CHAPTER464
I stumble against him with the sudden halt, going over my ankle and yelping, grabbing onto him to stop myself going fully down as his arms wrap around me securely to hold me. Arrick pulls me up, straightening me against him and automatically scoops down to slide my shoes off in a swift action, sliding them off quickly, so I stand barefoot on the crisp dry grass, giving my poor ankles relief. He drops them beside us and straightens up to look me in the eye, still with the same accusatory glare and I my temper snaps.
I shove him off as soon as I regain my balance and glare hatefully at him. So many emotions hitting me, rage being at the forefront.
“I didn’t tell you I was with him in that way, not once! Don’t you dare hit me with this shit!” I spit angrily; annoyed that he has the nerve to even yell accusations at me, after everything. That he felt he had a right to drag me here for this, away from my family and friends so he could have some moral high ground of a go at me.
Who the hell does he think he is?
Fuck him!
Has he forgotten what he did to me?
“Then why would Jake think that? Why would you not want to see me again? Tell me straight, Sophie … is there someone, are you seeing anyone? Have you moved on?” Arrick catches my jaw in a firm hold, his angry tone dissipating fast, rambling incoherently as he verbalizes his internal brain mess. His fingers cupping me along the side of my face and pulling me towards him, bridging the gap to my height as he leans into me, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me.
All the hurt and anger and sadness of the past month well up like a dragon inside of me. Enraged and seeing red at how much he pisses me off when he thinks he has a right to touch me in any way he likes. I shove his hands off me, pushing him to arm’s length so I can breathe and only let go when he is standing away from me, his hands dropping to his sides in mild surprise.
“It has nothing to do with you.” I snap, furious at the way he’s making me feel. Hemmed in, heart racing and blood pumping fast. Just his touch alone is causing all sorts of an unwelcome internal meltdown, which is trying to slice through the anger and confusion. I am completely out of my depth and doing what I do best, I lash out and fight back at those who try to wound me.
“It does when I can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop missing you. I just need to know Sophie, if I blew it … if I’m too late?” Arrick is focusing on me, intense gazing into my eyes, but I only see an asshole who thinks he can turn everything around. From angry to whatever this is, sorry, pleading. I don’t want to give a shit about him anymore. His words don’t heal, they only slice deeper and I stare at him in open-mouthed disbelief.
You don’t deserve anything from me!
“Don’t you fucking dare! You don’t have a right to do this to me again … To say this to me!” Tears sting my eyes and I slap his hand away as he reaches out to me impulsively, shoving him away harder so he steps back again with the force. Arrick’s eyes stay on mine, an intense look of desperation on his face and he comes at me again, hands up as though he can’t control the urge to be nearer me. It’s not what I need or want from him anymore; it’s not fair on me or my heart for him to do this to me again.
“Sophie, I just want to talk, to explain.” He starts, his tone ravaged but I cannot hear this, I don’t want to do this. I hate that he’s making me do this. I won’t go backwards and let him fuck with my head and my heart all over again. My insides close to splitting open and bursting all over the lawn, while my lungs feel like they’re being sat on by an elephant and my brain is as close to self-combustion as is humanly possible.
“I’m not a toy you can pick up and drop anytime you feel like it, Arrick. You hurt me. You chose someone else. You don’t get to come back and try again. You don’t get back in.” I grab for my shoes, scooping to bend without caring if my dress flashes my ass to the bushes, anger bubbling in full fury, heart and soul ripping apart while alcohol let’s all this stupid heartache loose to play like giddy kids in a cornfield.
He catches my wrist and hauls me back to him, but I fight back impulsively, shoving him away again and move out of reach this time. Panting with effort as my heart erupts in my chest, and my lungs struggle to function. The pain in my gut has me clinging to my arms in a bid to relieve it and I know I am losing control of the aching wave of tears rising in my throat.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever fucking touch me again.” I yell at him vacuously, the tears breaking loose and pouring down my face in final release, reminiscent of a monsoon, and hating that he has pushed me to this; that I have shown him how deeply he wounded me. That inner part of me trying so hard to fight back, to lift that wall of ice-cold indifference, but damn alcohol has made it near impossible and his presence has ruined me. I was always useless when I was this drunk and him suddenly hitting me with this has pushed me over the edge into no man’s land, where my emotions run free, ungoverned by me and my mind takes a long vacation from the “norm”.
“Please, Sophie, hear me out. Give me a chance to explain, a chance to say what I have wanted to say to you for weeks.” He lifts his hands defensively for a second time, as though trying to convince me he will behave and stop trying to touch me, pleadingly, but keeps his distance as I begin pacing around frantically. Anger spiking inside, fear and heartache pushing and shoving each other to dominate my heart. Like I am going to self-implode with the battle of emotions, thoughts and feelings swirling like a cyclone. I feel like he’s turning me into some crazy Leila version of myself and I have no clue how to stop it. It all comes crashing in on me, the months of forced self-composure and pain.
You don’t get to fucking do this to me again!
“Why? So you can tell me how confused you are? How you don’t want to hurt Natasha? How you love me, but you don’t know how to feel? Go fuck yourself! I moved on … I found a way to deal with things on my own, and the last thing I need is you fucking my head up all over again! Go away.” I turn on my heel, in bare feet, tramping back in the direction we came from on unsteady legs, no longer caring about shoes, just the need to get away from him and this all-consuming thing he does to me. Terrified of how much more he can hurt me if I let him.
“Do you want me to beg? I will, I’ll beg … on my knees, Sophie. If that’s what it takes for you to hear me out. That’s all I want, just a chance to speak to you.” His voice is torn, emotion making him sound different and even though I am stomping away onto rough ground and ripping my feet to shreds on harsh terrain and concrete on the road away from the house, I glance back and almost sob when I catch him on his knees in the middle of the street. Like an instant punch to the gut.
It stops me, as does the fact he has tears in his eyes and looks completely broken for the first time in his entire life. I don’t know what else to do, or say, or how to react. I have never seen him look this way in the whole time I have known him, so desolate and ravaged. This isn’t him; this isn’t the version that I have ever known, and I don’t like it. It riles up some lost broken piece of me that aggressively tries to make him stop.
“Stop it. Get up. Don’t do that.” I yell at him impulsively, hating seeing him like this, not wanting to see my Arry this way; waving my hands in agitation to make him get up. He doesn’t get to be this way, on his knees like some sad, broken shell who has to beg. He was always my rock, my stability, the one who stayed emotionally cool when I needed him too. The one who kept me sane and calm. He isn’t allowed to be useless and upset and looking to me to hold him up. I hate it.
I storm back to him and tug at his jacket childishly, looking around because I don’t want anyone else to see him this way. It’s not who he is. I hate that he has left himself this publicly vulnerable when he is the last person in the world who likes people to see him anything but in control. I tug and cry and yank at him, but he doesn’t budge an inch."
