Page 64 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
“No, you don’t.” His voice grows colder. “Let’s leave it like that.”
God, why are none of my thoughts coming out the way I want them to? Why do I keep saying everything wrong? Looking at Elio though, I don’t think it would matter what I said or how I said it.
Maybe this is his way for looking for a way out, and I’d just made it easy for him.
“Owen said you were good at leaving people behind. And it looks like he’s right,” I shoot back, my anger flaring.
It’s so hard to believe that the man I’d just had sex with and the one in front of me are the same. His entire attitude has changed.
Elio’s jaw clenches, and I can see the anger boil beneath his icy stare. He grips my arm so tight that it’s painful, making me wince.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with my son,” he growls, his words a low, dangerous rumble. “You need to learn how to keep that mouth closed if it’s not going to do anything useful.”
Useful as in with your cock inside of it, right?
“Then tell me!” I cry out, desperate to break through the walls he’s built around himself. “Tell me what happened between you and Owen. Tell me why you’re so angry, Elio. Please.” I think back to our date at the diner…he’d asked about me, but I still knew nothing about him. I wanted that to change.
“Enough,” he snaps, releasing my arm as if I’d burned him. He turns away from me, his back rigid. “You don’t get to demand answers from me, Stella. You don’t get to act like the victim just because you were caught.”
“That’s better than screwing me to say goodbye!” I scoff. “How about you get off your high horse and admit that you know I didn’t do anything wrong. You just want some reason to be mad at me! You don’t touch someone the way you touch me and then leave. There’s something between us, and you’re scared to admit it.”
I don’t know if I’m talking about his feelings or mine.
He turns to face me, his eyes guarded. “There is no ‘us’, Stella,” he states flatly, each word like a dagger to my heart. “Whatever you think this is, it’s not.”
“Really?” I counter, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “Because it felt real, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it that way.”
“Feelings can be deceptive,” he says coldly, and I fight back the tears threatening to spill over. I refuse to show him how much his words hurt me.
“Is that what you really believe, or are you just trying to convince yourself?” I challenge, my hands trembling at my sides. “You can push me away all you want, but I know there’s something between us.”
“Stella...” His voice is firm, but I detect a hint of sadness beneath the steely exterior. “You need to let this go. It’s for your own good.”
“Who are you to decide what’s best for me?” I throw back, anger and frustration boiling within me. “Why won’t you just give us a chance?”
Elio’s jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold, impenetrable mask.
“Because I realized something tonight,” he admits. “It doesn’t matter how much I may care about you, how much I enjoy spending my time with you…you’ll always be half my age. You’ll always be the ex-girlfriend of my son. It’s time for us to stop living in a fantasy world and move on.”
He’s right. It’s unconventional - this thing between us, but that doesn’t make it wrong. It can’t. Going after what I want can’t be. He’s the one who taught me that.
“So you’re walking out, just like that?”
“Stella, please,” he sighs, not meeting my gaze. “There is no future for us, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”
His words sting like salt in an open wound, but I refuse to let him have the last word. “Fine,” I say, my voice laced with determination. “Walk out that door, Elio, and when you do, know that there’s never going to be anything between us again. You walk out that door, and I won’t even think about you again.”
He hesitates for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But then his expression hardens once more, and he takes a step back from me.
“Stella, I’m sorry,” he says coldly, his eyes no longer filled with warmth or affection.
And then he’s gone. The door swings shut behind him with a resounding click, sealing off any hope of reconciliation. And as I stand there in the empty room, the silence seems to swallowme whole, leaving nothing but the echo of my own heartbreak to keep me company.
My legs tremble, no longer able to support my weight as I crumble onto the floor like a discarded toy. Tears stream down my face, unchecked and unbidden, sobs wracking my body with a force that leaves me gasping for breath.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mutter between sobs, cursing myself for letting this happen. For letting him into my life, only to have him rip it apart and leave me shattered on the floor.
Like father, like son.
