Page 100 of Falling Offsides

I know she’s upset. I know she’s angry. But fuck if it doesn’t feel like I’m suffocating under this weight.

I knock, just once.

It’s enough to make her freeze.

When she opens the door, she doesn’t even give me the chance to speak before she starts.

“Go away.” Her voice cracks with fury. “You’ve lied to me this whole time! This whole time!”

I try to speak, but she doesn’t give me the chance.

“Don’t you dare make excuses,” she snaps, stepping forward. “I thought I was wrong. Thought that…”

“Court—”

“Oh my God… no. You think I’m going to fall for your sad face?”

“Wha—”

A guttural sob cuts through her chest as she states, “I am not my mother. I’m not… I’m not.”

She takes a step back and pushes the door into my waiting palms.

“Can you just hear me out?”

“No. I don’t need to hear anything you have to say. You’re a liar… a selfish fucking liar. Just like him. I know guys like you, Auguste. I have all the excuses and all the apologies memorized.” There’s angry and then there’s…Courtney. Her index finger is stabbing into her temple with every word she spits at me. “I’ve lived with them all my life. I’m not doing this. I’m not… you need to leave me alone. Stay away from me.”

Her words hit like blunt knives, hacking at my chest.

“Courtney… please… I can't let you go.”

I see the shock flicker in her eyes, and it makes me want to rip my words out of the air and swallow them whole.

Except it's too late.

“You what?” she asks, voice completely broken. “You never even had me.”

It’s a lie she’s telling herself. To save her from the fact she’s as fucking deep in whatever we’ve become as I am. I know that, but it doesn’t sting any less.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice raw as she backs away from her door, not bothering to force me away while she disappears inside her dark apartment.

Before Samson can run inside, I pick him up and hold him to my chest, staring inside through the empty hallway to the deathly still living area.

I’m paralyzed.

I want to scream.

I want to break everything in sight. But I’m not sure what hurts more—the anger or the realization that I just lost her. That everything I’vedone up until now, every fucking thing I thought I was building between us… it’s gone.

I walk back into my apartment, my body on autopilot. I can feel the panic rising in my chest, but I don’t know how to calm it.

I need to fix this.

Except, I have no idea where to start.

I grab my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial Étienne’s number. The line rings, once, twice, before he picks up.

“It’s one in the morning. This better be good,” he grumbles.

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