You Don't Know..What you Don't Know

Chapter 47- Winter

Randy texted me every day for the next two weeks. I answered politely, but every conversation ended the same way.

I need some space.

One morning, I woke up with a strange sense of clarity.

It wasn't fair to Randy.

He wanted more than I could give him. He was living an adult life while I was still trying to figure out what it meant to be seventeen. I wanted to enjoy the rest of high school before rushing into a future I wasn't ready for.

So, with a knot in my stomach, I drove to the apartment.

I dreaded the conversation.

A guy I didn't recognize answered the door.

"Randy's in his room," he said casually.

It wasn't that early. We needed to talk, so I headed upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door without knocking.

"Sorry to wake you, but—"

The words died in my throat.

Randy was in bed.

He wasn't alone.

For one suspended heartbeat, everything inside me froze.

Then something shattered.

"You son of a bitch."

Randy's head snapped up.

"Tia—"

"No." My voice cracked with fury. "Don't you fucking dare."

His eyes widened as reality hit him.

"Bastard!" I screamed. "Fuck you!"

I slammed the bedroom door so hard the walls rattled and stormed toward the stairs, barely seeing through the tears burning my eyes.

Justin caught my arm before I made it halfway down.

"Oh my God, Tia," he pleaded. "He was drunk last night. I swear."

I ripped my arm out of his hand so violently he stumbled back.

"Don't touch me. Don't any of you touch me."

The second he let go, Randy exploded out of the bedroom.

"Tia! Tia, wait!"

I reached the landing before spinning around.

"I'm sorry!"

"I love you!"

The words detonated every ounce of restraint I had left.

"You love me?" I screamed.

The entire house went dead silent.

"You LOVE me?"

I laughed—a sharp, broken sound that even I didn't recognize.

"Is that what you call love? Lying to me? Humiliating me? Climbing into bed with someone else the second my back is turned?"

My voice echoed through the stairwell.

"You don't know the first damn thing about love."

His face crumpled.

"I—"

"No!" I pointed at him, shaking with rage. "Don't say another word. Don't you dare stand there and tell me you love me after this."

Tears spilled down my face, but I didn't care.

"You can shove every 'I love you' you've ever said straight to hell."

I took another step backward.

"You know what? Keep your apologies. Keep your excuses. Keep your drunk bullshit. And keep every girl stupid enough to believe you."