Pained

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Pained Page 21

by Vera Hollins


  My body leaned closer to him on its own. The mood between us shifted once more. “What?”

  He locked his jaw and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me,” I whispered. Without conscious thought, I moved and covered his hand that rested on the mattress.

  He flinched and looked at my hand, frowning. I feared he would pull his hand away, but he didn’t. “Why?”

  My pulse beat madly in my throat. “Because... Because you matter to me.” I tightened my grip around his hand, feeling exposed. My eyes went to his scar, and I wished I could touch it, definitely not for the first time. “I want to know everything about you.”

  His breathing sped up. “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  He sucked in a quick breath, taking in every line of my face with undiluted hunger. He balanced his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and met my gaze.

  “I felt at peace there,” he said hoarsely. “I felt like...”

  I leaned even closer to him. “Yes?”

  He swallowed. “Like I belonged there.”

  Oh, Hayden.

  My eyes glistened as I drowned in the sea of feelings he produced in me. He felt exactly the same way I felt when I stepped into his room for the first time. Like I belonged here.

  I raised his hand to my mouth and brushed my lips over his scraped knuckles, never breaking our gaze. His eyes grew darker, his breathing heavier. He looked like he was in pain, and I wondered if his injuries hurt more than he let on.

  I placed his hand against my cheek and left a soft kiss on the base of his palm. His whole body was taut as he watched me. Just as I left another kiss, he grabbed my head with both hands, his nearly black eyes devouring me, and brought his lips to mine—

  His ringtone broke the silence, along with the spell that bound us together, and we drew away from each other with a flinch. He hissed, as if the sudden movement brought him pain.

  “I can’t believe this,” he said, his features immersed in anger. He snatched his iPhone from his nightstand and groaned when he saw the caller ID. “Fuck.” He turned his back to me. “What?” he growled in response.

  I brought my gaze to my lap. My heart was racing. We almost kissed...

  “Shit. No. I can’t fight this week.” I whipped my head at him, my anxiety rising as he listened intently to the person on the other side of the line. “My ribs are bruised, man. It hurts like shit each time I move, and I’m popping painkillers like candy.”

  He couldn’t be thinking about fighting so soon. It would only worsen his condition. I tugged my ponytail once, twice, trying to tighten it, but my nervous habit did nothing to steady my nerves.

  “Fuck. Tell him I can’t. It’s not like I have a fucking choice.” He got madder with each second he listened, and I felt uncomfortable watching him like this. “Fuck him. If he’s going to make an issue out of it, I’ll be ready for him. What part of ‘bruised ribs’ isn’t clear? Set me against whoever you want when I recover, but right now there’s no fucking way.”

  No. No, no, no. I didn’t want him to fight. No more.

  “If he has a problem with it, he knows where to find me,” he snarled and ended the call, throwing his phone on his nightstand. It hit the surface with a loud thud and slid to a stop near the edge. A heavy weight dropped in the pit of my stomach. He was in trouble.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He clutched his head, groaning with pain. “That son of a bitch... Fucking motherfucker—”

  “Hayden?”

  “What?” he barked, his body exuding tension. He didn’t face me.

  “Are you forced to fight?”

  He clenched his fists. “That’s not your problem.”

  I stood up and went around his bed. I crouched in front of him, suddenly feeling cold. His eyes held blazing fury as he stared back at me. “I’m worried about you, Hayden. I—”

  “Just because I was about to make the mistake of kissing you a minute ago, that doesn’t give you the right to—”

  “A mistake?” I raised my voice without intending to, my chest heavy. “But we both wanted it!”

  “Why did you leave me?” he asked the same question as yesterday, surprising me.

  I looked away. I was completely unprepared for this question.

  “Just as I thought,” he let out darkly. “You can’t even answer that and you want me to believe you?” His eyes filled with ice.

  “I can answer!” I stood up, too embarrassed to lay open my feelings that easily.

  “Then why can’t you say it?!” He drew himself up to his full height and let out a grunt of pain. “Why do you have to be so weak about everything?”

  I winced, instantly reminded of the words he said to me in the hospital. He’d despised my weakness from day one.

  “Do you think I love being weak?” I fired back at him. My cheeks flamed, but I refused to crawl back into my shell. “I hate myself for being this way. I hate myself for being weak and unable to say what I want to say! I want to be stronger, but I have my own demons, and I thought you would understand that because you have them, too. You have the same demons that drag you down and make you unable to say what you want to say because you’re so filled with distrust that sometimes you feel like there is no goodness in the world! Everyone exists to use you and stab you in the back. You interpret every single look or action from others like something that is directed against you, and you can’t do anything about it. You’ll always regard something in a negative way first before you try to fight yourself and see it in a positive way.”

  I was panting hard. Pain formed in the back of my head.

  “Here is my answer: you hurt me so much before, Hayden. So much. You gave me so many scars that never healed. I couldn’t forgive you then. It didn’t matter how I felt about you, because I couldn’t get over my pain. It was too fresh and raw, and I wasn’t ready to be with you.”

  His eyes... His eyes ravaged everything in me. They were shadowed with pain and loneliness, evoking a pang deep in my chest. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, repeating it a few times, like I’d seen him do before.

  “As time passed, I realized I couldn’t get you out of my head. I realized I want to make you happy. I want to touch you and...” I closed my eyes. “I want to kiss you,” I whispered, sheepish, but I needed him to know this. I needed him to know he wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

  I took a step toward him, but he didn’t move. He continued taking deep breaths as he looked at me silently, clenching and unclenching his hands. Why didn’t he say anything?

  “Please, say something.” He remained silent, trying to control his breathing. My eyes went to his mouth when he opened it to take another long breath. “Why are you breathing like that?”

  He looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “It helps me calm down when I feel like a complete shit.”

  I took another step to him. “Did you learn that in your therapy?” I asked, still looking at his mouth.

  His whole body grew rigid. He turned his head slowly to look at me, his eyes narrowing to slits. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  I blenched. “I—”

  “How the fuck do you know about my therapy?”

  Damn it.

  Mrs. Black told me about his BPD because she wanted me to give up on him, but I’d always hoped she spoke to him about our conversation. For some reason, she didn’t tell him anything, and I felt disappointed.

  I stepped back, my nerves running rampant through me. I had to tell him the truth. I couldn’t lie or keep quiet about it. “Mrs. Black told me.”

  His eyes flared with fury. “When?”

  I took another step back. “When I woke up in the hospital after Josh’s attack.”

  His eyes widened, his muscles tensing in growing anger. “What did she tell you?” his voice was shaky, almost unrecognizable under venom and rage.

  I took yet another step back and bumped into his desk. I wanted him to kn
ow the truth, but I didn’t want him to be like this. “Hayden—”

  “What did she tell you?!” He closed the distance between us and trapped me between him and the desk.

  I tried to make my voice as calm as possible. “She told me about your condition. She told me about BPD.”

  His hands fisted on his sides, and my heart throbbed for him. I finally realized how wrong Mrs. Black was. She did this behind his back. She did this to protect me, but she disregarded Hayden’s feelings, acting like they were unimportant and irrelevant. She didn’t she trust me to be the right person for him, but she also didn’t trust her own son to be able to fight his demons and have a happy relationship. She’d written him off as a lost cause.

  I understood that she had good intentions and wanted to save us from a potential heartbreak and suffering, but she should’ve taken into account our feelings and the possibility that we would make it work.

  “You know about my disorder?” His voice was deepened by hurt and shame.

  “Yes.”

  He closed his eyes shut and stepped back, his fists shaking. “You know everything... You knew all this time...” To my dismay, his cheeks turned red, and I stared at him slack-jawed. Hayden never blushed. He glared at me, his eyes giving away how betrayed he felt. “Why did she tell you that?”

  I felt like I was treading a thin line. What was the best way to tell him? How could I tell him anything without dealing a devastating blow?

  “She...” I looked at my feet, unable to return his gaze. “She thought I wasn’t the right person for you.” His breathing became ragged. “She wanted me to know how difficult BPD relationships can be. She... She thought I wasn’t strong enough to stay with you through everything.”

  I looked at him tentatively, and I felt a slice deep within me when the intensity of his emotions hit me. There was so much pain on his face, along with disappointment and rage. This was eating him from the inside out, and I was afraid this would only cement his distrust toward the world. If he couldn’t believe his own mother...

  “She had good intentions, Hayden. She just didn’t want us to experience the same difficulties as she and your—”

  “Is that why you left me?” he interrupted me furiously.

  What? I frowned. “No! I already told you why I left you. Your disorder doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “You’re lying! You thought I was a crazy motherfucker who would snap and lose it any moment! You thought I deserved to be locked away from everyone and rot alone until I died!”

  Why was he saying these ridiculous things? Was it possible that these were his own thoughts? “I never thought anything like that. In fact, I think—”

  “I get it now. That was why that bitch, Melissa, said I was a crazy psycho. You told her everything!”

  Enough! “No, Hayden. Listen to me.” I approached him and caught his forearms. “Listen to me.”

  “Take your hands off me,” he hissed.

  “I’ve never told anyone anything. Knowing about your disorder just helped me understand you better—”

  “You don’t understand shit! No one could ever understand! Take your hands off me!” His muscles were strained under my hands, but he didn’t move. He didn’t try to separate me from him or push me away, which was the only reason why I still held him.

  “I want to understand. I want to be here for you and help you—”

  His eyes grew wide, and he snatched his arms away. “You just said the same thing my mother did. ‘I want to be here for you and help you,’” he quoted derisively. “And look how that turned out. I was a stupid fool for believing that bitch! She did this behind my back. She didn’t have the right to tell you anything!” His veins popped out on his temples and neck.

  No, no, no. He looked like he was going to do something terrible.

  “She’ll pay for this. I’ll show that bitch who she’s messing with.”

  He turned around and darted to the door. What the hell?

  “No!” I rushed toward him and wound my arms around his waist to stop him, hugging him below his injured ribs as gently as possible. He went stock-still, and I was afraid I’d just made things worse... “Don’t! Don’t do that! It won’t help or solve this. She didn’t mean anything bad.”

  He was shaking. I rested my cheek against his back. I had no idea what I was doing, relying on my instincts to move my body.

  “I’ve never thought any less of you because you have a disorder, Hayden. Your BPD has nothing to do with my decision not to be with you. Do you know what I felt when she told me everything? I felt sorry that you’ve been through so much—”

  “I don’t need you to pity me,” he spat out.

  “I never pitied you. I admire you. I admire you because you went through so much and you are still you. You’re capable of so many beautiful things... The way you express your emotions... How smart you are... Everything you do, you do it perfectly. You’re talented in so many things. You’re impressive and impossible to forget.”

  He still didn’t move, his breaths uneven, but I noticed his trembling was slightly subdued.

  “I don’t want you to suffer. I don’t want you to feel any pain. And I want to make you happy. I realized my feelings for you are stronger than the pain, and I don’t want to remind myself over and over again of the past. I want to believe in a different future. I want to make happy memories. With you.”

  Countless seconds passed in silence, both of us unmoving, and my chest felt so tight. I fought to calm down my breathing, but his strong body against my own was too much for me. I was excited and restless at the same time. Please, Hayden...

  If I moved my head just a little bit I could press my lips against his back, but I didn’t dare. I could feel his erratic heartbeat beneath my cheek... There was something intoxicating about listening to his heart. Please... Believe me.

  A moment later, he covered my hands with his and left them there, and I drank in this new feeling.

  He wasn’t trembling anymore, but his breathing had yet to return to normal. “Why are you doing this? Is it because you want to protect my mother from my outburst?”

  I wished I could hug him more tightly, but it wasn’t possible because of his injuries. “No. It’s quite the opposite.”

  “Opposite?”

  “I want to protect you from your outburst because I get how terrible it would make you feel. I don’t want you to surround yourself with all those negative emotions. I want to help you focus on positive ones.”

  “And why is that? Why do you want to do that for me?”

  I let out a sigh and closed my eyes. I inhaled his scent, addicted to it. I had to say it. I needed to say it.

  No more lying. No more running away. He heard it when Mateo blurted it out, but it was meaningless if he never heard it from me. He needed to hear it from me.

  “Because I love you.”

  He stiffened for a second, taking in a sharp breath, and he winced. I tried to move my hands off him to give him space, but he didn’t let me, holding them firmly beneath his. His heart thumped too fast and loud.

  “Repeat it.”

  I opened my eyes with a throb in my chest. I was confessing. I was finally saying it out loud.

  “I love you, Hayden.”

  “Say it again.”

  I smiled. “I love you.”

  “Again.”

  My smile grew huge. “I love you.”

  “Not enough.”

  I giggled and brought my lips to his back, kissing him softly. Happiness permeated me, and I felt... I felt carefree. This was right. This was how it was supposed to be.

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  He took my hand and kissed each fingertip slowly, before he took my other hand and did the same thing. I shuddered, already melting.

  “You said you didn’t care about me in the hospital.”

  Hayden... That ever-present doubt
...

  “I lied. I’m so sorry. I’m ashamed that I lied so I could get you to leave, but it wasn’t easy for me. You can’t even imagine how much it hurt. I regret lying and saying those hurtful words to you.”

  He clutched my hands like they were his lifeline. “I’m struggling so much to believe you. You confuse me.”

  I nestled closer to him. “I know. And... You confuse me too.”

  His heart thundered in his chest. “How can you love me? After everything I’ve done... And all the things I will do... I’ll make you suffer. I’ll hurt you so much, and I won’t be even able to stop it.”

  “Don’t think so poorly of yourself, Hayden. You have to believe you can do much better.”

  “But that is who I am. I’m a monster.”

  Oh God, he seriously considered himself a monster. Just like Jessica had said, his past deeds were eating him alive, and now, more than ever, I regretted telling him he was a monster. All those things he’d done were horrible, but he wasn’t heartless and evil. I’d misjudged him completely.

  “You’re not a monster. Please, don’t ever think that about yourself. I’m so sorry for saying that and for misjudging you.” I placed another kiss on his back. “Monsters aren’t able to feel. Monsters aren’t able to feel love and sacrifice their life for those they care about. You’re in pain, and this pain makes you do those terrible things—”

  “You don’t know my pain.”

  “Then help me understand. I want to know what it’s like so I can help you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I’ve survived you so far.”

  He turned around. His eyes seared into me, stealing my breath, and I basked in the feelings he instigated in me. He took my right hand and pressed it against his chest. I felt the fast, maddening tempo of his heartbeat that matched mine.

  “You see what you’re doing to me?” He traced his fingers over my left arm and shoulder, creating tingles everywhere he touched, and palmed my cheek. It felt so good.

  It was unbelievable. Everything was out of the blue, and I had yet to get to grips with what was happening between us now. His eyes held such warmth that everything negative in me started thawing away. I was afraid to move because, if I moved, this beautiful dream might end.

 

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