Page 138 of Bitter Rival

“That was all in the past,” he protests. “I told you I’ll do better. You have my word. Cross my heart.” He gives me a lopsided, boyish grin and crosses his heart with his finger. I used to think that was the most adorable thing.

But how many times have I fallen for this act? Too many to count.

“I really wish your word meant something to me, Finn, but you’ve broken every promise you ever made. You cheated on me. You stole from me. You lied to me. You chose drugs and music and partying and other women over me time and time again. You have never put me first, Finn. Never. And I…”

I let out a shaky breath and blink back the tears. “I spent years wondering what was wrong with me that no one has ever loved me enough to put me first. But you know what? That’s on me. Because I allowed it. I allowed it because I didn’t think I deserved better. But I do. I deserve to be treated with respect. I deserve to be loved by someone who puts me first. So I need you to give my keys back and I need you to pack your bags and leave. I need you to go, Finn.”

I’m shaking but it’s out now. I’ve said what I needed to say, and he needs to respect that.

He works his jaw and I have to look away, so I won’t see the hurt in his eyes. “This is bullshit, Daisy. I love you.” His voice cracks on the words and I hate it.

I hate hurting him. I hate that I’m being forced to do this at all.

But it needed to be done. How long have I been putting up with his crap? How long have I been avoiding this conversation, and accepting the way he treats me?

The way everyone treats me.

My mind reverts to Beckett and a tear slips down my cheek.

No more.

This is the end of allowing people to walk all over me.

The start of putting myself first.

“No one knows you like I do,” Finn says. “No one will ever love you as much as I do. We’re good together, Daisy. Just give me a chance to prove it.”

“Our love was toxic. That’s not the kind of love?—”

“That sounds like the kind of bullshit your therapist was feeding you. She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. We’re not toxic, babe. We just went through a few rough patches. Nothing we can’t fix.”

I grit my teeth. He’s still trying to argue his side. Completely dismissing everything I said and treating me like I don’t know what I want.

Yet another example of how little he respects me. He doesn’t value my opinion or care what I want because he’s too busy thinking about what he wants.

I’m starting to wonder if we ever truly loved each other at all. Or if we were just codependent.

“Haven’t you heard a single word I said? I have given you so many chances. Way more than I should have. You’re not getting another one. And what’s more, I don’t want to be with you. I’ve changed. I’m not that same screwed-up girl you knew all those years ago. And I won’t be taken advantage of anymore. Not by you. Not by anyone.”

His eyes narrow. “Hang on. This isn’t because of the therapist. This is because of that asshole out in California, isn’t it? Did you fall in love with him?” He lifts his chin. “That’s why you’re saying all this, isn’t it?”

This is so like Finn. Instead of accepting the responsibility for his own actions, he’s always looking for an excuse or someone else to place the blame on.

My hands ball into fists at my sides. “I’m not asking you to leave so I can be with someone else. I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I’m choosing me. I have to start putting myself first because no one else ever does. I need you to leave.”

Because I’m about to break down and cry and I don’t want to do it in front of you because you’ll assume my tears are for you.

“You don’t mean this. This isn’t what you want.” He sounds so cocky, so certain that he knows what I want better than I do. What is it with the men in my life? “Why don’t you sleep on it, and we can talk in the morning?” Finn pushes off the wall. “How about I make you some of that tea you like?—"

“Don’t tell me what I want,” I grit out. “If you ever cared about me at all, if you ever loved me, you would want me to be happy and you would respect my wishes. Get. Out!” I yell, pointing at the door.

He holds up his hands. “Chill. I’m leaving.” He fishes his keys out of his pocket, tosses them on the coffee table and strides to the door while I stand in the middle of the living room, feeling like my heart is shattering. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I’m the only one who really knows you. The only one who ever stuck around. And why do you think that is, Daisy?”

He's being mean. On purpose. And even though I’m trying to block out his words and not let them get to me, they still do.

When the door closes behind him and the locks slide into place with a ring of finality, I slide down the wall, hug my knees to my chest, and cry.

Am I so unlovable?

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