Make It Or Break It

Present

Michael

She was crying and I don't know what the fuck just happened. I reached out to her but she swatted my hand away.

"I let you get to me again. You almost fucking had me." she mumbled to herself, shaking her head and wiping her tears.

"Lauren." I said, trying to soothe her. I tentatively put my hand on her waist, and brought the other to her face, wiping the tears.

Her big brown eyes looked up at me. She licked her lips.

I went to kiss her again.
Because obviously I wasn't thinking with my head.
She pushed me away.

Then her hands were on my shoulders as she maneuvered me to a corner of the room.

"Stay there." She said.

"And quit fucking kissing me." She walked over to the opposite corner, and stood with her back to the wall.

We were as far from each other as physically possible.

"What happened just now?" I asked her. I was so fucking confused.

"Something that shouldn't have."

"You keep saying that, but I don't feel like that. To me, it felt pretty fucking-"

"Stop." She said. "Just please. Stop."

I watched as her body gave in and dropped to the floor.

I didn't know what the fuck to do. One second we were making out and was hot as hell. The next second-this.

I was cautious as I took steps closer to her. I squatted in front of her so I could see her better.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I hoped it came out concerned, and not that I thought that she was acting bat-shit fucking crazy.

When her eyes met mine, she no longer looked sad. She looked-determined, maybe?

"What happened, Bradford, is that I already let you break my heart once."
Then she stood up, adjusted her dress, and walked out of the room.

I didn't call her name.
I didn't stop her.
I didn't follow her.
I just sat there, in a dark room, feeling sorry for myself.

Because as much as I tried to convince myself over the last year or so, that she didn't care-or that she wouldn't care-in just a few words she proved me completely wrong.

She felt it too.

She felt everything I did.