Page 137 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
“No,” he says. “This,” wags a finger between us. “This fucking game we’ve been playing for the last year. Neither one of us is going to win so when does it stop?”
“I’m not playing a game.”
He pulls back a bit. “Really?”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re accusing me.”
“Because…” he sighs. “If you just broke up with Digby—”
“It will all go back to how it was?”
“Well, yeah.”
I look at him. A bit annoyed.
“It wouldn’t and you know that. Even if I wasn’t with Digby, I still wouldn’t have run back to you the second I saw you on that rooftop.”
“Yes, you would’ve,” he tells me, matter of factly.
I frown, give him a look. “That’s not true.”
He runs a hand through his hair, nods to himself and leans back in his seat with a little laugh and to be honest, I don’t like the way he’s acting right now.
“I think it’s best if you leave me alone, now, Arthur. I don’t want to argue with you.”
He shrugs, the way he used to in school when he would argue with the teachers. “We’re not arguing.”
“Well it feels like you came in here to start an argument.”
“You just got your body violated online! Why would I come in here to have a go at you?”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
He huffs out a dry laugh, turns to face me. “It’s not my fucking fault.”
“I never said it was!”
“Stop acting like it is, then!”
“I’m not!”
“For someone who’s supposedly meant to have been in therapy for the last three years, you're not acting like it.”
I laugh. “Pot meets kettle.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah? Fuck you.”
He gets up, walks towards the door.
“Tell Digby I want him!” I call, twisting around to see him storm out of the room.
“Tell him yourself!” He calls back, slamming the door.
