𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 ~ | 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘤

XIX

Chapter Nineteen:

~ Never trust a trust fall ~

"Well, clearly, you haven't been trying very hard." I snapped back, feeling a sting of anger rising within me. "Because if you were, you wouldn't have texted me that night."

He paused.

"Eve, listen to me. Believe me. Please." He reached out and cupped my cheek in his palm, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. "I didn't text you. I don't have your number. I've been sober for a week now."

"Why should I believe that?" I pulled away from his touch, it took all my resolve, but I did. "Give me one reason I should trust you after everything you've done?"

He let out a sigh, his eyes darting away from mine. "I can't," he said finally, his voice soft.

"Exactly..." I slipped my arms around my middle. "I don't trust you, Leclerc. I don't think I ever will."

"Maybe you just don't want to," he countered, his voice a whisper.

"What?" I frowned.

"Maybe you're afraid. Afraid of what it means if you start to trust me," he continued, his words slow and deliberate. "Afraid of where it might lead. What you might lose."

I felt my heart twist in my chest. "You don't know anything about me, Leclerc."

"I know more than you think," His eyes were intense as he stepped closer, "You're scared. You're hurt. You're angry. And you're tired of feeling like you're alone. You want someone to believe in you, to trust you, to see the real you." His voice was soft, almost pleading.

"N-no. Stop." I stammered, trying to push him away. But he didn't budge.

"I know that you have given people your trust before, Evie. And I know that they've broken it. They've hurt you, just like I have. So now you're afraid. You're building walls around your heart, trying to protect yourself from getting hurt again." He paused, his eyes searching mine for some sign of understanding.

"That's not true. I'm not afraid." I said, more harshly than I'd intended.

"We both know that it is true. You're afraid to trust anyone because you're afraid of being hurt again." Charles' voice was gentle, almost kind.

"You don't know anything about me, so stop it." I snapped again, taking another step back.

"I know that all that is true. I know how you feel. I know why you feel it." He kept going.

"...How?"

"Because I'm the same. I'm just like you. I've been hurt, too. I've been betrayed, lied to, used. And it's made me afraid, just like you. But unlike you, I'm trying to change." His words hung in the air between us, heavy with emotion. 

"I'm trying to be better. To be worthy of someone's trust. I know I've made mistakes, Eve. But I want to make things right."

I stood there for a moment, just looking at him. His eyes were intense, searching mine for some sign of belief, of trust.

"No." I blinked. "You can't just say that. You can't just 'make things right'. It doesn't work like that."

He took another step closer, his expression pleading. "I want to try."

"It's too late." I shook my head.

"There is no such thing as 'too late', Evie." His voice was soft. "There is always time to try, to make things better."