“Wow,” I say, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “You sure do have a run of bad luck when it comes to women.”
“Tell me fucking about it,” he growls. “I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. Away from you. You’re such a cunt, you know that?”
His words are a weapon he wields freely, but they don’t cut the way they used to.
“Your words can’t hurt me anymore, Timmy. I don’t care what you call me. I don’t care what you say. They’re powerless against me because I’ve heard them all before. They carry no weight. So go off—I couldn’t care less.”
His breathing grows heavier, his frustration palpable. He’s trying to bait me, to trigger a reactive episode he can point to later and say, ‘See?She’sthe problem.’
But I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Eventually, he slams the door as he leaves, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. I flinch involuntarily, the PTSD I’ve been working so hard to manage rearing its head once again.
Even in his absence, he finds a way to get under my skin.
I look at the sign on my nightstand—I will do everything in my power to protect my peace.
It feels more important now than ever. If I don’t protect my peace, who will?
Certainly not Timmy.
Certainly not his father.
And certainly not the other people who enable him, who dismiss my pain and my experiences.
I will protect the little of my peace that I have left.
And someday, I will find the rest again.
CHAPTER 123
DEARMAN
MARGAUX
Timmy’s words slice through the air, their cruelty hitting like dull blades designed to hurt but not kill.
“You’re a toxic, abusive cunt. You push my buttons just to make me upset. I ask you not to, because I don’t want to behave badly, but you push and push until you’re satisfied when I snap.”
He’d been punishing me with the silent treatment, sitting on the bed, facing away from me, for hours. The intention behind it was annoying, but I also enjoyed the silence. Clearly, he can’t hold his mean thoughts in any more.
I stare at him, incredulous. “That’s not how it is at all. Isn’t that exactly how you describe your ex?”
“She was like that, too.”
“Wow,” I say, crossing my arms. “You really have had an unlucky streak of ladies.”
“They like to take advantage of my kind nature,” he hisses. “Youincluded. You know I’m sensitive, and you get this sick satisfaction from seeing me fall apart. Youmakeme violent.”
“I’m pretty sure you were violent and rageful well before you met me,” I say, my voice steady but icy.
“Well, not this bad. You really bring it out in me.”
The audacity of his words pulls a bitter laugh from my throat. “Then leave, Timmy. If I make you so unhappy,please… just go.”
He lets out a cruel laugh. “Oh believe me, I would love to. But where would I go?”
I shrug, letting the weight of his situation fall where it belongs—on his shoulders. “It’s not my problem you’ve driven all your friends away. Go to your dad. I’m just so sick of you telling me how shit I am, despite evidence to the contrary. This isn’t fair, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”