Fighter

Twenty-six

Scarlett POV

Tension hangs in the hot air of this late summer night. We've been together every night this past week. We never questioned whether we would spend the night together, the only question was whether it would be in my apartment or her suite. However tonight as I lock the door to the gym after we close for an awkward moment. Clearly her father's visit still affects her. We walk a block in silence until we reach an imaginary fork in the road: My apartment is to the left and her hotel is to the right.

- Can we go to my hotel today? My laptop is there and i need to send some emails tomorrow morning.- Y/N asks.

- Hmm.... of course.

- What's wrong? - She stops and turns to me.

- Nothing. It's just.... I wasn't sure if we were going to stay together tonight.

- And why wouldn't we stay?

I shrug. There is no real answer. It's more like a sensation.

- I don't know.

Y/N's eyes search mine and she's silent for a moment. She takes my face in her hands and focuses only on our connection. There's an unmistakable intensity in her eyes but there's something else. Something that is hidden below the surface. Hurt? Sadness? Concern?

- I'm not like him.

At first that statement seems so out of context that I have no idea what she is talking about. But then i understand. She's worried that I might believe what her father said, that she's just like him.

- I know you're not.- I whisper, my eyes fixed on hers. She closes her eyes and nods. When it reopens the pain and hurt are still there, but some of the tension seems to have dissipated.

==========================

Y/N was quiet all night and in the morning she had to leave for a series of meetings she had scheduled. She says she's fine but I can see that her father's visit is still bothering her, so I leave the gym a little earlier than usual and on the way home I stop by La Perla to buy something that I think will cheer her up. Spending a few hundred dollars on sexy lingerie isn't something I do naturally but I'm dying to see her face when I describe over dinner what I'm wearing under my clothes.

I'm about to get in the shower when my cell phone starts to vibrate. The name on the screen surprises me and I almost hit REJECT. But in a moment of weakness I answer Colin's call.

I regret picking up when my trembling finger hangs up. My eyes are burning and i fight back tears. I throw my cell phone hard on the table. The screen shatters but that's the least of my problems. I stand in my room looking out the window for a long time. The stormy gray sky opens with the rumble of thunder warning that a heavy rain is coming.

I shouldn't have answered the phone. I don't even know why I did it. Maybe because a part of me feels guilty for hurting him; he wasn't always an asshole. All I could do was breathe after my father died until Colin came into the story to take care of me.

I know what he did to me was wrong. A good man or woman never lays hands on a partner... no matter what. That was one of the many life lessons my father taught me growing up surrounded by men who use their hands to survive. There's no excuse for what he's done but somehow a twinge of guilt keeps me connected to him. Guilt for not loving him the way he loved me. So I answered the call even though I knew nothing good would come of it. And I was not wrong. The only thing I could hope for was that he'd vomited lies, but there's something gnawing in the pit of my stomach that won't go away, no matter how much I try to tell myself that none of what he said is true.