Page 21 of Captured Immune

She dips her eyebrows at me like she’s offended. “No.”

“Do you just enjoy torturing me?”

“Of course not.”

I throw my hands into the air. “Then what? Why won’t you take my money?”

“Because!” she yells. “I don’t want it!”

The room goes silent.

I feel like shit, and it’s not from the hangover. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at her. I want to apologize, but what ends up coming out is a broken “What was I missing?”

“Huh?”

“You know...” I choke up a little. “What doeshehave that I don’t?”

She lets out an exasperated groan. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

My tone goes soft and desperate. “Please, Arella. Just tell me.”And don’t try to spare my feelings. I’m already a fucking mess.

“I don’t know, Trey.”

“Yes, you do. There was obviouslysomethingthat made you choose him over me. What was it?”

“I don’t know. I guess he just... he just made me happy.”

An invisible dagger stabs me right in the chest. I swallow, but it does nothing to ease the ache. My gaze falls to my feet. “I... I... I thoughtImade you happy.”

At least, sheseemedhappy. She laughed a lot. I made it a point to get her to smile as much as I could. What could I have done more?

I should stop asking her questions, because every answer she gives only breaks me more. The smart thing to do would be to leave. I got what I wanted: to hear the truth from her. I should be done here. So why don’t I want to go?

I’ve never been known to do the smart thing, so I ask another question. “Do you love him?”

She gets to her feet. “I’m done with this.”

I steal her hand, pulling her back down. She comes willingly, and I lift her chin to look her in the eyes. “Arella, please. Tell me. Do you love him?”

“No.”

It might be foolish of me, but I believe her. The sincerity in her eyes tells me it’s the truth, and I’m relieved. On the back of our photo, she wrote that she lovesme, not him. As pathetic as it is, I want that to be true.

A loud, mechanic buzzing sound comes from her hallway, startling me.

“That’s the dryer.” She releases herself from my grasp. I’m left feeling hollow as she disappears from my sight.

She returns with my clothes in hand. They’re warm as I dress myself.I guess this is my cue to leave.

I shove my phone and wallet into my pockets. “Where are my keys?”

“You walked here, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” I press a hand against the side of the coffee mug I forgot I had. It’s cooled down enough for me to drink, so I down it all in one breath.

“Would you like a ride home?” she asks as I rinse the mug out in her kitchen sink.

“No, thanks.” I don’t deserve anything she’s got to offer.

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