Page 30 of Losing Control
He didn’t mean to.
It was an accident, surely?
“I don’t think that I need to explain my actions here. I think that it is perfectly clear why I had to react like that,” Michael says before he turns his back on me and walks to the kitchen doorway. Before disappearing from view, he turns back around to face me. “But just so we’re clear, you made me do this. You took my love for granted and pushed me to do this. Maybe next time you will think twice before you disrespect me, Lucy.” I don’t miss the evil tone that his voice has taken on.
With that, he walks down the hallway and into the bedroom. I let out a whoosh of air as I fight to contain the tears that emerge.
Maybe next time?
Next time?
There won’t be a fucking next time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trapped
I’m fucked.
Completely and utterly fucked.
I sit on Kim’s sofa, nursing my bruised cheek. I left the apartment last night as soon as Michael shut the bedroom door. It only took seconds for me to grab my bag and go. I didn’t want to waste any time by staying there a moment longer than I needed to. God knows what else he would have done with the mood that he was in.
He has tried calling my phone all day and all night long. He’s left voicemails, text messages, and every single one states how sorry he is. And my pathetically in love heart is melting towards him.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
It won’t happen again.
I’m an idiot.
I lost control.
I’ve never done anything like it before.
I love you.
I love you.
I fucking love you.
His words play on repeat in my head, and I am hopeless to stop them. The problem right now is that Michael has made me happier than I ever have been. I see him as my soulmate. He’s my one and only, and how the hell am I supposed to turn away from that feeling?
“Are you not going to tell me what happened?” Kim asks as she comes into the lounge and flops down beside me.
“I told you, it was just a stupid argument.”
“Must have been pretty bad for you to come here,” she replies softly.
“Well, I just needed some time to cool off.”
“You did, or he did?”
“Me. Michael hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
