Mandy (Heaven Hill Shorts #10) by Laramie Briscoe

Author:Laramie Briscoe [Briscoe, Laramie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laramie Briscoe Books
Published: 2020-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

“Tomorrow I’ll move my stuff back to the house,” he kisses me on the forehead.

Immediately I’m panicking, thinking about him moving his stuff back into the house, knowing all of this isn’t fixed. I’m not sure it ever will be. Again, he’s taking more than I’m offering to give.

He always does this to me.

“No,” I whisper. “Dalton, things still aren’t fixed.”

He pulls back from me, jerking his shirt tails back and tucking himself into his jeans. He’s pissed, his face is a dark cloud of irritation.

“Well, I kinda feel like we fixed some things.”

He always wants to run before we walk, and I don’t know how to make him understand that just because he wants things to be better, just because we were able to come together like this doesn’t mean things are perfect. It doesn’t even meant things are okay.

“We fucked, Dalton. We both had needs, they were met. Physical needs, met by physical pleasure.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why can’t you see?” Tears stream down my face now. Why can’t he see what I need? “Why can’t you see what I need from you?”

He grabs me by the arms, getting into my face.

“Why can’t you fucking tell me what you need from me? I keep making gestures, I keep trying and you continue to tell me that whatever I’ve done isn’t good enough. What do you expect me to do, Mandy? Please, just tell me.”

“I don’t know!”

My scream can probably be heard for miles as it reverberates off the hills of the surrounding property. I continue screaming those words over and over again. Hoping someone will take me out of the pain I’m in. Hoping against everything that someone will just fucking fix me. When he tries to grab me for a second time, I shrug him off, turning so that I’ve facing him.

My shirt is hanging halfway off, tears are making tracks down my face and I’m fucking miserable.

“There’s something,” I point to my head. “Going on up here, and if you think I’m not scared to death after what happened with Travis, then you don’t know me, Dalton.”

“I do know you, babe,” he takes what I’m sure he believes is a safe tone with me. “Which is why I’m telling you, I need to be with you and Walker.”

“No,” I shake my head. I’m done letting people decide my life for me. I can do this. For one time in my life, I can do something on my own. I don’t need someone to hold my hand and baby me. “I need to figure this out for myself.”

“No,” he argues. “You need me, you need your family.”

My smile is sad, much like me. “There’s no way you can need me. You hate me for losing our baby, and to be honest, I hate me too.”

Before he can say anything else, I’m in my car, driving home, wiping the tears from my eyes. His smell surrounds me, but it doesn’t help, not like it used to. It just makes me feel more hopeless.

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