I Hate You But I Love You More

Chapter 6

My eyes peer open and I immediately shrink back from the light. Why is this bed so hard and cold? I cautiously open my eyes and the first thing I see is a counter. Huh? Is this some kind of prank? Wait, why the hell am I in the kitchen? I rise to my feet, my head pounding. Jeez, did I knock myself out last night?

My trek up the stairs is no easy one. After sleeping on the cold tile, my back is practically screaming for help. As I pass Darson's bedroom, I glower at the door. After taking a shower and tidying myself, I find myself in the kitchen. I decide to make pancakes for breakfast. It is after I finish loading the pancakes onto a plate that I see Darson approaching me.

"Why did I wake up on the kitchen floor this morning?" I question him with a hand folded over my chest. No response. He goes over to the coffee maker. "Did you drag me down here?"

"Some of us sit here all day without anything to do and some of us actually have work. Don't flatter yourself into thinking I actually have time to drag you down a flight of stairs in the middle of the night." I open my mouth to demand he answer me but some of it comes back to me.

"Romeo." I reach out for Darson but slide right off the counter and onto the kitchen floor.

"Whatever I said last night was a drunken me. Don't take it to heart."

"A drunk heart is a sober mind. You probably actually think I am your Romeo." Darson shrugs before bringing the cup of coffee to his lips.

"I'm pretty sure that saying is the other way around besides you're more like a Paris than a Romeo." I say while I place three pancakes on a plate.

"A who?" Darson asks, confuse and I wave him off with a never mind.

He pulls the plate of pancakes near him and I watch as he pours syrup onto it. That is supposed to be mine. Wait, hold up. "Since when do you eat breakfast?"

"Since you tell on me to your mother." My mouth opens as I am completely appalled. My mother did not call him, did she? Oh my gosh, I feel so embarrassed.

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself. I couldn't care less if you starve." I angrily pull a plate of pancake toward me.

"Your mother is much more decent than you are. We get along just fine." He nods to himself as if thinking.

"Then you should have married her instead of being such an inconvenience in my life." I tell him. I almost feel bad after saying this but I'm glad I didn't after hearing what he has to say next.

"And that's the only good thing about our marriage." He places his knife and folk down. When did he even get ahold of that knife? "I get to see you unhappy every day of your life, dreaming, wishing that you had never agree to this. I've never been fawned of marriage so this barely emotionally bothers me but I'm sure you have. It's truly a pity to be this miserable for the rest of your life." Darson pushes back his chair and grabs his bag from the chair beside him. "This is why I never eat home. You call this food?" He snorts before walking away. The front door closes and I find myself finally being able to breathe.

I place a hand over my chest as my breathing becomes heavier. Water surfaces my eyes and I fight to keep it down. The anger consuming me is enough to keep the tears back from flowing. So this is why he agreed to this. He wants to make my life a living hell. Well I have news for you, Darson. I will never let that happen. I'll never let you get that satisfaction.

I'm here for my dad and family debts. Nothing more.

After calming down, I look over at the pancake that is cut into cubes. He only took one bite. He barely ate anything. Ungrateful.

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I've spent over an hour looking around New York City. I've mostly been looking for a job. Preferably a magazine company. The ones I visited so far have no vacancy at the moment. One of the three has a vacancy but it's the position of a janitor. I can't say it's my dream.