I pull away the ice pack and press my fingers lightly to my jaw where Max hit me. It throbs painfully, but anger overshadows all of the pain.
"Aww, poor baby." says Rachelle, pouting.
"Mm." I grunt. Somehow, word got out about the fight, and Rachelle showed up less than five minutes after I got home. I really don't want her here right now, but there's really no getting rid of her now that she's here.
That's life.
"Where does it hurt?" she asks, prodding my jaw with her fingers. This girl does not know the meaning of the word 'gentle.'
"Ow! Shit, Woman!" I exclaim, flinching away. "It probably hurts where the damn BRUISE is! Ever think about that?"
Her pout becomes more pronounced.
"It's okay, Jackypoo. I understand that--"
"No, you don't." I say. "You have no idea."
She brushes my cheek with her hand. "I can help you. I know I can."
"And how do you expect to do that?" I ask. "Unless you have the power to being the dead back from the grave, you can't help me."
"I know I can." she says softly. "I love you."
I stand up and cross the room, resting my forehead against the wall.
"No, you don't." I say. "None of this is love, don't you get it?" She looks hurt but I face her and keep going.
"You may think you love me, but you don't." I say.
"I think I would know if I--"
"No!" I shout, making her jump. "You wouldn't because you're so damn delusional that you can't even see what this is!"
She stares at me, a shocked expression on her face. "Then what is this?" she asks quietly.
"I..." I struggle to find words. "I don't know! But it's not..we're not...it can't be love!"
"Why not?" she asks, tears brimming her eyes.
"Because I don't love you!" I yell, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "I don't love you. Quite frankly, I hate you, but somehow that's enough to make me stay. Some kind of twisted appeal that draws me to you is making me stay. That's it!"
I start pacing back and forth across the room, not looking at her. What I said was harsh, but it's no less than the truth. She has to accept that.
"Maybe I should just leave." she says, grabbing her bag of of the couch and wiping her face. I nod, automatically feeling horrible at what I just said to her.
"You should." I say, grabbing my ice pack from where I apparently threw it across the room and setting it on the table. Rachelle storms toward the door, intentionally bumping my shoulder on the way out.
I grab her arm and pull her back, wrapping her tightly in my arms. She struggles to get out of my grip, but I don't let go. Eventually she gives up, wrapping her arms around my waist and sobbing into my chest. I sigh and press my lips to the top of her head.
"I'm sorry." I say. "I really shouldn't have said all those things. I'm sorry."
She sniffs but doesn't respond. I pull away and give her a small kiss in the lips. "You can go." I say, pulling away. She sniffs and shakes her head, pulling me back towards her.
"I don't wanna go." she says. I sigh again.
"Of course you don't." I mutter. "Alright, you can go hang out in my room. I'll be there in a minute."
She nods and makes her way to my room, which, I'm sad to say, she knows all to well. I wait till I hear the door close and lean back against the wall, banging my head against it.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit....." this goes on for a minute or two until my head and jaw start throbbing. Then I sigh and walk slowly down the hallway to my room.
Note to self: Invest in anger management.
