Page 83 of Xander
Well... I didn’t know if it could be mended back together to a somewhat working organ again.
I just didn’t fucking know.
I had just stepped outside, lit a cigarette, and taken a long pull when I felt the air shift.
I turned my head and locked eyes with hers.
She smiled softly, then she moved towards me, and for the first time since I met her, I shook my head at her.
She tried to mask her hurt... but I saw it.
She nodded, turned, and headed back inside.
I took a long pull from my cigarette.
Needing to wipe the hurt out of her eyes, but not knowing how.
Fuck.
***
I stood there as I watched her wait for my answer.
The question she just asked me.
If I would go with her to a wedding, she was invited to attend by someone she works with.
I wanted to go with her.
I wanted to be by her side.
But I didn’t want to ruin her.
I didn’t want them looking at me, then looking at her, and asking why in the hell she was with a man like me.
Couldn’t they see the dirt I was?
Couldn’t they see that I didn’t deserve to be breathing in the same oxygen as her?
In the end... when I didn’t answer her, I watched as her shoulders dropped, and then she turned and walked away from me.
***
Hours later, I made it up to my room, and then I opened the door.
She was sitting on the bed facing me, then she asked, “Xander? What are we doing?”
I lifted a brow, “What do you mean?”
I wondered when this conversation was going to take place.
When she would get tired of my shit.
And simply give up on me and walk away.
I wondered if I could let her go.
And as I stared into her golden, tawny, flecked colored eyes, something punched me right in the sternum.
