Page 63 of Fighting for You
Margot rushes in the opposite direction, and it takes everything in me not to shove Tiffany onto the ground so I can run after her. “Tiffany, move.” The command in my voice isenough to make her drop the act and draw back whatever body parts of hers she had draped on me.
She gives me a fake-ass pout before bringing her hand back up to my chest. “Come on, baby—”
“I said get the fuck up, Tiffany.” Finally, she peels herself out of the booth with me right behind her. I stand up, and she grabs onto my arm one more time.
“Brooks, wait—” She doesn’t get another word out before I’m flinging her off of me. The music stops. Everyone’s chatter dies down, all eyes on us and the commotion we’re causing. I wish I could say I give a damn, but I really fucking don’t.
“No, Tiffany. I didn’t want you last Christmas or six months ago or two months ago, and I sure as hell don’t want you now. Is that clear enough for you?”
She looks around, noticing all the eyes on us, and tears start streaming down her face as she nods her head in response. It doesn’t surprise me that I don’t care about her crying, it doesn’t affect me the way Margot’s tears do.
I try not to think about it too much as I push past the crowd of people. Opening the door, the chilly night air hits me. Margot is walking toward the small parking area next to the building. She’s not too far ahead of me, but I hesitate, scrambling for what I’ll say when I catch up with her.
“Margot,” I shout from across the street. She stops in her tracks but doesn’t turn around. “Come on, wait up. It didn’t mean anything.”
I’m almost to her now when she turns around to look at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and stained from the tears running down her cheeks. I feel a crippling pang in my chest again at the sight. It’s no easier the second time.
“Us or her?” Her voice is quiet, almost reserved.
Her question gives me pause. Why would she think I meant us? “Her, obviously.”
“Is it obvious, Brooks?” she shoots back, her voice now laced with venom.
My blood starts boiling again. I came out here to apologize, maybe make things right. I wasn’t planning on another fight. “I don’t know what you want me to say, it’s not like we’re exclusive.”
“Clearly,” she says as she turns back around, once again walking toward her car.
“I fucking warned you, Margot,” I call to her back, like saying ‘I told you so’ will make anything better in this situation. She opens the door to her car and spins in place to look at me again.
“Warned me about what, Brooks?” she asks, her voice breaking on my name and splintering my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible. “You didn’t warn me I’d have to see other women draped all over you the next time you asked me out. See them kiss you. Why did you even invite me here?”
I fucking hate Tiffany.
“I warned you I wasn’t good at this.”
There’s a sudden flip of a switch, and her sadness turns to bitter anger. Her face is all twisted up, and even in the dark, her cheeks are flaming red. “Stop making excuses! Stop blaming this on everyone but yourself. You knew you invited me here tonight, you even read my text confirming I was on my way. You knew I’d see her hanging on you when I walked in. Y-You know how I feel about you. Why would you hurt me on purpose? Do you get off on being cruel?” She’s almost yelling now. Anyone outside of Louie’s will get an earful of our conversation.
“Look, I told you not to get attached to me. And now you’re acting like some lovesick teenager after her first time.”
Her keys drop to the ground. Her face morphs into a kind of fury I’ve never seen from her before. “Want to know why, Brooks? Because itwasmy first time. And I regret sharing itwith you of all people. I don’t need another person in my life who still sees me as a child.”
I’m shocked into silence. She can’t—that can’t be true. There’s no way. She would have told me. She bends down to grab her keys before getting into her car.
“Fuck you, Brooks,” is the last thing I hear before she slams the door and peels out of the parking lot.
I’m still standing in the same spot five minutes after her tail lights disappear around the corner. Still trying to figure out what just happened. I’m going back through all the time we spent together, trying to pinpoint how I didn’t see it. She never once implied she was a virgin. She didn’t act inexperienced. Nothing about our time together could have prepared me for the bomb she just dropped in my lap.
I stole her virginity, made her think I was an option, then I threw another girl in her face. And for what? Just to prove someone else right?
I know my feelings for Margot are real. I know what we have—or had—is real. I showed her the real me, and once she saw me, she never judged like everyone else has, she embraced it. But I fucked it up. I took a perfect woman, a woman who was willing to take a chance on me, and I fucked her over. I called her a teenager when I’m the one acting like a child because I’m scared. Fuck me.
I’m a monster. A real life, full-blown monster of a man. Someone who shouldn’t be around anyone because all I do is make shit worse. At least Margot knows now. At least she’s seen the worst and won’t look at me with hope I don’t deserve anymore.
My heart is racing with anxiety. I can’t get the broken look on her face out of my mind. I think it might haunt me for the rest of my life.
I’m not sure how long it is before I’m heading back toward Louie’s, back to the scene of the crime. The first person I see is Tiffany, her eyes light up when she notices I’m alone. I turn in the opposite direction, throwing my middle finger her way from over my shoulder. Just as I make it back to the booth to grab my jacket, Ripley sidles up beside me, ignorant to everything that just occurred. I have no idea where he’s been all night. I saw him for two seconds then he was gone until now.
“Hey, Brooks. Where’s Margie? She still coming?”
