A Dash of Complications

Chapter 7: Game On

IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME. I KNOW. IM SORRRY. summer has been surprisingly busy for me. plus, i didn't have a single idea for this chapter. but i forced myself to sit down, and once i got past that mental block, it all came naturally. anyway, thank you for reading!!!!

Chapter 7: Game On

LIKE MOTHER LIKE daughter.

I honestly shouldn't be surprised.

Fuck.

For one crumbling moment, I considered leaving and breaking down in my car. Crying until I could no longer think or breathe. Screaming until my throat ached. Breaking something just as he'd broken me. Cursing him to the depths of hell.

But there was part of me that knew I couldn't let him have the satisfaction.

I couldn't let myself break yet.

Xavier pulled away from the girl just as I strode towards him, trying to keep my face passive.

At the sight of me, the girl balked, hastily muttered something to him, and then darted away.

"How could you?" My words felt weak, but I could hardly be bothered by it. All my resolve was centered on not breaking down.

It felt worse standing in front of him, knowing that I'd watched him kiss someone else. He'd taken a fear, an insecurity, and he'd heartlessly against me. Fuck, he'd actually did it. A part of me wanted to laugh; the other part of me wanted to cry.

Infidelity was a wordless act that spoke volumes. It implied several things, especially the fact that you didn't respect your partner enough, because you decided the risk of hurting them was worth it.

Xavier had somehow managed to twist the knife in further, because me accidentally stumbling upon him hadn't been an accident. It couldn't have been. This had been done with malicious intent, and that made it even more repulsive. He had wanted to meet here, and he knew I was on my way. He wasn't reckless enough to risk cutting it this close, which meant that he had wanted me to catch him in the act. Some cruel, twisted part of him had wanted me to see him and hurt.

Xavier shrugged carelessly, looking completely unfazed when he met my eyes. "Weren't you coming here to breakup with me, anyway? Does it really matter?" He rolled his eyes and leaned against his car.

Suddenly, it made sense.

So this had been a way for him to hurt me before I could hurt him?

I wanted to scream in disbelief.

Anger surged."Does it matter?" I repeated venomously, hating how much it stung seeing the nonchalant expression on his face, when I felt like my chest was being ripped apart. "Of course, it fucking does. We aren't even broken up, and you thought it was okay to kiss someone else?"

"Honestly, we might as well say we ended things," he droned. "It doesn't matter if this was ten minutes before or later. It's still the same."

My chest heaved. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You knew this was the one way you could hurt me most. After everything I told you, I can't believe you could be so fucked up. You'd taken something that I had confided in you about and used that against me like a weapon. Was it really worth it?" My voice broke, but I quickly steadied myself. "Yeah, it's real charming. It says a lot about your character."

"And what about yours?" he shot back easily, pushing off his car and standing in front of me. He stared me down in a way he used to stare down his opponents. Intimidation. "I've been trying to contact you for days. I've sent you several texts. You could have at least returned a response." Immediately, I felt guilty. "Yeah, I thought so," he scoffed, taking my silence as a victory.