Page 78 of Submissive Lies

“Yes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jen. You are something else. That’s all you have to say? That’s all I’m going to get?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it fucking matters!” Thomas’ fist slammed into the couch, and I flinched. “What the fuck kind of comment is that! ‘Does it really fucking matter?’ You are way too fucking intelligent for me to buy that bullshit, Jen. You have fucking lied to me and lied to me and kept whatever the fuck has been going on away from me, and now you just want to sit there and wipe it all away with this ‘does it really fucking matter’ shit!”

He rose, stepping towards the window.

I curled my legs under me tighter, hands clenching around my cup. When he whirled towards me, I did not flinch, but faced him head on.

“No.” His finger stabbed at me. “No, fuck you. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on for the last month, but you do not get off with that crap. Maybe you fell out of love with me a month ago, or even before that. I don’t know. But I sure as fuck know you did love me at one time. And I loved you too. And you do not get to just fucking walk away with from this with four fucking words, Jennifer Boyd.” He’d stepped towards me as he spoke until he stood over me, looking down. I could have been afraid. Should have been. But I wasn’t.

“You. Owe. Me.” His finger jabbed downwards with each word. He stood staring, anger rolling off him in waves.

I stared back, defiant.

He turned slowly, moving back to his end of the couch before sitting down. The next words that came out of his mouth were controlled, unyielding.

“You owe me, Jen. I don’t care what the fuck you think of me right now, but you owe me the goddamn courtesy of telling me exactly what the fuck happened here. And what the fuck is going on.” He turned, and stared at me with eyes that were cold, dark.

“And you are going to do it. Right now.”

“Wait. Are you fucking trying to tell me you think this is my fault!”

“You were the one who ignored my calls. And my texts.”

“Because I was tired of being ignored myself, Jen! Of being lied to!”

“I didn’t lie...” I started to protest and then stopped.

-Yes you did.-

“Yeah.” Thomas gave me a knowing look, his lips pulled into a tight slash across his face. “That’s right. I’m not fucking stupid, Jen. I knew something was going on. And I got tired of you never being truthful with me. Every time I asked, I got some lame bullshit excuse that it was nothing. That it was work. To just leave it alone. I put up with that for, what? A month? Yeah. After that, I decided that I was going to force the issue, one way or another. I thought you were going to say something that morning before you left, but—nope. Same bullshit. I was done with it. So, I’ll be the first to admit it was petty, but if you wanted to treat me that way, I figured I could fucking treat you the same way in return.”

“Well, that’s really fucking great, Thomas. Bravo to you. You sure showed me. Put me in my place, didn’t you?”

“Don’t even try to twist this to—”

“Fuck. You. I’m not trying to twist anything. You did this! You! Not me. I was trying to talk to you! I was trying to tell you the fucking truth!” I slammed the coffee cup down onto the table. “Fine, sure, maybe I waited until the worst possible moment. But that excuses you for nothing. Because your fucking timing was for shit, Thomas. Not just mine. And I want you to know something else. If you fucking think for one second that you’re the only one who suffered here, that this was something that wasn’t tearing me to fucking pieces…” My throat was raw. The words had built almost to a scream, and I could hear it. Feel it in the way my body shook. I stopped myself, my chest heaving. I sucked in one breath, two, doing everything I could to bring myself back under control. “If you really think that, then you can go fuck yourself. I was scared, Thomas. I was frustrated. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. All I knew is that I was tearing myself apart. And that the longer I lied, lied to myself and to you, the more it was going to hurt.”

“Well it seems like you did a pretty fucking bang-up job of that.”

“I know.” I laughed desolately, a rictus-like grin stretching skin. “I did. Oh, and by the way—fuck you.”

“I remade myself. Into a person that wasn’t who I truly am.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Said what?”

“’I’m not who you think I am.’”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“What?” I stared at him, shrugging my shoulders.

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