That Blue Gibson: Another Round

eighteen

You guys are the sweetest. Thanks for the birthday love!

He looked up from his phone when he heard her truck through the open french doors in their bedroom, timing the sounds of her opening the door and moving through the house. She headed to the kitchen first, dropping her keys and bag on the island and then calling out to him. 

"Dave?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Not without completely coming unglued. The only thing holding him together at that point was a tiny thread of sanity, but even that was quickly unraveling. 

The sound of her shoes on the steps made his spine snap straight and the adrenaline rush through his veins. And he waited. Waited for her and waited for that tiny thread to finally snap.

She knocked softly on their bedroom door and peeked in, frowning at how dark the room was. "Dave?" she asked again.

A responding grunt was all he offered, swinging his legs off the side of the bed to wait for her to come closer, which didn't take long. She knew something was off the moment she looked at him, her eyes filled with worry.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

Again, he waited until she was rounding the side of the bed and in front of him. 

"How long, Elizabeth?"

She stared down at him with a questioning look, following his movements as he carefully set his phone down on the bed beside him, screen side up. The glowing screen reflected in her confused, then horrified eyes before she choked on a gasp.

"Dave-" she coughed and stuttered, diving towards the bed to try and reach his phone.

"No," he growled, pulling her back from the phone and bringing her face just inches from his. "How long have you been fucking him?"

"Stop," she said softly, now with tears filling her eyes, "I need you to listen to me-"

"Answer me, Elizabeth. It's a simple yes or a no. Are. You. Fucking. Taylor."

"No! How could you-"

He dropped her arms and shoved off of the bed, unable to touch her any longer. "You're gonna lie to me? Really, Liz? I know you're smarter than that."

"I hate that you think-"

"Oh, you do?" Her words spurred him into action, grabbing the phone and stalking over to back her up against the wall. "You hate that I'm accusing you or you hate that you got caught?"

He had trapped her between his closet and their bedroom door, just daring her to answer him as she stared up at him with wide, scared eyes and a mouth that was apparently at a loss for words. 

A few seconds were allowed to pass before he pushed away with a bitter murmur, "He just can't keep his fucking hands to himself, can he? Every woman I've ever loved, he just had to fuck. I'm gonna fucking kill him."

It took her a moment to regain her senses and follow him down the steps, but she was surprisingly quick and slid herself in front of their large front door before he could open it.

"Move, Elizabeth."

"No. Not until you listen to me. This isn't what you think it is," her words were rushed and then gone when he lunged forward to pick her up and move her away from the door, backing her into the wall once again.

"You two have been fucking around behind my back since, what? February? My birthday? And every time I bring it up, the bullshit with Calliope gets dragged out to remind me that I'm the fuck up here! To make me believe that I was the one in the wrong! I've been tearing myself apart for you, Elizabeth and the entire time you two are doing this," he held his phone up and backed up a step, worried that he was so angry he might actually hurt her.