Layers(89)

How can he be so harsh? Instead of letting me in he steps forward to lean against the door, drawing a stronger line between us.

“How are you?” I begin, hesitant.

“To the point,” he snaps.

I search for his eyes but he doesn’t look directly at me, deliberately avoiding contact, adding pain to my already sick heart.

“Can I have a chance to explain my side?” I start.

“Why?” he asks, annoyed. It seems like he’s trying to mask his own anxiety. You aren’t indifferent to me, Daniel. I can see you do still care.

“Isn’t there a statute of limitation on not hearing me out?” He twists his mouth and his stare tapers.

“Daniel, I did say all those things but not to the media, not to a reporter. I said them to my best friend and not as gossip, it was purely out of the deep feelings I have for you.” I blink, shifting slightly to regain stability as my legs start to betray me. He folds his arms on his chest, shutting me further out.

“I am not sure how it got to wherever it got, but my words were viciously taken out of context.”

He glances at me with an empty stare, his face revealing nothing.

“I am the same person I was a few days ago. Everything I said and did was real. How can you not see that?” There is a lump expanding wildly in my throat.

“Are you done?” His stare is glacial. “Is there anything else?” he asks quietly, too calm and low.

Did he not hear anything I just said? There’s a deep ache in my stomach, and it intensifies with every passing moment.

“I also brought you back your car and your house keys.” For a moment he seems distracted, as though he forgot all about the keys and what they represented. Yes, these same keys to your house that you gave me just a few days ago. How could he go from asking me to move in to being entirely cold toward me?

I take the keys out of my pocket and hand them to him. As he extends his hand I can see that it’s just as shaky as mine. Why are you being so you? Why are you doing this, D?

“I guess this is goodbye?” I ask, feeling timid at the distance he projects.

“What do you want me to say?” he says, his jaw tightly clenched. He lowers his eyes to the floor.

This cannot be the person I fell in love with. This cannot be the same one. I shouldn’t be as surprised by his behavior as I am. I’ve seen it too many times before. But he’s never been this way with me, not even close. I can’t prolong this any further; I start walking as hastily as my trembling body allows me toward the gate. He doesn’t make a move to stop me; he just stands there. That look is in his eyes again, a look that ravages my soul.

As the gate closes behind me, it hits me: he’s not mine anymore and will never be again. The one thing I dreaded by coming here has become a fact, leaving me without him.

Was I just a witness to Iris’ premonition? Is this what she meant then? “Don’t give up on him even when you feel you should.” But I cannot. I just can’t. Not with him going out of his way to drive me away, to hurt me.

Dismayed at my own control of an unavoidable crying outburst, I suddenly realize there is something else burning within me other than the urge to cry. I feel a throbbing rage. I am furious to the core, mad at how he just treated me, mad that he not even once really stopped to listen, mad that he didn’t consider me innocent before declaring me guilty, mad he didn’t give me a chance, give us a chance. And just as I couldn’t wait to get there to see him, I can’t wait to get away.

It takes the taxi some time to arrive, giving me a while to reach the simple conclusion that I am as mad at him as I am in love with him.

Looking out the window and not really seeing the passing view I think about the fact that I left my scooter at his place, but the last thing I want to do is go back, not now, not anytime soon.





Chapter 37: Prince Harming


I don’t even manage to take my shoes off before I am fronted by two inquisitive faces. Immediately I start telling Tasha and Ian, who listen attentively, about the upsetting visit with what seems now to be my ex.

“I am so mad at him. But it doesn’t matter anyway, it’s over.” I conclude.

“I wouldn’t go and secure the gravestone on this love story just yet,” Ian says.

Both Tasha and I stare at Ian with our brows knit, exchanging uncertain looks between us like we have many times before, trying to understand what he means.

“Weren’t you present at the last fifteen minutes of the tale of ‘Prince Harming’?”

I snicker bitterly at Tasha’s most suitable nickname for Daniel.

“I most certainly was. I never miss anything that goes out of that gorgeous mouth,” Ian says defensively.

I send him a small, gratified smile, which is mirrored with an affectionate one.

“So, by all means enlighten me, Ian,” I plead. Now I’m talking like Daniel? Urgh.

“You are so each other’s termites,” he casually states.

“I’m a termite now? And here I thought I was just plain, bitter single again,” I comment matter-of-factly. “Look who’s here,” Tasha declares, her voice a few octaves higher. “Miss Grace is back with us and she brought her cynicism with her.”




Amused, I roll my eyes. “You were saying, Darwin? Termites?”