Pitbabe S2, Chapter 25 pg 5

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 25 pg 5

   He shouted so loudly it felt like I was a rigid object slammed against an equally hard surface. Neither side broke, but the impact made me tremble all over. I’ve never gotten used to Charlie’s yelling, and I doubt I’ll ever learn to live with it—whether we were together or after we broke up.

   “I know what I did was awful. I hurt you, and saying ‘love’ isn’t an excuse. I know. But it’s the truth. The truth is I did everything because I love you so much I couldn’t just stand by. But what you are doing now? It’s not that at all. you are trying to hurt me. Babe is playing with others’ feelings just to feel satisfied. you are doing this because you hate me!”

   It was as if a thousand pebbles were crammed in my throat, so tight it was suffocating and painful. There was no room for sound to escape. My body shook, my eyes burned, and of everything he said, nothing hurt me except that last sentence.

   Hate… I hate him?

   I swear, if I could choose, I’d want it to be that way. If hating him was the reason for all this, it would be so much easier. At least I wouldn’t feel pain every time I looked at him. Decisions would be trivial, and seeing him hurt would just be a game show for me.

   “Why did we end up like this…?”

   In the end, Charlie broke down crying. His voice trembled, his legs gave out, and he sank to his knees on the floor. He knelt in front of me, reached out to touch my thigh… and sobbed.

   “Is it because of me…? Did I make us like this, Babe?”

   I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me wanted to blame him—blame him for choosing something else over me, for not listening to me, for leaving me, for making me suffer every day without him. I wanted to say outright that everything falling apart was because of Charlie. But I couldn’t speak, because deep down, I still hoped I could understand him.

   I hoped there was a good reason behind all this pain, something that would let me understand and forgive him. And then there’s the truth I didn’t want to admit: it always takes two to destroy a relationship.

   “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t want it to be like this. you have every right to be angry, to hate me, to mess with me however you want. But can I ask for just one thing?”

   Charlie looked up at me, tears streaming down both cheeks. I hadn’t seen him cry this hard in so long. His entire body and voice trembled, so fragile that I wanted to pull him into my arms, hold him close. My heart softened seeing someone as strong as him so defenseless.

   “Don’t play with life and death… I’m begging you.”

   I never wanted Charlie to kneel and beg me.

   “you can hate me, but please don’t do this to me.”

   Not even once.

   I was crying just as much as he was. I tried to hold it back, but the sight of Charlie kneeling before me, pleading for me to stop hurting him, was more than I could bear.

   I promised to love him the best I could, but today, I hurt him in the cruelest way two people who love each other could.

   Why did the two of us… end up like this?

   Even now, I’m at a loss for words. My head is flooded with thoughts, but I can’t get a single one out. The most I can do is lean down to him, kneel, and hold Charlie tightly, crying with him, hurting together. The wounds we’ve unknowingly inflicted on each other have cut deeper than we ever intended.

   “…I’m sorry.”

   My voice is soft. I used to be terrible at saying this word. Whenever I wanted to, it felt like something was stuck in my throat. But Charlie made me more comfortable with it, able to say it more sincerely. Still, it’d be better if I didn’t have to say it to him so often.

   “I know you hate me, but you didn’t have to go this far,” Charlie mumbled, his voice muffled. He was crying so hard his words were starting to slur.

   “I don’t hate you.”

   “If you don’t hate me, then why do this?”

   I couldn’t answer.

   All I could do was hold him tighter, praying he could feel what I was hiding inside. I wanted him to understand it with his heart and not question it, because I didn’t think he’d accept the answer if it came from my mouth.

   “When you cry, I cry,” Charlie said, slowly pulling away from the embrace. He looked at me, his face still streaked with tears—partly from the pain of me toying with his feelings, and partly, deep down, I knew he was relieved this was just my pointless prank. “When you hurt, I hurt too.”

   “I know,” I replied quietly, reluctant to admit the growing guilt over my own plan. But I couldn’t deny that Charlie had a special ability to make me feel rightfully guilty for my actions. He probably thought it’d make me a better person.

   “Even if nothing’s wrong with Babe, just thinking something is hurts me.”

   “I know…”

   “No, Babe, it really hurts,” Charlie said, his tone serious. He clutched his chest as if to tell me the pain he was talking about wasn’t just a metaphor for sadness—it was real, physical pain in his body. “Right here, it hurts for real. Hurts like I could die.”

   “What, do you have a heart condition or something?”

   “Maybe.”

   “What?”

   Charlie burst out laughing when he saw my shocked, wide-eyed face. Realizing I’d been played, I smacked his arm with a loud whack, punishing him for joking about life-and-death matters (just like I did earlier).

Previous

Next