‹ Prequel: Autumn's Monologue.
Sequel: Nothing Like You.

Hold Me Down

I Can't Explain.

He let out a defeated sigh—did he really expect to just push whatever was weighing me down away? Did he really think I could do that?

“What did you do Mikey?”

He sounded bored—almost as if he expected me to go back to one of my old habits—even after so long. My jaw dropped in disbelief at his reaction—seriously.

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?”

He sat up, folding his legs beneath him as he stared just above my shoulder, glancing out the window that sat behind me.

“It was only a matter of time before you did something. Everyone knew it, everyone saw it—everyone but me apparently.”

He finally let his eyes meet my own, he was slightly afraid of what I was going to admit.

“Would you like to guess what I did or have me tell you?”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“No need to get snotty about it.”

I just rolled my eyes. His eyes widened as he looked at me once again.

“Tucker knows something…what did you lie about?”

I knew there was no other way around this then to just spill the truth as it was—is. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders as I looked down into his eyes—pure honesty reflected in my own.

“I slept with someone else.”

He bit his bottom lip and gave a small nod—his eyes faltering from my own down to our bed spread. In the weakest tone I have ever heard him use he uttered one small word.

“Who?”

He was refusing to look at me—he wanted to but he wasn’t going to. I closed my eyes and listened to our breathing—erratic. I heard a sharp intake of breath before he asked another question—this time I felt his eyes on me.

“It wasn’t that Bert asshole was it? You know, if it weren’t for that dick none of this would be happening…you wouldn’t have gone to rehab, you wouldn’t have done whatever the hell you’ve done to yourse—“

I narrowed my eyes at him before speaking up—harshly.

“If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have Tucker. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t even be alive. I don’t trash your best friend; I don’t appreciate you trashing mine. And no, it wasn't Bert it was Bob.”

I quickly climbed out of bed, rushed out of our bedroom, ignoring his calls for my return. I grabbed my hoodie and slipped on my shoes and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. Stupid move I know but the direction of that conversation would only end in sorrow—more than would’ve been necessary.