Page 87 of Blindsided
I cover my face with my hands because all of this hurts so much, I just want to cry.
Mac pounds his fist on the steering wheel and adds, “And I miss my best mate taking my fucking calls. I’ve been here for three weeks going through a lot of shite, Freya. I’m grieving, and all I want is to hear your voice.”
The pain in his tone causes tears to well in my eyes, and a sob breaks free from my throat. “Don’t you get it? I can’t take your calls without hurting, Mac,” I whine, sniffing loudly and swiping at the tears on my face. “I’m sorry…but am I supposed to sacrifice my own happiness for yours?”
“So talking to me hurts you,” he says it like a statement.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Why?”
“Because I’m in love with you, you cow!” I shriek, my voice breaking at the end with that honest admission that I never planned to say today. I don’t think I ever planned to say it because it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way, so why admit something that only makes you look more pathetic?
But admit it I have.
My voice is hoarse when I add, “And that’s why I can’t have casual sex with you anymore. I’m in love with you.”
Mac’s face flashes red as he blinks away his shock. “Why would you say this now?”
I look around the cab of the vehicle in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You decide to tell me something like that now…when I’m in Scotland, and I’ve just started with a new club. How the fuck do you see this working out, Freya?”
“I don’t, obviously,” I exclaim, my chest rising defensively. “Just like you never saw us working out together. The game is certainly up on that.”
He shakes his head, his jaw ticking with agitation. “Why did you come today? To make me feel guilty? To fuck with my head?”
“No, Mac. That’s not why I came,” I argue, hurt and confusion coursing through my veins. “I came because I heard you were struggling, and despite my feelings, I’m still trying to be your friend. I still care about you. Just in a different way.”
“Well, clearly you and I can hardly call each other friends anymore. You’ve made that decision for us.” Mac huffs out a laugh and adds, “Christ, I regret this.”
“Regret what?” I ask, my chin wobbling because I know what he’s going to say before he even says it.
“Adding sex to our friendship. You’re not experienced enough to be able to handle it maturely. You’re turning thirty soon, but sexually, you’re still a child. I should have known better.”
Pain.
Deep, soul-shaking, pain shoots through my heart.
“You’ve always been like this,” he growls, facing forward and shaking his head in disgust. “You sit around and wait for life to happen to you instead of grabbing it for yourself. It’s why you’re going to end up alone.”
His words are like a knife that keeps on twisting in my gut. And they confirm everything that the lying cunt in the back of my mind has told me forever.
You’re not good enough, Freya.
You’re not special enough, Freya.
No one will ever love you, Freya.
I stare forward, my eyes swimming with unshed tears as I realise how wrong I was in coming here. I should have stayed in London. Then, at least the dissolution of our relationship could be because of our locations. Now, the truth is out.
Mac doesn’t love me.
And fuck him for betraying everything he tried to make me believe.
My voice is low and calculated when I say, “Well, I’d rather sit around and wait for life to happen than make decisions based on other people’s lives.”
Mac swerves angry, accusing eyes at me. “Are you seriously going to say that to me?”
