then looks right at me.
And my heart stops.
I’ve seen that same look too many times before.
From Jackson.
From Christine.
She’s pissed.
But beyond that, she’s disappointed.
She opens her mouth, I assume to speak, but nothing comes out. I watch as she makes her way to the door.
I sit on the coffee table, my elbows resting on my knees and my head lowered. Then I hear the door click.
“Madison.”
“What?”
I don’t look up. “If you walk out right now—because you’re too damn scared to open up to me—then don’t bother coming back.” I sniff, trying to keep it together. “I’m done chasing you.”
17
KY “DO YOU THINK these sessions help you at all?” Doctor Aroma asks.
“No.”
“Yet you keep coming back.”
“What?” I sit up straighter. “I have a choice?”
She flips open a folder—my file—and skims the pages. “Oh yeah. You have to be here.”
I sigh and roll my eyes at the same time. “Trust you to get my hopes up over nothing.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” I ask, the irritation in my voice clear as day.
She doesn’t skip a beat. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“Do you trust anyone?”
I press my lips tighter.
“Do you think you have trust issues?”
“Shouldn’t you be the judge of that? I’ve been sitting here for how many sessions now and you’re still asking me things that you should be working out.”
“You don’t give off much, Ky.”
“Maybe that’s my choice.”
“So you choose to be closed off and not trust anyone?”
Tapping my foot impatiently, I shrug and look out her window.
“Sucks for anyone that tries to get close to you, Ky. Especially if they love you. Or plan on loving you one of these days.”
“Are you talking about Madison?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m talking about a certain detective that feels your pain enough to make you talk to someone about it.”
“So I don’t I have to be here?”
“I didn’t say that.”
***
You know what sucks? Being mad at the world and not having an outlet. I’m too injured to train, and too pissed at myself to care.
I sleep on the couch, or attempt to, anyway. I don’t want to miss it when those three knocks sound at my door. The quiet timid knocks that let me know that Madison’s on the other side. I’ve imagined it so many times—the way she’d smile when I opened the door wide. Her smile was always shy—like she wasn’t expecting me to be on the other side, happily accepting her company. I’d even get up occasionally and peek through the peephole, eying the hallway, hoping she’d be there.
For two days, I didn’t leave my apartment, just wishing to god I’d hear that sound.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Nothing.
It never came. And by the third day of nothing, I’d given up hope. I know. I should’ve just taken the two steps from my apartment to hers and be the one to deliver the knocks, but that would mean me giving in to her again.
I gave her an opening, and I gave her an out.
She chose the out.
And the worst part—she left me thinking about Ashlee. The girl I held on such a high pedestal. Just like I did with Madison. Maybe it was my fault—the way I let girls treat me.
What Ashlee and I had—I thought was easy. There was no effort to be together. We didn’t fuck with each other’s heads. Maybe that was the reason she decided to fuck some other guy, but until that happened, I thought we were perfect.
When Madison and I were together—we were far, far, from perfect.
We weren’t even really that good.
