Page 27 of The Destruction You Desire
Her words cut, but I know they're exactly what I deserve.
Ripping her eyes from mine, she turns to Leon, looking up at him like he's someone special.
My fists curl and I take a step forward but the second Leon looks at me, I stop.
The darkness in his eyes, the coldness in his green orbs rocks me to my core.
What the hell?
Before I get to do anything, say anything, I'm forced to watch as Peyton wraps her hand around his upper arm and all but pulls him inside.
Neither of them look back at me, they just dismiss me as if I'm nothing. No one. Insignificant.
It fucking hurts.
Spinning around, my fist finds the trunk of the tree at the end of the yard as an incensed roar rips from my throat and echoes down the deserted street.
Hanging my head, I take a second to revel in the pain that shoots up my arm from the hit, focusing on that instead of the agonizing ache in my chest.
I don't want to do it, but it seems my need to torture myself knows no bounds because before I walk away from the house, leaving Leon inside with my girl, I look back.
Neither of them are there but the older lady from the day before is. She stands in the doorway with her brows drawn together in concern.
Her lips part to say something but she quickly closes them again when I shake my head.
My body aches with exhaustion as I turn away from her worried stare and make my way down the street.
I barely slept last night. After she threw up in her sleep, I was too worried that she might do it again. Well, that's what I told myself. The reality was that I couldn't bear not to make the most of her sleeping beside me.
Just like last weekend in the pool house, I sat beside her and watched her every move. I studied every inch of her, once again noting the differences from the girl I used to know to the woman she’s become. Not that any of those differences matter because I didn't fall in love with what's on the outside—although she is beautiful—what I really fell in love with was the girl on the inside. Her soul. And despite all the bullshit, deep down, I know she's still the same person.
Why couldn't I have just believed her that day? Why did my stupid loyalties have to lie with my cunt of a sperm donor instead of the girl who'd proved time and time again that she would do anything for me?
What the hell is wrong with me that I would spend the last five years convincing myself that I was right, that I did the best thing. That protecting my family—my father—was the right thing to do.
Deep down, I think I knew. But I refused to accept it.
I wanted to believe that there was something redeemable about my father, that the controlling, forceful man that I see, the one who will literally steamroll his way through anyone to get what he wants isn't all he appears to be. I wanted to believe that he wouldn't do something so… something so treacherous, that he would cheat on his entire family, and not just with some random ex-jersey chaser that we all knew followed him around like lost puppies, but a kid. And not just a kid, but Peyton's sister.
My stomach turns over at the thought of him going after her and I heave into the flowerbed beside me, bringing up what little is left over from last night.
My stomach convulses trying to expel the disgust that's rolling through me.
I have no idea what's going to happen next with Peyton. My chest aches knowing that she has every right never to forgive me for not only turning my back on her five years ago, for calling her a liar, but for the past two weeks.
I've been… I've been just like my father.
I heave once more. My throat burns as nothing but bile comes up.
A sob rips up my throat as the reality of the situation slams into me like a truck.
The way I've treated her, the things I've said, the things I've implied.
I'm him.
I get no clarity with that realization, if anything the dark cloud that has already engulfed me only gets darker.
I move, although I don't realize it, and I don't come to a stop until I'm somewhere I know I can make it all go away.
