Beloved (Toni Morrison Trilogy #1)(75)

“What?” He steps back with a shocked expression.

“Leave, please,” I croak out and point to the door.

He looks at me cautiously, like I’m a wounded animal. Tilting his head, brow furrowed, he responds, “Why would I leave? I’m not going anywhere. I told you I was staying.” He stands defiantly, ready to fight me on this.

“I don’t want you to stay here. I need to be alone,” I say with as much steel in my voice as I can gather. There’s a small part of me that knows pushing him away could be a mistake, but at this point I can’t trust myself. He’s already taken so much—I’m already in too deep. The last time we made love, he owned me. I knew then I’d never be the same. He’s going to destroy me if I don’t put an end to this now.

Jackson takes a step closer, shaking his head at my request. “I’m not leaving you.”

There’s no way he’s going to walk away on his own—it’s not who he is. This is the man who’d stand in front of a bullet and bear the pain so someone else wouldn’t have to. But I don’t need a hero. “I’m not asking you, Jackson. I’m telling you to leave. I want to be alone. I can’t deal with anything else right now.”

He strides toward me with his lips pursed. “Don’t push me away. Don’t make me the bad guy here.” He reaches for me, but I take a step back.

I throw my hands up. “Really? Push you away? You pushed me away back there before the fight. I didn’t do that—you did. I needed you! Do you have any idea what this was like for me today? Huh?” I step forward and push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he stands there and lets me unleash my fury. “Did you think about how this would be for me when you beat the shit out of him? Did you hear me screaming and begging you to stop? My God! Do you get it now? I was engaged to him. He was supposed to love me and cherish me! But instead he pushed me away, cheated on me. He left me for someone else because she was better than me!” I slap my hand against his chest, broken and hurt, but he doesn’t move. He takes it. “I need to be more than that, Jackson. I need to be someone’s everything. I deserve that! I’m tired … I’m tired of being hurt. I want to be enough already!” I take a few steps back, needing some space.

Jackson takes another step, but I put my hands up to stop him. No. He can’t touch me. He’s already shown me what all the important men in my life have told me—I’m not enough. Not good enough to open up to. Not enough to share himself with. Will I ever be enough? “Don’t touch me.” Jackson’s face contorts as if I’ve slapped him.

“Really, Catherine?” He shifts forward and clenches his jaw.

I take a shaky breath before continuing, “In the last two hours, I’ve had to face every f*cking man in my life who’s ever meant anything to me—my father, Neil, and now you. I can’t do this. Please, just go!” I shake my head over and over, trying to grab on to the anger instead of the crushing pain of pushing him away.

“You think this has been easy for me? I’ve never made you feel irrelevant. I haven’t cheated on you, or hurt you. No, I’ve been there for you, giving you everything I could. I held you when you cried and listened to you. I didn’t make you feel cheap or worthless.” His hands are shaking as he pauses to take a deep breath. “I’ve tried to be the man you say you deserve. Tell me what I did to make you think otherwise! So I pulled away on the train—we got past that. Did I get pissed off and beat the shit out of your f*cking * ex? Yes! And if he f*cking touched you again, I would’ve killed him. Is this about him? Do you still love him?”

I gasp and press my fingers to my lips, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief. How could he think that? “This has nothing to do with him. But it has everything to do with me.”

“So you’re going to take this out on me? I deserve this?”

We stand there in the middle of my living room, staring at each other, trying to get the resolution we’re each fighting for. I look away and glance at his shirt. The blood there reminds me of everything that’s happened.

“I just need time.” The faint whisper of a voice I manage to get out sounds so broken—even to me.

His head tilts back as he grips his hair. “Fucking time? Time to what? Push me away and convince yourself that I’m like him. Are you sure you want me to leave? You’re ready for me to walk away?”

“I need some damn time. I can’t think with you around!” I turn away from him.

“You want me to walk out so you can hate me and blame me for leaving you. Well I won’t let you play some f*cking bullshit game with me.”

I let out a breathy laugh and roll my eyes. “A game? You think this is a game for me? What do I win, huh?”

“You tell me. You’re the one telling me to leave. I can’t f*cking believe this.” He throws his hands up and then claps them against his legs. “If I walk out this door, I won’t come back until I know you want me here.”

“I’m used to watching men walk out the door.” I say bitterly.

“Maybe you should stop pushing them out, then.”

My heart stops as his words rip my chest apart. The pain is dragging me under, but he’s standing there, watching the tears fall, watching how deep his words cut. “You don’t know a f*cking thing.”