Because You Said Forever

Part 13

Nick's P.O.V

"Hi?" I breathe into the phone, the nervousness probably apparent in my voice.

"Are you coming home? Anytime soon?" I hear Joe's sarcastic voice float through the line. I glance over to Damien, where he's still standing in the doorway. He gives me a look that says 'good luck' and shuts the door as he walks out of the room, probably not wanting to hear our conversation.

"Uh, maybe?" I reply cautiously.

"Well, I want an answer as to what sort of living arrangements there's going to be. Are you living with Damien? Or coming back home?" he asks, his voice laced his cruel sarcasm.

"W-Why should I go back to you? All you ever do is hurt me," I ask accusingly, not willing to go back to him any time soon.

"Nick, you know I never mean it... when I saw you kissing Damien I thought I might lose you. And I can't lose you," he tells me sweetly, but I know he's lying. I purse my lips and scratch the fabric on the couch. He's played this card too many times for me to believe it anymore.

"I don't believe that. The only reason you don't want to lose me is so you have someone to screw when Damien's not around."

"Are you and him dating, Nick? He's not right for you. He doesn't love you like I do."

"Y-you don't. And we're not."

Joe's voice is pleading and squeaky as he begs, "But I do, Nick! You have no clue how much I love you! I understand if you never wanna talk to me again, and I understand if you never wanna see me again. But I've realized my mistakes and I'll never do it again, I swear! Please, Nick! Please come back to me! I love you!"

"Joe, you hurt me. I know it wasn't in love. You cheated on me, and that's no where near what I want in a partner. You're still my brother, but I don't want to talk to you anymore. If I see you ever, I'll ignore you. This is the hardest thing for me to do right now... because I still
love you."

"So, are you planning to stay at Damien's then?" his voice switches right back into the sarcastic abusive boyfriend voice; the voice I'm scared of. "What will I do with the apartment then, Nick?" he asks accusingly, and I don't respond, not knowing how to work that out. "I can't pay for it myself!" he yells into the phone.

"It's my apartment. You should just leave."

"Then where will I live?"

"That's your problem," I growl, pressing the 'off' button on the phone forcefully.