“You’re right, it’s not, but I’m not leavin’ you out there to die.”
“I’m not staying here.”
“When are you going to stop?” he barks, finally giving me more than he has in the last five minutes.
“Stop what?” I growl.
He glares at me, his blue eyes are raging. “Stop running from every bad thing in your life. Just face it. Face me. Fuckin’ face me, Willow.”
“I did face you,” I say, my voice shaky. “Tonight I faced a man I didn’t like, a man who blamed me for emotions he couldn’t handle, a man I thought I loved but is starting to show me that love is a fucking joke.”
I turn and walk out of the room, heading back toward my apartment. I go out the back, so I don’t have to face anybody, and when I reach my room, I slam the door close, panting as I press my back to the flimsy timber. I need a shower. I need this night to be done. I step into the bathroom and slowly remove my clothes. So many things hurt right now, so many conflicting emotions.
I wash my body and take the razor, shaving my legs. As I’m moving the silver up and down, I stare at it, and that all too familiar feeling crushes my chest. So many things go through my mind. I hate that I feel the need to turn toward pain when things get rough. I hate that my mind leads me down the road of thinking I’m not good enough. I hate that I feel so weak sometimes.
I can be better than this, I know that. I can make myself better, if I really want to. I don’t have to be this way. I don’t have to crumble. The urge to ignore the right thing is strong, and a big part of me just wants to take the pain away. I wish people could understand the heartbreaking urge I feel when I’m hurting to hurt myself more. I don’t want to be this way. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to think like this.
“Put that down.”
My head snaps up, and I see Jagger standing at the shower door. I didn’t even hear him open it. Hell, I didn’t even realize that I got so wrapped up in my own head that I’m now gripping the razor with a clenched fist. I wasn’t going to hurt myself.
“Let it go,” he says again, stepping forward.
I open my mouth to answer, but the only sound that comes out is a pained sob.
A sob I didn’t even feel coming.
A sob I can’t contain.
“Willow ...”
He steps forward, but I don’t move. He reaches into the shower and grips my wrist gently and then shakes my hand. The razor drops to the floor. I look up to meet his eyes, and I can see the agony in them.
“I wasn’t going to hurt myself,” I say, between sobs.
“I fucked up out there.”
He’s soaked now and still fully clothed. I feel my shoulders slump, and there are so many things I want to say to make this okay. I want him, more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but I don’t know how we can be a healthy couple. I don’t think we have it in us to make it in the long run. Things are too broken.
“I love you, Jagger, I truly do.”
He strokes my cheek. “I know you do.”
I lower my head, pressing it against his chest.
“But I can’t do this anymore.”
He scoops me up into his arms without saying another word. He turns the shower off and wraps a towel around me then carries me to my bedroom. When we get in, he places me on the bed and dries me with the towel, neither of us speaking. The tension is thick, so thick it hurts. My heart is pounding against my rib cage, because he didn’t say anything, and I fear that’s because he is on the same page.
The thought of losing him kills me, but I don’t know how much more I have left.
He doesn’t say another word to me as he dresses me, silently working, his hand still not fixed. When he’s done, he looks down at me, and there is something missing from his eyes, a feeling that was there before and has now gone. He does feel the way I do, I can see it written all over his face, I should have never come back and thought we could make this work.
“You’re going to leave,” I say softly.
“I need to get my hand fixed,” he murmurs.
“Jagger ...”
He turns and walks to the door, still soaking wet.
“Jagger,” I try again.
He turns back to me. “I don’t know that I can do it anymore, either, yet the thought of losing you nearly kills me. You’re right, this is toxic, we’re toxic, but you’re the only thing I want. Tell me, what am I supposed to do with that?”