Page 43 of What are the Chances

“I care because it means you’re technically still with him, Charlotte.” I clench my teeth, the pressure intensifying with every passing second. “Tá mé chomh amadán.”

Charlotte takes a deep breath, obviously frustrated with my sudden use of Irish.

“English, please,” she grits out.

“I said, I‘m such a fool.” I roll my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m stupid for thinkin’ you were through with him.”

“Mason!” she yells. Her voice echoes off the stone walls, her eyes burning. “What are you talking about? I broke up with him. The words ‘We’re over’ literally fell from my mouth.”

“You failed to mention the part where you didn’t speak to him, Charlotte. How do you know he even heard the voicemail? He thinks you’re still his girlfriend and...” I scoff thinking about the incredible two nights I had with her, feeling her body against mine, he lips press against mine. “We fucking slept together, Charlotte.”

I know I’m angrier than logically necessary, but I can’t help it. It’s as if there’s something buried deep within me, wearing me down and tearing down the logical side of my thoughts. It’s as if the past ten years have come back to me, reminding me of a life I wanted to forget.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she storms toward me, stopping several yards in front of me, a single tear spilling from her eye.

“So, what you’re saying is because Kyle didn’t answer his phone and we didn’t have a full-on conversation, I’m still technically his girlfriend.” She raises her hands and motions quotations with her fingers around the word ‘technically’. “You’re saying,” she continues, “I cheated on Kyle with you! Even though I’m done after the years he treated me like shit and after the absence of him suffocated me to the point I felt so alone, he deserved more from me? He deserved to hear me explain to him why I was the one who was done?” She raises her finger and points directly at me. “It’s like I told you the other night, Mason. It’s not a relationship when neither person is even in it. He can’t force me to stay.”

My breaths are heavy and rapid, listening to her voice crack, her emotions taking her over. I didn’t mean to make her cry, and watching her now, in one of my favorite places after the day she’s had, I feel awful. My stomach turns, realizing I’ve fucked up. Charlotte isn’t even officially mine, and I’ve already given her a reason to cry.

“Char, I’m sorry,” I breathe out.

I wait several agonizing seconds, watching as she nods, wiping the tear from her cheek.

“Do you know what I want to know, Mason?” She doesn’t allow me the time to answer her before she continues. Her glassy hazel eyes stare straight at me, burying themselves deep in my soul. I hold my breath, waiting to hear the next words from her mouth. “I want to know why you always need to know more about me than I do you.”

Swallowing my nerves, I stare back at her, sending her a million apologies. She’s still upset, yet despite knowing this, I can’t bring myself to answer her. Sometimes, we avoid our pasts for so long, they become a distant memory. They become a part that no longer resembles the person you once were. My past is something I’ve wanted to avoid. Something so powerful, I decided to put it behind me a long time ago and never looked back—until now.

I take a deep breath and match my eyes with hers.

“What do you want to know?”

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