Forgetting Roman

{forty}

{forty}  

Although I knew I shouldn’t have, at midnight, I drove towards the old spot where Roman and I would escape to when we wanted to be alone. As said, he was there, leaning against his black Camero, dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie.

                Coming to a complete stop next to his car, I turned off the engine and stepped out. Leaving my bag and phone in the car, I stuffed my keys into my leather jacket and leaned against my own car and stared at the man who was held at gun just days ago.

                “You came,” Roman breathed out, surprise thinly coating his words. His deep voice sent chills down my spine but I ignored them as I nodded and turned my head towards the view.

                We were surrounded by nothing, merely a view that was both beautiful but tainted.

                “I know. It surprised me as well.” I responded after a few seconds.

                Although it was pitch black outside, I could see the smirk crossing over his lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

                I ran a hand though my hair and exhaled. “What do you want?”

                “About what you saw the other day…” he began but I shook my head and snapped my attention at him.

                “I saw you with a gun pointed directly in your face,” I spit out. “A fucking gun, Roman.”

                “I need you to forget,” Roman said ignoring me. “Forget what you saw. Forget about me.”

                I snorted out a bitter laugh and shook my head as I pushed myself away from my car and took a few steps towards him. “That’s rich.” I spat. “You strut back into my life, stalk me practically, corner me at a party and give me that stupid ass speech about how you want to fix us; then you have the balls to tell me to forget about you? Fucking shit, Roman, what do you think I was doing all this time?”

                Roman remained silent with his usual impassive face painted on.

                “I fucking hate you.” I told him, “I hate you so fucking much. I was fine!” I yelled. “I was doing perfectly fine up until you showed up again!”

                “You think I wanted this to happen?” Roman spat back as he pushed himself away from his car. “Do you think I knew you were in Charleston?” he asked. “I didn’t,” he continued. “I had no fucking idea you were in Charleston, Aspen, and if I did, believe me when I say that I would have never stepped foot into that fucking town if I knew you were in it.”

                I opened my mouth to reply but was cut off by Roman’s hand being raised in the air to silence me. He had more to say.

                “I left for a reason,” he told me. “I left because I didn’t want you wrapped up in the mess I created. I left because I was no good for you. Although you were flawed, you had a bright future ahead of you. I didn’t. I was already in too deep in the life I was living, and I was only dragging you down with me. I couldn’t do that to you, but fuck Aspen, I missed you, okay?”

                In my chest, I felt my heart constrict. It was the same pain I felt when I found Roman gone. It was the same pain I felt when Noelle told me she had been sleeping with him. It was the same pain I felt whenever I remembered him.

                “You say you hate me,”

                “I do,” I cut him off a bitter tone laced in my words.

                “And you have every right to,” Roman reasoned, “But I never meant to hurt you and I did love you, Aspen.”

                Another snort of bitter laughter escaped me and I shook my head.

“No you didn’t.” I told him as I turned to meet his gaze. “And neither did I,” I continued. “Because if you really did love me, you wouldn’t have of cheated on me with Noelle, and if I really did love you, I wouldn’t have of cheated on you with Dylan.”