“I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT TODAY,” I bellow in my mother’s face, repeating my inner monologue for their benefit.
My mother flinches back, wearing a wounded expression on her face. My father moves to her side, his disapproval obvious. This is how it always goes with them. I try to be strong, but they act like their misfortune is somehow my fault. Like they’re just trying to love me and I’m the one that’s hurtful. Like I’m the one in the wrong. Like Mom has medical issues and Dad has had yet another employer that didn’t understand him. Then they make me feel so guilty for accusing them of manipulation. They deflect when I ask about stealing my money, my mail, my identity, and say that it was all necessary because Mom needed money for some sort of treatment that never has receipts or an office that exists, and it’s just never-ending and I am tired of it.
So damned tired of it. I’m tired of them making me the bad guy and gaslighting me when I try to stay strong. I’m tired of them stealing from me and acting like I’m the unreasonable one. I’m tired of them stalking me.
I am done.
I shake off my mother’s hands, determined not to feel more guilt. “I am not doing this today,” I tell them in a loud, warning voice. “I am not. I am going up to visit my friend, and you are not going to follow me. You are not going to steal his mail. You are not going to open more credit cards in my name. And you are not going to keep showing up on my doorstep, hoping for handouts.” I raise my voice. “I have never sought a restraining order or sent your information over to the police, but so help me, if you don’t leave me alone this instant, I will have your asses thrown in jail before the week is out. Do you understand?”
I might be yelling. I don’t even know anymore. All I know is that I need them to understand that I have just destroyed the heart of the love of my life and I am not in the mood for their bullshit.
“But—” my mother begins.
“Restraining,” I snarl. “Order!” And before they can say anything else, I storm inside the building. I stomp to the elevator, half daring them to follow behind me, and I’m a little surprised when they don’t. Full of righteous indignation, I glare at the elevator walls as it takes me up to the third floor, where Nick’s apartment is. I draw myself up, clutching my overnight bag in one hand and my useless phone in the other, just in case Ben texts me, and march to Nick’s door. I knock hard. Twice, just in case he didn’t hear it the first time.
Nick comes to the door and opens it a crack, a confused expression on his face. “Reggie? What—”
All my bluster disappears and I burst into tears again. “I’ve ruined everything, Nick. You have to help me.”
He looks wary. “Ruined how?” Nick’s gaze moves up and down my party dress and sneakers, my tangled hair and the makeup that’s probably under my eyes instead of on my eyelids at this point. “You look like shit.”
“I . . . ruined . . . everything,” I sob again. “Everything! Ben hates me!”
Nick glances behind him, where no doubt Diego is waiting for him to come back into the apartment. “You should probably come in—”
“We tried to find out who was casting spells on Dru,” I babble, tears gushing from my eyes. “And we went and found a warlock to help us figure it out, and we went to a party and everyone was so mean to him there, Nick. It was awful. I wanted to show him just how amazing he is, and I might have yelled at some of his friends, and then Abernathy said it was him and I know it’s not Ben, but I was tired and confused and I thought I was being used again, because my parents make me distrust everyone, you know? And so I freaked out and ran away without talking to him, and now he won’t return my phone calls, and how can I tell him that I love him and I believe him if he hates my guts?” My wail echoes in the hall. “He doesn’t know I love him, Nick! That was my stupid secret for stupid Abernathy, and I didn’t even get a chance to tell him! I was too afraid, and now he thinks I hate him.”
Nick listens to me blurt out my misery, a weird look on his face.
“And I don’t,” I continue, sniffling. “I love him. So much. And that scares me and I don’t know what to do. And you . . .” I wipe at my nose, which is running with snot at this point, since I’m not a pretty crier. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Nick continues his silence. He simply opens the door to the apartment wider, and instead of Diego, I see Ben Magnus on the other side of the door.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe, clutching my phone to my chest. “Ben—”
“It’s okay,” he says, and they’re the two most beautiful words in the world.
“It’s not okay.” My face crumples and I start to cry all over again. “I didn’t trust you, and I should be the one person that always trusts you and—”
“Hey, hey,” Ben says softly, pushing past Nick to gather me in his arms. “Reggie. It’s all right.”
I sob against his chest, curling my hands against his soft, soft sweater over his big, broad chest. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” I tell him. “My parents—”
“Are outside,” he agrees, stroking my hair.
“And I thought for a moment you were like them, because I always think no one can really love me. That they’re just using me and I’m too stupid to figure it out.”
“You’re not stupid—”
“I yelled at them,” I tell him, sniffing. “I threatened to get a restraining order.”
“You did?” Ben sounds delighted. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart—”
“And I wanted to come to you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want me there—”
“I’d always want you there—”
“Your phone—”
“Broke it,” he says quickly. “That’s why I’m here. I wasn’t sure where you’d go, and I was worried sick about you—”
“I love you,” I say again, frantic he didn’t hear me the first time. We keep talking over each other, desperate to get it all out. I pull back, still clutching a handful of his sweater, searching his face to see if I’m forgiven for hurting him. “I love you. That was my secret for Minerva—at first it was about Maurice, but my real secret was that I love you, and I didn’t tell you—”
He silences me with a kiss. I choke back a sob of pure happiness, clinging to his mouth. This has been the worst day of my life, but it’s getting better by the moment.
“I am really, really confused,” Nick says somewhere behind us as we kiss. Ben strokes my face, his eyes full of emotion as he wipes away my tears.
I swipe at my nose, because I know I’m a mess, but god, the way Ben looks at me, I know it doesn’t matter. He stares at me as if he wants to devour me, his gaze intense, and it’s like there’s no one in the world but the two of us.
“I love you,” I say again, just because I know I hurt him and I’m desperate to make it better. “Once I realized I’d made such a mistake—”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay. You panicked.”
“It’s not okay, but I hope you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you.”
Ben’s eyes gleam. “Did you have something in particular in mind?”
“A lot of things,” I confess. “Most of them filthy—”
“Ew?” Nick breaks in. “Can you two save that for the bedroom instead of my hall?”
Ben grins down at me, still cupping my face, as if we’re sharing a secret. “Later?” he whispers.
“Later,” I agree, and glance over his shoulder to give my friend a sheepish look. “Sorry. Was I interrupting?”
Nick gives us both an incredulous look. “I’m still trying to figure out all this babble about spells. What the hell are you two going on about?”
I exchange a look with Ben, biting my lip. I haven’t really updated Nick on the whole witchcraft-is-real situation. “Oops.”
Ben just laughs, and the sound fills me with sunshine and joy. Leaning over me, he whispers again. “We’ll worry about that later, too.”
“How’s Dru?” I ask.
“The same.” He shakes his head. “There’s no change. Lisa’s still with her.”