And you think you know someone.
“Nathan?”
“Go back inside, Eliza.” I growl. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“What? Why?”
“Do you even fucking know me at all?” I cry.
She runs beside me. “I met someone you know at the conference.”
I keep walking toward my car.
“His name was Zavier, and you know Zavier, don’t you?”
I stay silent, my fury beyond boiling point.
“Zavier said—” She stammers in a rush.
“I know what he said!” I cry, cutting her off. “And the fact that you don’t know the answer to it proves my fucking point.”
“Will you slow down? I’m going to break my neck in these heels.”
“I mean it. I don’t want to be near you; go back inside.”
“Nathan.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back to a stop. “I’m sorry I spoke to my friends about it, okay? It upset me and I needed to vent.”
I stare at her, lost for words, this hurts. “I asked you at least twenty times last night what was wrong, and you wouldn’t tell me. Then I turn up here to be abused by your friend. How do you think that makes me feel, Eliza?”
“I needed to talk to someone.”
“So, talk to me!” I yell. “Why are we together if you can’t even talk to me?”
Her eyes search mine.
“You think I need an agenda to love you?” I cry out.
“I’m just scared, Nathan.”
“Of what, Eliza? Of being like the rest of them? Of judging me because of who I’ve slept with?” I step back from her, disgusted. “Well, guess what… you should be scared because you are just like them.”
Her eyes well with tears. “That’s not fair.”
“I’ll tell you what’s not fair. It’s spending ten years of your life with someone, falling hopelessly in love with them, only to have them tell their friends that they think you’re using them to have a child.” I get a lump in my throat as I stare at her, my heart constricts.
This hurts.
I can’t be near her. I turn and get into my car, slamming the door hard.
“Nathan!” she cries.
I start the car, and she throws her arms up.
“What are you doing?” She bangs on my window.
I pull out into the traffic. “Getting away from you,” I mutter to myself.
Eliza