I Hate You, I Love You | Challengers

Thirty | Why can't I just have them both?

LATER THAT NIGHT  –
3am in the morning

Patrick was walking to Sabrinas hotel room after had just been with Tashi... As he walked stood outside the laughter and music echoed.

 Sarbina and Gabriella swayed drunkenly, their bodies moving in perfect harm, He opened the door and stepped inside. A wide smile adorned his face, not because of the scene before him, but because of what he had just accomplished. 

Sabrina turned around, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She stumbled towards him; her laughter infectious. Gabriella joined her, pulling Patrick into their dance. He obliged, his gaze met Sabrina's, his heart skipped a beat. 

The sight of her radiant smile sent a surge of both joy and guilt through him. Just then... He noticed an envelope lying on the kitchen counter. He picked it up 'What's this?' he asked

'The truth,' she replied, her voice thick with emotion. Patrick unsealed the envelope and scanned the contents. Emblazoned in bold print was his name, Patrick Zweig, followed by the words 'Father to Gracie.'

A wave of joy washed over Patrick as he processed the revelation. He had been hoping for this moment, but a nagging sense of guilt lingered in his heart. He had slept with Tashi under the false assumption that he wasn't Gracie's father, a part of him did, for revenge but now, with confirmation in his hands, he realized the full extent of his mistake. He couldn't stop himself from spinning Sabrina around, her laughter filling the room. He gripped her tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. But as quickly as he had pulled her close, he released her, his expression now clouded with guilt.

'Patrick,' Sabrina whispered, her voice laced with concern.

He turned to face her; his eyes filled with remorse. 'Thanks,' he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

'Thanks?' Sabrina repeated, her confusion evident.

'You fucked Art that same night and had me think my daughter wasn't my daughter' Patrick accused, his voice laced with anger, he looked at Gabriella pleading look in his eyes
Gabriella sensing the tension between them. 'Not my business,' she said, taking a sip of wine.

Sabrina turned to leave, but Patrick grabbed her hand. 'Did you think I'd never find out, Sabrina?' he asked, his voice tinged with longing.

'I wasn't hiding it. It wasn't important,' Sabrina replied, her voice calm.

'Sleeping with Art, and potentially being Gracie's father, wasn't important?' Patrick questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sabrina remained silent, her eyes meeting Patrick's. 'That's all I needed to know,' Patrick said, his voice filled with sadness. 'I now know how you feel about me.'

'How I feel about you?' Sabrina asked, her face etched with confusion.

'You've never been able to say you love me, because you don't love me. It's been Art this whole time,' Patrick said, his voice laced with bitterness. 'I've always just been fuck.'

The air crackled with unspoken tension, thick as the smoke from their cigarettes. Sabrina's voice was low, a quiet tremor in the dimly lit bar. 'No,' she said, 'did you want it to be?'

Patrick, his eyes fixed on her, searched for something, anything, in the depths of her amber gaze. 'Did you want her to be Art's?' he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Sabrina remained silent, her fingers tightening around her glass. The unspoken question hung in the air, a weight pressing down on them both. Patrick, sensing her silent answer, sighed. It was a sigh that held a lifetime of longing, a lifetime of unspoken words.