What if? | Frank x Brenda

Chapter 06

As soon as Brenda and Jack stepped out of the compartment, the atmosphere shifted. Teresa del Taco, who had been silently fuming during the conversation, could no longer hold back her emotions. She turned to Frank, her eyes narrowing with a cold, calculating glare.

"You know," Teresa began, her voice dripping with condescension, "it's funny how you talk about your past with Brenda as if it was something meaningful. But look where you are now—living in a ruined grocery store with a human who could've killed us all, while Brenda and I are building a life together that you could only dream of."

Frank's jaw tightened, but he kept his cool, refusing to let her words get to him. "What's your point, Teresa? That you're better than me? That you won some kind of competition? Brenda's her own person—she makes her own choices."

Teresa let out a bitter laugh, her smugness growing. "Please, Frank. Brenda chose me because I'm successful, because I'm everything you're not. You couldn't keep her interested, couldn't give her what she needed. But I did. I'm the one she's with now, and nothing you say or do will change that."

The words stung, and Frank could feel his anger rising. He'd always known Teresa was arrogant, but hearing her so blatantly diminish what he and Brenda once had struck a nerve.

"You really think you're all that, don't you?" Frank shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "You think just because you've got money and power, you're better than everyone else. But you know what? You're nothing but a bully—using your success to put others down, to make yourself feel superior. And if you think that's what's going to keep Brenda by your side, then you're more delusional than I thought."

Teresa's face twisted with anger, but before she could retort, Frank's temper finally snapped. He stepped forward and, with a swift motion, slapped her hard across the face. The sound echoed in the small compartment, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

Teresa stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide with shock. For a moment, she was speechless, not just from the impact but from the sheer audacity of what Frank had done. No one had ever dared to lay a hand on her, let alone challenge her so directly.

Frank's chest heaved with the intensity of his emotions, his hand still stinging from the force of the slap. "You don't get to talk down to me, Teresa. You don't get to act like you're above everyone else just because you're scared that someone might actually see through that bullshit you call confidence. Brenda might be with you now, but if you think you can keep her by treating her like another trophy, you're going to lose her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you will. And when that happens, don't blame me for it."

Teresa's eyes blazed with fury, but beneath the anger, there was something else—fear. Fear that Frank might be right, that her hold on Brenda wasn't as secure as she pretended it was.

Before she could respond, the compartment door slid open, and Brenda and Jack walked back in, the tension between Frank and Teresa palpable. Brenda immediately sensed that something was wrong, her eyes darting between the two of them.

"Is everything okay in here?" Brenda asked cautiously, her gaze lingering on Teresa's reddened cheek.

Teresa forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Everything's fine, darling. Just a little...disagreement. Isn't that right, Frank?"

Frank didn't reply, his expression unreadable. Instead, he turned away, letting the silence speak for itself. As the tension in the compartment simmered, Brenda's eyes kept flickering toward Teresa, trying to make sense of the cold hostility radiating from her wife. But it wasn't until she noticed the faint red mark on Teresa's cheek that everything clicked into place. The realization hit her like a freight train.

"Frank," Brenda's voice started low, a warning, before it erupted into a full-throated scream. "You dick! You absolute bastard!"

Frank flinched, more from the sheer volume of Brenda's voice than the words themselves. He could see the fury blazing in her eyes, the same fire he'd seen before—back when things between them had started to crumble.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Brenda continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and disappointment. "You're still the same selfish, violent asshole who can't control himself! I thought—no, I hoped—that you might have grown up, but I can see now that was just wishful thinking."

"Brenda, wait—" Frank began, but Brenda cut him off with a sharp gesture, her hand slicing through the air.

"No, Frank, I'm done waiting. I'm done giving you the benefit of the doubt." Brenda's voice was filled with a finality that shook him. "Teresa was right about you. I didn't want to believe it, but she was right. You're toxic, and I can't have that in my life anymore. Not now, not ever."

Teresa, still reeling from the slap, glanced at Brenda with a mixture of relief and vindication. She stepped closer, seeking comfort, but Brenda didn't notice. Her attention was fixed solely on Frank, the man who had once meant everything to her, but now represented everything she had fought to escape.

"I thought we could talk, maybe find some closure," Brenda continued, her voice softer now, almost sad. "But there's nothing to salvage here. You're stuck, Frank. Stuck in the past, stuck in your own anger. And I'm not letting myself get dragged down with you."

With that, Brenda turned on her heel, grabbing Teresa's hand as she moved toward the door. "Come on, Teresa. Let's get out of here."

Teresa, regaining some of her composure, nodded and followed Brenda without a word, leaving Frank standing there, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a ton of bricks.

As the door slid shut behind them, Frank felt the full force of the silence that followed. He had thought, for a brief moment, that reconnecting with Brenda might offer him some redemption, a chance to make things right. But instead, he had only succeeded in pushing her further away, proving that maybe he hadn't changed as much as he liked to believe.

He slumped back against the wall, the fight drained out of him. Somewhere deep inside, he knew Brenda was right. He hadn't changed—not where it mattered. And now, he was paying the price for that.