Him:
"You're crazy." Maya snaps. "I'm going to walk, like I always do."
She storms off, her small frame radiating defiance with every step, and all I can do is stand there like an idiot. I shouldn't have said it. The whole "boyfriend" thing—what the hell was I thinking? But when I saw that jerk gripping her arm, bruising her skin like he owned her, something in me snapped.
And now, she's mad. At me. For protecting her.
Nah, there's no way I'm letting her walk home alone, especially not when that cabrón could still be lurking around. I take my bike and follow behind her at a distance, the sound of the engine filling the tense air between us. She glances back once, her dark honey eyes narrowing at me before she turns away and mutters something under her breath. Probably cursing me out, but I don't care.
My eyes dart to her arm, the one she's rubbing every few steps. He hurt her. That bastard hurt her. My stomach churns, a sick, violent urge to find him and make sure he never lays a hand on her—or anyone—ever again.
Then she speaks. "Dylan is my ex-boyfriend, by the way." Her voice is clipped, guarded, but the words hit me like a brick to the chest.
Her ex. That makes it worse.
"And I'm guessing you two didn't split up on good terms?" I try to sound casual, but the edge in my voice betrays me.
"Obviously." She doesn't even look at me, which is probably for the best. If she did, she might see how much this is messing me up.
"How long did it last?" I ask before I can stop myself.
She sighs, long and loud, and for a moment I think she won't answer. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters," I snap, my jealousy slipping out. "I want to know how much time you wasted on that asshole."
"Six months."
Six months. My jaw clenches so tight I think I hear my teeth grind. Six months of her being his, letting him hold her, kiss her, touch her. The thought makes my blood boil.
"Why were you with him?" The question slips out before I can stop it, bitterness dripping from every word.
She shrugs, her pace never faltering. "I loved him."
Two simple words, but they slice through me like a blade. She loved him. My grip on the handles tightens until my knuckles turn white. The thought of her giving her heart to someone who didn't deserve it—someone who hurt her—makes me feel like I'm losing my mind.
"So... what happened? Why did you break up?"
She stops walking and turns to me, her eyes locking onto mine for the first time since we started this miserable conversation. "You're asking too much, creeper."
"You're still being difficult." I push back, my voice low and sharp. "Just answer the question."
"Why would I tell you?"
"Because I want to know why someone like you wasted six months on someone like him." The words come out harsher than I intended, but I don't care. "Just... tell me."
She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping just a little. "He hurt me. I left."
That's all she says. But it's enough to make my vision blur with rage. Hurt her? How? Physically? Emotionally? Both? The thought of anyone causing her pain sends a fresh wave of fury through me. My hands tremble with the effort it takes not to turn my bike around and hunt him down.
"He... hurt you?" My voice is low, trembling with barely contained rage.
"Yep," she says, her tone flat, like it doesn't matter. Like it's not still weighing on her. "Happy now?"
"No, I'm goddamn pissed."
"God, it's impossible to make you happy," she mutters, rolling her eyes.
If you smiled at me, I'd die the happiest man on earth.
"Joder, Maya," I snap, my frustration boiling over. "How could I be happy when you're acting like a damn brat? And I still can't believe that you would date someone like him."
"It is what it is," she says, shrugging again. Then, with a bitter smile, she adds, "As Stephen Chbosky once said, we accept the love we think we deserve."
Her words hit me harder than any insult ever could. Why does she think she deserves that kind of love? Why can't she see what she's worth?
"How... how did he hurt you?" I ask, my voice quieter this time.
She points to a building a few blocks ahead. "That's my house. Thanks for the chitchat."
Before I can respond, she starts walking away, her pace brisk and determined. "Oh, and I'm still mad at you for saying you're my boyfriend. I didn't need you to save me."
"No seas estúpida," I snap, unable to stop myself. "What was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch that shithead put his hands on you?"
"Exactly," she says without looking back. "I'm so glad we're on the same page now. I'll see you tomorrow."
And just like that, she's gone, disappearing into her building without so much as a backward glance. I sit there for a long moment, staring at the door she vanished through, my chest tight and my mind racing.
"Damn it," I mutter, revving my bike and speeding off.
~Hey besties, I hope you're having an amazing day. Thank you for your time <3
