The Revenge Games Duet
“Um?
?? I guess it’s fine. I mean, yes. Don’t waste money staying somewhere. I need to get some fresh air. Are we done?” I don’t even wait for a response—throwing some cash onto the table which Wesley hands back to me as his Amex card makes an appearance—exiting the restaurant, desperate to breathe and release my tight chest. I begin walking, my name’s being called, but everything is a blur while I walk as if on auto-pilot.
“Milly.” A tight grip holds me back. Liam is forcefully holding on, determined to get an answer. “Who is he?”
“What?” I answer, distracted by a homeless man lying on the pavement.
“Wesley,” he says in a harsh tone, gritting his teeth. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” I defend myself, trying to explain without hurting him. “Liam, it’s not like that.”
“Fuck, Milly!” he yells, letting me go, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, and with anger fueled by jealousy, he paces back and forth with a heavy stomp. “I’m not fucking stupid. You barely call me anymore, and when we talk, you’re distant. You’ve changed.”
“Of course, I’m distant. It’s difficult for me to be here.”
“You’ve been here barely a month! It isn’t difficult. You’re managing to make friends, even male ones. Just tell me, are we over?”
“Liam, we agreed when I came out here that our relationship would just see where it took us. No commitments.”
“So, that’s how you justify fucking him?”
Liam accusing me of sleeping with Wesley awakens a beast inside of me. I haven’t betrayed him, at least, our time apart was agreed upon. He has no clue how lonely I am and no compassion when it comes to me being away from Mama. His answer is to get married, pay for what I need, and keep me holed up in his parents’ basement.
I don’t want that life.
And I don’t want to continue holding onto something that doesn’t feel right.
I love him, but it isn’t enough.
“I’m not fucking him,” I yell back, lowering my voice when a woman turns around. “Stop doing this. Stop putting pressure on me. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone, to be responsible for my brother who spends his time out doing God knows what, to have family and friends back home and be so alone. I miss it so much it hurts. So, just stop—”
“I’m going.”
“Liam, please, I’m sorry.” My remorse kicks in—delayed—yet gut-wrenching at the same time. “Where are you going?”
“I shouldn’t have come. Tell Flynn I said goodbye. Good luck, Milly.” Liam glances at me one more time, the skin around his eyes bunching up in a pained stare. “You want a bad boy? You’ve found your contender. Just don’t think I’ll be waiting and ready to save you. Been there, done that.” He finally walks away, leaving me alone on the street.
I’m at a loss of what to do, begging the universe for some sort of sign.
Do I run after him, tell him I’m sorry and try to mend what I’ve so foolishly broken?
Or has the universe played its part—aligning the stars so Wesley and Liam would be at the same place, same time, forcing me to choose a hand?
Maybe Mrs. Ling is right.
I let him go, though it pains me. Forcing the bittersweet memories to fade away, if only for just this moment, and continue my journey, my purpose here, with one less person in my wings.
Flynn and Wesley are nowhere to be seen, so I head back to the apartment, flinging myself onto my bed. It starts with one silent tear falling down my cheek as the salty liquid settles on my lips. But one tear becomes a stream, a constant flow of sadness for letting go of a man who did nothing wrong.
He’s your textbook prince charming.
But this just isn’t the right time.
I fall asleep from the exhaustion, waking up in the dark to the sound of a car backfiring. It startles me, my heart pounding from the loud noise. I’m awake, at some god-awful hour, wishing the morning would come until the sound of heavy breathing distracts me.
My eyes open slowly—strained. Wesley is sitting on the armchair near the window. I pull myself up, rubbing my tired eyes. The same time it all comes back to me—the restaurant, Wesley and Liam’s arguing, the breakup afterward.
“What are you doing here?” I croak.