Page 58 of Cain
She huffs and sits on a chair across from me. It’s vinyl. The seat is torn.
Well, that’s how we roll at Nectar!
She folds her hands primly in front of her like we’re at confession. “Faith, I just want to say I’m sorry. Truly. I didn’t think it would go that far.”
A few months ago, I would’ve just walked away and not talked to her. But I healed. Now, I can confront my villains, my tormentors, my demons.
“You didn’t think framing me for theft would gothatfar? How far did you want it to go?”
She flinches. “It was…look, we thought you’d get scared and leave, that’s all.”
I frown and tap my chin with a finger dramatically. “But you had your boyfriend arrest me.”
She purses her lips. “I was protecting my brother.”
“From me?” I lean back and I have to say it’s a comfortable chair.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay. Just accept the apology.”
I can’t help but laugh. Princess doesn’t know how to apologize. She’s missing some screws for certain. Her ethics are lacking. She has zero integrity.
I’m not wasting my time with her.
I get up. “Was that it?”
She swallows, tears welling in her eyes. “Look, I know what we did was wrong. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And…I’m sorry.”
I nod slowly, like I’m considering it. “I don’t think so.”
Her face tightens. “Faith?—”
“I’m not your redemption story.” I place the palms of my hands on the table and lean forward. I’m not angry, I realize, I’m strong. I’m past this shit. “Cain did what he did without knowing. You, on the other hand, fabricated the entire thing. That makes you a terrible person, and I don’t want to spend another second listening to you.”
She stands up. She’s shaking with what looks like anger or desperation. I’m not sure. “You think I haven’t paid? Kyle left me. Cain won’t talk to me. Our parents have cut me off. I need money.”
I throw my hands up in exasperation. “I’ve got no money. And even if I did, I wouldn’t give you a dime.”
She glares at me. Now, there’s venom in her eyes. “Since you’re fucking my brother, why don’t you talk to him. He’ll listen to you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You came here to ask me for help?”
She looks defiant, but then, after battling with her ego, she gives a slow nod.
I burst out laughing. “Christ, Paula. I’m not your savior.”
I walk to the door, open it.
“Faith—"
“We’re done.”
