My Future Husband

Chapter 50

“I’m s-so sor-”

“Tell me you’re sorry one more fucking time and I’m gonna throw you through that window!” Her hands move frantically, beating her voice to the words. “I don’t care that you’re sorry. You’re always sorry, May! You’re always sorry and I always forgive you, that’s how our relationship worked! Every damn fucking time!”

“I know.”

“No, you don't k-know!” Her voice breaks, the wall she’s built around my memories with her shattering and the dam flooding her mind. I want to hold her, I want to drag her into my arms and make this better, but even when I take a step closer to her she takes two back, throwing her arms out to stop me. “Do you know what it was like for me? Landing in London, supposed to be starting my life, but every fucking night just sitting in that apartment w-window waiting for a phone call to say he'd fucking k-killed you! I was calling, calling and fucking calling, message after message, driving Craig insane pacing the floors at three in the morning until I had to come and get you... Only for you to pick him! Everything, everything we’ve been through, every promise we’d made, and you picked him!”

“I picked you!” Tears drench my face, almost as many as hers. I’d never pick him over her, I’d never pick anyone over her. “I begged you to leave, begged you to save yourself because it was too fucking late for me, but you wouldn’t listen! They had all those g-guns pointed at your h-head... I couldn’t... I-I... I didn’t have a choice, I had to do it that way so you’d leave! By the time you got there he was controlling-”

“And what about before that?!” She screams, grabbing her chest as the pain smashes her heart. “What about after the first time he c-choked you? The first time he h-hit you?! You picked him long before that fucking day, May! I pleaded with you to come to London with me the s-second I landed in Italy the first time, you could’ve left, he didn't have his claws in you yet, but you fucking chose to stay with him!”

“Hope, I know I should’ve left with-” I’ve never seen Hope hit anything, but frustration bubbles over in her, until her fist smashes straight into my wall. “Hope!” Fuck!

Blood trickles from her knuckles, her thumb hanging out of the socket. Hope hates pain, her thumb has been able to dislocate easily from the moment Eli had to break it, but she's looking at me like she can't even feel it.

I grab a clean shirt off the pile on the couch, running to wrap it around her hand, but she shoves it into my chest hard enough to send me flying backwards.

“Don't you dare fucking touch me!”

“Please, just let me help-”

“No!” She grabs her thumb, snapping it straight back into the socket like it’s nothing, tears streaming from her eyes but they’re completely dead. She won’t even let herself feel this. “Do you remember when we were in the hospital after you stabbed Diego? I was so scared, I was so scared that even Craig couldn’t help me! You were laying right there in the b-bed, and you promised me that this was it, that you'd never ever let anyone hurt me again!”

“I-”

“You promised you’d never be around someone dangerous like that again, around a murdering fucking psychopath!” She’s right, I did. “But the moment you found another one with a pretty face, you didn’t give a fuck! Same May, blowing the world up around her and dancing in the pieces, not caring who gets killed by the shrapnel! Jordano, Diego, the same fucking story! The same murderous little rapist cunts that you were happy to feed me to as long as you got what you wanted!”

It’s hard to hear someone talk about Diego like this, in the end who we thought he was, was so far from who he was meant to be. I don’t think she’ll ever accept that, the monster she sees him as will never leave her.