Page 52 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“Yes, actually. You know how I told you I never wanted Tristian at the apartment? And how I especially didn’t think he was a good person to be around Danny?”

“Oh boy...”

“So, you brought him around Danny at night when I wasn’t home? That was nice of you.”

“Okay, so? I broke up with him. It was a mistake, God.”

Mistake...

“How many times did you bring him here while I was at the bar? More than once?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Not a mistake then.” I sit on the bed and pull on my socks. My back faces her.

“It’s over now. He won’t be back here.”

“You never told me what it was that made you break up with him, exactly. That frightens me a wee bit.”

“It’s my story, and I’ll tell it the way I want to.” She smirks and flips over completely so she doesn’t have to look at me.

“Don’t use that against me. You don’t understand what I’ve—”

“Peter! It’s over now. I’m not going to see him anymore. Just forget about it! When he came here, he didn’t say one word to Danny. In fact, Danny was the one saying words to us, and we just ignored them.”

“I would hope so. He’s in middle school. You’re an adult. Start acting like it!”

“How did I think this was ever going to work? It has been—” she picks up her phone. “Wow, not even twenty-four hours, and we’re already fighting about something that happened WEEKS AGO!” She sits up.

“All I want is a simple apology. Just an ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t have any respect for you.’ That’s it! Could you say that for once in your life?”

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! There. Are you happy, shit-for-brains?”

I’m quiet for a moment.

“I really did like honey better than shit-for-brains.”

“Then stop lecturing me and be sweet like honey! I know you know how to do it. I saw you do it yesterday.”

“I wasn’t trying to be—” I sigh. “I just wanted you to... I just want to feel like I’m in control of the situation.”

“Well, I’m not yours to control! You can’t control everything and everyone!”

“I should be able to control what goes on in my apartment.”

“Yourapartment? Okay. It’s all yours. We’re in a relationship and you still. Can’t. Share. ANYTHING!”

“We’re hardly in a relationship. You just said it yourself. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”

“It feels like it’s been twenty-four years with you! You make every day seem like it’s never going to end!” she yells.

“Yeah? Well, you’re no better than I am. Yup! You just deflect everything on everyone else so that you don’t have to feel guilty about anything! Me? I own my guilt. I swim—No, I drown in my own fucking guilt every day, and I don’t blame anyone but me for the shit that I’ve done!”

Why did I just say that...?

“Like what shit? What shit have you done?”

“Plenty of shit.” I stand.

---