Page 67 of The Confidant

“Hey, Addie,” an old familiar voice calls from behind me, drawing me out of my thoughts right when I was about to smile.

I try not to let out the sound of disgust that wants to pop out. If it isn’t William, the ex. Why not add another little drama to my life? Thanks so much.

I can hear William’s feet jogging to catch up to me. I hope he trips on air and knocks himself out.

This man helped demolish my sense of self-esteem with his ridiculous insistence on changing everything about me when we got together. I’m too clingy. I act crazy instead of being spontaneous. The final straw was him seeing my scars when I stayed with him one night. It was a drunken night I’ll never repeat.

I’m nowveryaware of why we had so many arguments about my behavior. I didn’t want to give in an inch. I wanted to be me, whether he liked it or not. In the back of my head, I could hear Maman’s voice over his demands. She’s not the only one who wants me to ‘be better than I am’.

William is one of Damon’s friends from high school, so I still try to be polite. He makes it difficult, though. I’m not in the mood for his petty antics today.

He finally gets to my side and gives me a wide, insincere smile. Whatever he wants, it’s nothing good.

“I heard you’re closing up shop.” He starts off strong with a smug grin.

The emotional punch to my solar plexus stays hidden. Damon must be keeping him in the loop about my life. I need to ask him to stop as soon as possible.

“Hey, William. How’s your mom?” I ask without breaking stride. Two can play the petty game. He had to move back in with his parents a few months after we broke up. I feel bad for them. I only ever ask how they are, never him. It irritates him, and I love that.

“Good,” his voice tightens the faintest amount. I smirk without taking my eyes off my destination. I wish I were already inside my apartment.

“Damon claims you’re dating again.”

He makes it sound as if separating from him crushed me so bad that I couldn’t get back out there. It’s more like he exhausted me to the point of avoiding dating. It might be splitting hairs, but it counts to me. I wasn’t crying my eyes out for days on end. I enjoyed the peace and quiet. He had a girlfriend within a week. There wasn’t much heartbreak all the way around.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I stop to give him a bland expression of boredom.

“I was just catching up with you,” he turns to me with narrowed eyes. I used to think the brown irises were beautiful. Now they’re just eyes. Creepy eyes, actually. And he’s blond. The realization makes me want to gag.

“Consider us all caught up then. I’m not in the mood to pretend you aren’t skeezy tonight. Later.”

I walk away faster, but he keeps up, his mocking smile turning into a frown.

“Don’t take your failures out on me,” he protests. “I’m trying to make sure you’re doing ok.”

Yeah, I’m cutting this off tonight. No more fake politeness or sassy sarcasm. I want this problem gone. I have enough on my plate without adding him to the mix.

“I was. Then I saw you. You know how much I hate leftovers.”

“What the fuck?” He grabs my arm, right above my elbow, and yanks me to a stop. The tight grip he has makes me wince before I firm up my lips.

He’s never been physical before. Things would have ended a lot faster if he had shown any signs of that.

Unless this has always been there and I've buried it deep in my head, like everything else I dislike.

This won’t stand. At all.

“Did I say you could touch me? You’re getting arrogant as hell,couyon. It’s not a good look.” The words escape me from between gritted teeth as I yank my arm. He won’t let go.

“What is your problem? I thought we were friends.” His glare is filled with an anger I don’t think I deserve.

“Friends who curse and barely tolerate each other, maybe. Consider this your notice. We don’t need to pretend to care about each other anymore. We’re done. Now, let me go. You’re headed down a road called kick him in the balls. Turn back now.” I dig my nails into the back of his hand to get him to turn me loose. His fingers tighten down more.

My phone starts ringing, but I’m too focused on getting away from thisfonchockto answer. I’m about to start yelling.

“Let go, crazy man!”

It’s already starting. My voice is so filled with fury that it echoes off the buildings. I’m going to be black and blue if he doesn’t let go.

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