Sometimes he loves me

Chapter 35

FINN

"You're back." I hear Sem say to Emma as she walks into her office. I throw one last glare at the back of Emma's head before I walk to the lift.

I feel like punching holes in every wall around me, but I contain myself and insert my key into the keypad next to the ground buttons. I press in my personal code and the lift immediately takes me to the basement. The only floor where I built several small rooms that only me and the Burrows brothers have access to. It's where we can handle other businesses in complete discretion and where I can now put my anger into the piece of worthless flesh that betrayed my brother and thought he would be saved by fleeing to America.

Little did he know I'd catch him.

I blow out a heavy sigh when the doors open and I enter the small hallway leading up to the heavily secured and soundproof door. I lift my hand up to another keypad and absentmindedly type in my code again while my mind wanders back to Emma's empty eyes. She looked so tired... What the hell is she even doing here at MMR? And in that dress, those heels. Shit, I wanted to bend her over my desk then and there to fuck the sadness out of her.

My dick hardens at the thought.

I never expected my feelings to be this strong. It has been three years since I let her walk away. Three torturous years. I missed her so much to the point I just went numb.

Closing the door behind me, I walk up into another hallway to one of the rooms where the Burrows brothers already stand beside the door, guarding who's inside. I nod at them and they open the door for me after which I walk in while putting my black leather gloves on.

The Burrows brothers were Andras' gift to me when I moved to New York and started my business here. Two loyal dogs that he met at the juvenile detention centre when he got locked up for our father's death.

Not that he killed him of course, he was just
protecting me.

I turn the light on and see Dean open his eyes, blinking because of how bright the light is. He looks up at me and tries to say something through the white cloth in his mouth.

"It's not polite to speak with your mouth full." I say and walk towards him. I rip the cloth out of his mouth and he immediately starts to yell at me.

"So now he sends his little brother to do his dirty work?"

I take my knife from my pocket and look down at him. "Go on, underestimate me. I'm in a great mood to make you suffer." I say emotionless.

🖤

EMMA

"Hey." I say through my phone as I walk towards the closest supermarket.

"Why didn't you answer? I've called three times already." Vincent asks on the other end of the line. He doesn't sound mad, just curious.

"I just finished my internship and I didn't look at my phone until now. Sorry."

"That's okay. What time are you home for dinner?"

"I'm walking to the supermarket to get dinner right now, so I hope to be home in 30 minutes or so. Can you cook tonight, please? I'm so tired." I sigh. It feels like I could sleep for days or even months.

"That's what you are for, aren't you?" I hear noise in the background, a TV. He is probably at home on the couch.

"What?" I ask confused. "Cooking?"

"Yeah, women belong in the kitchen." He jokes. "Besides, you're a better cook than me." My head starts to pound at his words.

"I'm really tired. You only work half days on Wednesdays anyway. You've been home for what? Three hours now?" I try to persuade him. Not that it ever worked. In our years together, he may have cooked for me three or four times.

"Men shouldn't cook, honey."

I've heard his old-fashioned bullshit plenty of times by now. According to Vincent, women have to take care of the entire household because men work the most. He forgets that the women of this modern society also have work, or in my case an internship and go to school.

Breathe, stay calm. Don't cry. "Okay babe, what do you want to eat?" I sigh.

"Surprise me."

Great.

🖤

After I put our plates and pans in the dishwasher and turn it on, Vincent comes up behind me and kisses my neck. "I'm going to play pool with the guys. I'll be back later tonight."

I turn to him. "Again?" I'm too tired to hide my disappointment. I don't feel like having another evening on my own, even though we barely talk when he's around. "This is the third night in a row."

"Sorry that I have a life." He sighs.

My disappointment turns into anger. "What the hell?" He walks out of the kitchen and heads for the front door, but I follow him. "Are you saying that I don't have a life? Why would you say such a thing?"

"You're so fucking sensitive, can't take a joke? Are you on your period or whatever?"

My hands start to tremble at his tone. Not from nerves, like they used to, but of anger. "I just want to have one fucking night with my boyfriend, is that so bad?" I say angrily.

"Watch your tone." His voice is low and threatening, but it doesn't bother me. Not anymore.

"No, I'm—" He won't let me finish my sentence and walks over to me. He grabs my shoulders with both hands and pushes me against the wall.

"Watch. Your. Tone." He repeats slowly. His fingers pinch my skin menacingly, a sign that he's not afraid to hurt me.

"Sorry." The word barely escapes my lips, but not out of fear. I am not afraid. Tired perhaps, but not afraid. "I just don't feel heard by you. I miss you and you've been so mean to me lately."

I miss you or rather; I miss the person he was when I just met him. Why does my heart refuse to see that that person is gone and probably not coming back? Why does my heart refuse to accept that? Why does my useless broken heart keep hoping that the Vincent of the past will suddenly return. I'm not even sure if I'd feel the same if he returned to be like his old self. Too much happened...

I just wanted to be the girl that would never give up on someone, no matter how fucked up they are. I always dreamed of being the perfect girlfriend, the perfect wife, the perfect mother. The one everyone goes to... And now everything is in shambles just because I chose to love someone who isn't capable of loving me back. Maybe that's what you get for growing up in an unhealthy household where your mom always forgives your dad.

When I was forced to come back three years ago, I hated it, but things got better and I forgot about the reason I came back. Since then I forgot about a lot of things he did to me, which makes it easier to be with him, but in moments like this everything comes back to me.

"Maybe you should stop playing the victim all the time, life is hard enough, don't make it harder for yourself. I already give you enough attention as it is, much more than you deserve." He states, and without waiting for an answer, he lets go of me and closes the front door behind him.

Even if he had waited for an answer, I don't know if I would have been able to come up with one.

I feel like a child when I start to cry. My emotions are all over the place, but tears are better than feeling nothing. Sometimes I crave emotions, good or bad, because feeling nothing makes me wonder what the point is of living at all. Those thoughts are the ones I fear most since they've been creeping up on me more and more lately.

Out of sheer anger, I grab a pile of towels from the stairs and throw them against the front door. The soft thump against the door and then on the floor is not satisfying enough.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" I scream.
He can't hear me but it feels good to say.

"I fucking hate you!" I scream one last time as I knock over the narrow little dresser under the coat rack. The box with keys breaks on the wooden floor.

I look at the mess I've made and drop to my knees, crying again. I close my eyes, exhausted. Why is there so much wrong with me? Why can't I do anything right?