Even Heroes Have Scars

[106] The Art of Starting Over

Demi's P.O.V.

I almost laughed at myself as I stood on Ansley's doorstep for the fourth night in a row. I told my driver to wait a few minutes before leaving in case Ansley turned me away. I knocked on her door, and when she didn't answer, I knocked again until she finally opened it.

"Listen, you don't get to shut me out right now," I demanded when she opened the door; I let myself in and stood with her in the living room.

"Demi..." she said in a warning tone.

"No, don't interrupt me. We had sex. Three days in a row. It was great. But as soon as we're finished, you act like you're disgusted with me and make me leave, and that's fucked up. I'm worth more than that. We are worth more than that. So, I want to give this a try, and I need to know if you're in or if you're out," I said sternly with my head held high.

"You should go," Ansley said, the same phrase she'd used all week.

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you. Why won't you just fucking talk to me?" I asked.

A soft feminine voice came from the hallway. "Is everything okay out here?" A girl emerged from the hallway, long brown hair falling to her waist not dissimilar to mine. She wore one of Ansley's oversized sleep shirts. I now noticed that Ansley was also in only a sleep shirt and underwear, like she had just thrown it on as she sauntered toward the door when I knocked.

"Wow. Okay. Guess that's my answer," I said as I turned to the door and walked out.

I sat in the car in tears as my driver took me home. I was embarrassed to say the least. Here I was thinking I meant everything to her the way she meant everything to me, but I was wrong. I was nothing to her. Nothing more than a good lay.

Fuck her, I thought. No. As mad as I am at her, I can't even truly say that and mean it.

I cried myself to sleep that night and told myself I was done trying and that I'd just pretend we never loved each other in the first place.

But when I awoke the next day, I knew I couldn't give up. Maybe I could do something to change her mind. Deciding to see her in the daylight, I went to the diner around noon, hoping she would be coming up on her break time.

I paced outside the diner for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it, even if she ignored me. This was really something I should've figured out before I showed up. I briefly made eye contact with her through the windows, and she immediately headed for the door.

"What do you want?" she asked as she opened the door of the diner. "You're pacing. You're gonna start freaking people out, and then they're gonna recognize you." She re-entered the diner, and I trailed behind her.

I sighed. "Can we please talk?"

"No. It's... very busy in here. Lots to do."

I looked around the diner at the one customer in the corner.

"You're kidding, right?" I nearly laughed. "Can't you take your break, so we can talk?"

"I really can't."

Britney yelled from the kitchen, "Go on, Ansley. Me and John can hold down the fort for a few minutes." She tipped her head toward the newest hire that was bussing a table.

Ansley sighed and ripped off her apron. She frustratedly led me to the alley behind the diner where nobody could hear or see us. Her car was parked back there, so she leaned against it.

"What?" she asked – or rather demanded.

"Why won't you talk to me? For days, you just discard me when I'm done being of use to you, and honestly, that's disgusting as fuck. I... I refuse to be treated this way," I explained.