Behind the Curtain (Sequel to "Letting Him Go")

Chapter 7 - The Game

"Get out," I growl, my arm pinned across his shoulders. I feel the hatred spewing from my throat and spilling into the air between us— consuming me from within as I hold him tightly against the wall. And all he does is blink. 

"No." 

Hot anger bubbles in my chest— the extraordinary calmness in his eyes only making it worse.

"I won't ask again," I say slowly. Does he not understand that this isn't a game? The game is over— there are no more excuses for him to be back here, no more excuses for him to stick his hands into her life and mess with her heart. She waited for him to prove her wrong— to prove that it wasn't just for the movie and that for once, someone would give it all up to be with her. But he never called, and I was done waiting a long time ago.

He shrugs under my grip— his cool blue eyes mocking my rage as he shows no intention to leave. I absolutely lose it.

"GET OUT." I scream into his face, releasing him roughly and pointing at the door. My hand trembles in the air. At this point, I am hysterical. I just want him to leave her— leave us alone. If he can't give her the happiness she deserves, I don't want him here. He hangs over our lives like a heavy cloak— a constant reminder of the hope and the joy he once brought us, only to whisk it all away in the end. I don't want her to suffer anymore.

"No," he repeats.

I sigh in defeat, slumping against the couch. The adrenaline escapes my body and turns to tears that sting the corners of my eyes. I give up. I'd never win against him. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers, trying to hold myself together.

"Aren't you hosting this thing?" My voice is rigid.

"Yeah." I open my eyes to see him standing in front of me, his hands in his pockets. His suit is slightly crumpled and his golden hair is tousled out of place, but his expression is intact— calm waves sweeping through his ocean blue eyes. Stupid blue eyes.

"So...shouldn't you be out there anyways?"

"Yeah." He tugs down his sleeve and looks at his watch. "I guess so." I look at him in bewilderment as he sits down in the chair across from me.

"Well, she won't be back for a bit," I tell him dryly, clutching my phone to my chest.

"I can wait."

I shake my head, standing up to walk towards the door— I have to go. If he wants to be ridiculous and miss his appearance, then so be it. But in my world, the show must go on. I turn around to face him with my hand lingering on the door handle and my chest immediately tightens. I think of how she will fall apart when she walks in here and sees him for the first time in months— the way the tears will flood her eyes and the memories will flood her heart.

"I swear to God, Bradley..." I trail off, unsure how to continue. There's so much to say, but not nearly enough words to describe the pain of the last few weeks, and the pain that is sure to come. I want him so badly to heal her— to be her forever, but we all know that there is no place for such simple love in this horribly complicated world. So all I can think to do is push him far far away, where he can't remind her of everything they once had— which was everything they lost. 

"I know." He rocks forward in his chair, burying his head in his hands. He knows he shouldn't be here and he is ashamed, but he can't possibly stay away. I feel a twinge of guilt— the slightest ounce of empathy trickling into my cold heart, reminding me that I used to love him as well. I take a deep breath.

"I'm so scared," I whisper, my forehead pressed against the doorframe. "I'm so scared of how much she loves you, because that's how easily you can break her."