Battle

My phone vibrates again. I’m scared to look. Battle already stomped on my heart. What more can he do? I pick it up, and my heart swells when I read his text.

B: I WANT THE MIDDLE!

I smile, one that hurts. He wants the middle. He wants to know me, and he wants to let me know him. I quickly reply.

F: You do?

B: I haven’t been able to quit thinking about you since our night together.

I blush profusely and glance around the table. While my dinner company carries on the planning out of my life, I text him back.

F: I think about you also.

B: I can’t make any promises, but I want to spend time with you and see what happens.

His latest text makes me feel like I could float away.

“Faye you’re being very disrespectful,” Daddy barks. “Put the phone down so we can finish this conversation.”

I glance up from my phone, greeted with scowls from five people. I look at my father. Anger surges through me. I can no longer tolerate his incessant need to stick to the plan. The plan where I marry Wyatt sucks, and it’s time I told him.

“There’s nothin’ further to discuss. I don’t want to be with Wyatt. I did, but he made a choice, and now, for once in my life, I’m makin’ one. And I choose to move on. I’m goin’ home, and the next time we meet for dinner, I hope you will not bombard me.” I move to my mother and kiss her on the cheek. I kiss my father on the top of the head. “I love you both, but this is my decision.”

My father takes my hand, looking right at me. “I respect that, honey.”

I’m completely flabbergasted, and I smile. “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Before I leave, I hug Mrs. Daughtrey, and while I don’t have to, I apologize for my outbursts. She gives me a cold smile. It will take her much longer to get over me and Wyatt breaking up. She’s invested, having made big plans, including me wearing her wedding dress. I hug Mr. Daughtrey, who warmly tells me to stay in touch.

Wyatt won’t look at me. I’m too angry with him to care, but I hate that his current behavior is taking away from the fond memories I have of our relationship.

A warm breeze hits me in the face as I step outside. I text Battle with my address, letting him know I’ll be home in ten minutes. I practically skip to my car that’s parked on the side of the restaurant. As I reach my destination, a smile overtakes my face. The weight I’d been carrying has been heavier than I ever realized. Releasing it, and being honest with my parents and myself, feels exhilarating. I want to dance, and if it were possible, I would fly.

“Who were you texting?” Wyatt startles me. He’s alone, which mean he wants to talk. I don’t have anything to say to him. All I want to do is go home, call Battle, and see what the future has planned for me.

“A friend,” I answer casually.

“Which one?”

I feel my cheeks turning bright red. “No one you know.”

“Who is he?”

“What makes you think it’s a he?”

He shakes his head. “I saw everything. The blush on your cheeks and the smile on your lips you tried so hard to hide.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“How long did you wait to fuck him?” he asks with a sinister look, his lip snarled.

“How long did you wait, Wyatt?” I snap. How dare he ask me such a question after the amount of women he’s slept with.

“At least you didn’t deny it. You can’t. I know you too well. You were glowin’ in the restaurant. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”

“You never made me feel beautiful.” The words flow from my mouth before I can take them back. “I’m sorry. That was cruel.”

“No. I deserve that,” he says, his voice low. “Were you ever happy?”