With Love, Étienne | ✓

Chapter Nineteen

THINGS HAD GOTTEN MESSY.

After leaving Louella's house after a long six hours, it was pitch-dark by the time I arrived home. My hands were clenched around the steering wheel the whole journey and I tried all of those breathing techniques they showed online to calm yourself down, but nothing worked. She made me promise her before I left that I wouldn't do anything rash to Milo but with how my thoughts were looking, I wasn't going to be able to keep that promise. It was the only one I was willing to break for her. There wasn't any way I was going to be able to even look at him anymore and I wanted him out of my house.

Tonight.

No if's, but's or and's. He had to leave and I didn't care too much for he had his parents' house only a few minutes down the road from us. He could walk the distance there and camp outside for all I cared. My hands were gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. The car wheels were screeching from left to right as the rain slammed down on the windshield and I struggled to even see out but my mind was even thinking straight while I ferociously drove home. I didn't want to waste another second of having someone like that inside my house.

Finally, the familiar, dim street lights came into view and I breathed a sigh of relief that I was home. My car came to a abrupt halt in the driveway and with frazzled, shaking hands, I sat there for a moment. I tried to tell myself to get out, to move - do something, anything, but my body betrayed my brain. I sat there, simply staring out the window, watching the rain pour down while my muscles tensed up to the point where they began to ache.

After taking a few moments to calm my raging mind, I wiped the fresh tears away and stormed my way up the footpath. The front door slammed against the wall with a loud bang and I knew my face looked deadly. Venomous anger hissed and burned my veins. It whispered sweet-nothings in my ear, jeering and cheering when Milo jumped off the couch at the sound. His eyes were wide and alarmed but he breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed it was me.

"Jesus Étienne," he sighed and placed a hand on his chest, "You scared the shit out of me. Have you ever heard of opening a door slowly?"

I realized I had kept the devil by my side for years. He was right here all this time, disguised as my 'best friend.' How easy had it been for him to fool all of us with his smiles, charm and laughs? How could all of us ended up blinded and bewitched by him? It sickened me to my stomach that I had allowed myself to be friends with him - that I let him into my family.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he finally took in my darkening expression, "Did something happen?"

"Get out."

Those were the only two words I could mutter through gritted teeth without feeling like I would lose control. My words were spat with a coldness and ferociousness that I had never used with Milo before. Even he appeared confused at the sudden shift in my demeanour. He tried to shuffle closer to me but raised his hands in the air when I hardened my glare and he froze in his step.

"Étienne?" he released an uneasy laugh, "What's wrong with you?"

"Pack your shit and leave. I'm giving you half and hour. If you're not gone by then, I'll call the police and have them remove you."

"What the fuck?" he flinched backwards, "Why?"

"You know why," I hissed, "Don't even try to play dumb with me. The fact that you're still pretending that you don't have a clue what's going on is only pissing me off even more. So I'm only going to say this one more time before I lose my shit: Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House."

"Did Louella tell you something?" he probed, "That's where you went, right? What story did she spin to you?"

"Milo!" I roared but my voice cracked at the end and fresh tears stung at my eyes. I clamped my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. My knees buckled and threatened to give out from underneath me. I had to hold on to the door frame to keep myself from falling over. My nails dug into the hard wood and I welcomed the pleasurable pain.

I sucked in a sharp breath and pointed at the door, "It's taking all of me to stay calm right now, so please leave while I'm asking nicely."

Milo threw his head back towards the ceiling and scoffed. He shook his head in disbelief at my words.

"What did she tell you?" he pushed, "I bet she told you that I did something, right? Did she pretend to cry a few crocodile tears too?"

That was the losing point of my patience. I couldn't hold back anymore. There was a pressure building up in my chest and with every second that I tried to keep it inside, it only pushed to free itself more. It was suffocating - to the point where I couldn't breathe. It encapsulated every fibre of my being. There was no escape from it. It screamed, roared and wreaked havoc in my brain. And simply seeing Milo stand there with a defensive expression made my blood boil. The fury and fire hissed around my veins. I could almost hear its sweet murmurs, edging me closer and closer to violence. Its taste was fresh on my lips and it tasted too addictive to turn away from.

Without thinking, I grabbed the closest object near me that turned out to be a glass vase. Although it wasn't much, I held it up in the air threateningly when Milo tried to edge closer to me. My voice was hoarse and wet tears dripped from my eyes. They slid down my cheeks and pattered on to my shirt, leaving small damp spots. Milo watched me through careful eyes.

"Étienne, come on man. What are you doing?"

"I told you to get out," I choked, "I can't even fucking look at you anymore."

"Just let me explain," Milo pleaded, "I promise there's an explanation to all of this. Lou's not telling you everything-"

"Don't say her name!" I shouted and spit hung from my teeth, "You don't even deserve to pass her name through your lips."

My grip tightened around the glass vase and Milo glanced nervously between me and the object. He shuffled back a step and stared at me with wide eyes, almost begging me to understand him. But I couldn't - and wouldn't ever try to.

Milo sighed, "Look, I don't know what she told you but I swear it's not as bad as she probably made it out to be."

"After knowing everything that happened with me, you go and do this to someone?" I cried, "Not just anyone, but our own best-friend? The one person we told we would protect and care for?"

It was strange how easily Milo had fooled me. Not just me but everyone. How easily he found it to lie to me when I would ask how Louella was, or how he could smile and laugh around her, knowing that he had committed one of the worst crimes in the world. My stomach churned and with my free hand, I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from throwing up everywhere. The room was blurred and spinning around me and soon enough, Milo's words became muffled to my ears. I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying and I collapsed to the ground. The vase crashed with me on the floor - shattering into millions of tiny fragments. They laid around me, some cutting into my skin while Milo's trembling figure backed away. I couldn't even feel the shards piercing my skin for I was numb to every emotion. I didn't know what to think or even feel. My entire world had been torn apart and turned upside down.

Everything I had known wasn't true anymore. The people I trusted the most were those I shouldn't have had and that hit me like a dagger to the heart.

"Just leave," I whispered in a cracked voice, "Please."

There I was, on the floor, drained. Like a balloon that was popped, the fight and anger dissipated out of me. My shoulders slumped and my face crumpled. Milo stood away from me, an unreadable look on his face. I couldn't tell what was going through his head and I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to know. A heavy silence coated the air and for once, Milo didn't speak. He didn't try to justify his actions or convince me to listen to him.

"If our friendship ever meant anything to you. . . get out," I said, my voice barely audible.

His eyes were glued onto mine and his throat bobbed up and down a few times before he cleared his throat. He blinked in rapid succession and it seemed like he was trying to hide his own tears. His jaw was clamped down and he picked at the skin of his thumb. And then, without uttering another word, he grabbed his coat from the arm of the couch and slipped past me and made his way towards the door. Only when I heard the opening and closing click did I let myself break down once more.

My mouth opened to let loose a cry, its eternal scream getting caught in my throat - never to be heard. . . or answered.

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