I sat up as I heard a noise coming from Mila’s room. We shared a wall, and that meant that I could hear what was happening in her room if I paid close attention. She seemed to be pacing, and I wondered if she was obsessing about this morning like I was.
“Fuck it,” I said, standing up and walking over to Mila’s door. I knocked hard and waited for her to reply.
First, there was silence, and I knew she knew who was at the door. “Mila,” I said, taking care that I didn’t speak too loudly so that the boys downstairs didn’t hear. “Open the door.”
“No,” she replied immediately, and her voice was slightly muffled. “Go away.”
“No,” I shot back. “We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You know about what,” I said.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” she said. “Please… just leave me alone.”
“I’ll give you up to the count of five, and then I’m breaking this door down.”
“You wouldn’t?” she asked, but I could tell she was uncertain.
“Watch me,” I said confidently. “One… two… three… four—”
Just before I went with ‘five’ the door opened, and Mila stared at me with flashing eyes that were in equal parts angry and conflicted.
“What the hell do you want?” she demanded.
I walked into her room, backing Mila further into it. Then I turned around and locked her door. “Alright,” I said, turning to her. “Now what the hell went wrong today?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I repeated, in disbelief. “You freaked out on me and ran!”
“Because I realized it was a mistake,” Mila shot back. “It was a mistake to get involved with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said, raising her voice. “You’re a brute… an egotistical brute who is prone to violence. I don’t want to get involved with someone like that.”
I found myself getting on the defensive, despite my resolve to stay calm. “Get involved?” I repeated, in a quiet voice. “Whoever said anything about getting involved? All I ever wanted from you was a good fuck.”
She winced at my words, and I felt a stabbing pain in my chest that I couldn’t immediately identify. All I knew was that I didn’t like seeing her react that way. Mila fell silent for a moment, and her blue eyes seemed to get softer and sadder. I had been trying to hurt her and apparently, I had managed to do just that. I realized suddenly what that uncomfortable stabbing feeling in my chest was. It was regret… regret that I’d hurt her that way.
“Mila,” I said softly, taking a step towards her.
She backed away from me and flinched. I froze and stared at her for a moment. “Are you scared of me?” I asked.
I saw her tense a little, but she didn’t answer me. Was it possible that she was really scared of me? I was trying to protect her… I was trying to make sure she could protect herself. Surely, she knew that I would never hurt her? Sure, I was rough with her. I was vulgar and rude and sometimes dismissive, but that was how I was with everybody. I figured she just knew that about me. But what if she was taking everything personally?
“Mila—”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said, as her eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Ok?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Ok,” I nodded.
“I just… my whole life has been a series of bad choices and shitty luck,” Mila said. “And when it comes to men… I don’t ever make the right decisions. I choose assholes that don’t treat me right. I choose men who don’t actually give a shit about me.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that that wasn’t true in my case. I did give a shit about her. But the words froze on my tongue, and I realized I had never been that honest with anyone in my life. I wasn’t used to tender words or sentimental displays of affection. I was exactly the brute that Mila said I was. I shut my mouth and waited for her to finish her thought.