Coffee

Part Forty-One: The Truth Sucks

Staring up at him, I can't move or speak.

How does he know?

And if he knew earlier, why didn't he say anything?

I don't understand and at the moment, I don't have time to play catch up.

"Helen." He growls.

"I'm sorry." It's all I can think of. It's completely and utterly stupid, but my mind is so fogged and twisted that I don't know what to do. What do I do other than apologize.

"You're sorry? Sorry for what?" He wants me to say it. He needs me to say it.

"For everything. I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from kissing me. I'm sorry it lead to two minutes of him trying to initiate sex. I'm sorry that the only thing that stopped it was my guilt. Max, it shouldn't have happened. I should've told him from the beginning about us. I had all the opportunity in the world and I fucked up. I don't know what was going through my body last night, but I felt paralyzed by him. I wanted it. There- I said it. But Max, I care about you so much...."

"Care about me...phhh...." He scoffs and shakes his head. "Caring is nothing apparently. This relationship is nothing."

He....he doesn't mean that.

"Max..." He snaps.

"No! Helen! No! I don't know what's wrong with me to keep staying around for this bullshit. You don't know what you want Helen. In the last month and a half of dating we have had more fights and arguments and one of us upset than a normal couple would have in two years! I don't know if it's just for you to feel something other than guilt and grief or to convince yourself you don't have to runaway any more: but whatever it is it's not working! It's not!" He yells and turns away from me. His voice echoing through the house. I shutter and my tears falls hard from my eyes. "You're constantly running Helen. You hide behind the lie that you're fine and your happy. But you're not happy Helen. You're not fine! I think you enjoy this back and forth game we're playing of this drama. Well news flash: I don't! I feel like I'm drowning from it all!"

His breath is becoming ragged and I shake as I lean against the hallway wall and just stare at the floor. He's on the opposite side of the entryway, but he's pacing.  I let him say it all. I let him be angry and upset because he deserves too.

"When I was messaging you on Tinder- that's the woman I fell for. She made me feel like I mattered and that I was wanted. Where's she at? Because any more I'm not convinced she exists." My heart aches and I slowly slide down the wall and fold my knees to my chest. My tears sting my cheeks and I feel so small and useless and terrible. Max just keeps pacing and I watch the floor in front of me. "Was any of it real to you? This whole time? Any of it? Because it was more than real for me, Helen. When I told you I wanted to be with you for as long as I was around- I meant it. Every kiss and holding you and being unable to sleep at night with out in my arms- that was real!"

With my face in my knees, I shake and cry and feel sick to my stomach. It was all real for me too. It was all so very true. But he won't believe me if I say so.

***5 Years Ago***

Crash!

A glass shatters on the floor as Mohammad throws his tantrum. He's drunk. It's the first time in nearly a year that he's drank. He wanted to go out with his friend at the bar and I stayed home. I had a rough day and this is only making it worse.

"I can't fucking believe you Helen! I can't fucking believe you! You're so fucking stupid!!!!" I'm crying and he throws glass after glass across the hall at me. Hunkering down, I hold my knees to my chest- gripping my arms as tight as I can in hopes that this small tight ball I've created will ward him off as I try to do all I can to block out his booming, echoing voice.