Rebel Heart [#1]

THIRTY-FOUR - Meeting

This is it. 

I thought I'd have more time but I managed to fuck things up even before I had planned to. I shouldn't have let Erica stay that long in the parlour. I had been avoiding her as much as I could but she weased her way into staying longer claiming business matters.

While I saw right through her shit, I didn't have the energy to deal with her tantrums so I let her linger around. Until she kissed me. At the fucking worst time. 

For a moment there,  I didn't have a reaction but then my stomach coiled, and as it felt wrong,  I finally stepped away. That's when I saw her.

To say my heart dropped to my feet is not enough.

Maybe it's for the best, that she already hates me. This is meant to go to shit anyway, I just managed to achieve it earlier.

But the guilt is eating me alive and it saddens me as much as it angers me, how quickly she managed to creep under my skin and make it a home.

The mere thought of seeing her in a romantic way with someone other than me makes my body burn and my bile rise. I have experienced it quite a few times by watching the chemistry she and Shane share. Witnessing their connection awakens the green monster inside.

And I shouldn't. How can I feel such strong feelings as jealousy or possessiveness when she's not even meant to be mine?

Last night was my way-out ticket. What I wanted... So why am I not happy about it?

Why am I not so keen on staying away? Fuck.

The only thing that has been able to take my mind off of her is working out. Physical effort is the only thing that can lighten the pressure I feel on my chest and the weight on my shoulders. It's all anticipation for the storm that's about to hit and it could be at any minute now. Any second or minute more is a step closer to the breaking point.

My mind reels with the expectancy of how it'll go. It's as if my mind can conjure her by the corner of my eye, while I punch the bag at the gym.

I can already imagine her angry face asking me "Is it true?"

BAM. A punch in the bag.

"You're a fucking liar."

BAM. Another punch.

"You motherfucking liar, I'll rip you in half."

BAM.

I can see her shout it at me and try to hit me. I'd laugh if it wouldn't be directed at me.

Every time my mind conjures a different reaction, I hit the punch harder and even though I am slowing down due to the sore muscles, I can't stop. Each time my mind conjures a new and angrier reaction, I grow angrier as well. Angry at me, for fraternising with the enemy and letting the motherfucking plan backfire.