So simple and straightforward. There is no hesitation, meaning he is not lying.
Fantastic, right? But, so where is the part where he met with Grace, huh? I am not to know that. "Ooh,” I fix my eyes again as he adds, “and yeah, I passed your shop because I had a favor to ask from Grace."
It is like he read my mind. I breathe out a sigh and relax a little, but I can't fully relax.
What is with all the rounds? "Why the police station? And why didn't you tell me you meeting Grace? What did you want from her?"
He arches an eyebrow. "Are you interrogating me?"
Not really. Ooh, wait. I freaking am, and I have the right to. "I believe I have all the to. Don't I?" I retort.
"Why?” He cocks his neck to the side, taking a step closer to me. “Because you doubt ? Where did you think I went, Ellie?" He implores, his dark orbs drilling through as if he already sees the truth in mine.
"My thoughts aren't important. Just answer my damn questions," I retort. I know I like a suspicious, controlling bitch, but he will have to understand me today.
He wiggles his head slightly, spreading a smile that does not come out so well. "Ooh, are! I want to know what my fiancé thinks of me. Explain this attitude and this!"
He points to the floor—the pieces of my phone, to be precise.
Why is he turning the tables on me when it is he who is acting weird and secretive?
He left me just here, and that is exactly where he found me. While him? Why couldn't take me with him on his tour, huh? He even had time to visit the police station.
Sigh!
"Just answer me, Damian?" I scoff.
"Not like this. Not until you tell me why you look like a bomb ready to explode. And ? Since when did you start venting your anger out like this?" He asks, worry over his features.
"Since a bitch strode in here to stroke my face with the rubbish, Damian Almeda does do the love shit! You will soon dump me like you have done to millions of bitches when you are tired of fucking them, and then you will go back to her,” I parrot, the anger boiling in me.
All this while, I didn’t even know that was the root cause of all this heat radiating within me. I thought it was a combo of everything that has happened today. But
I was wrong. It is the thought of him screwing some other bitch. The fear of losing .
That beastly look on his surfaces. His eyes are about to turn black with darkness.
"You know what? I think you should start your explanations from there—with her.
What is with you and this reception whore?" I stand before him, challenging him to out the truth. Nothing but the truth, however much it will. I will accept it.
"She was my constant choice whenever I needed a toy to quench my desires because , my supposed fiance wasn't there to tend to my desires," he roars, taking aback by how that came off.
A toy, huh? And he howls it with so much bitterness and arrogance?
"Toys are quite cheap and affordable for a man like you. How many did you have?" I .
"I don't know! Ten, twenty, thirty... I just don't fucking know!"
"Don't you dare yell at me as if I were any of those bitches, nor that fiance of yours didn't care about you, Damian!" I squeal back, and he closes his eyes for a .
He can't even count how many women he has been with. Good grief! What was he? A ? Yes, because, for the sake of what he makes me feel, I want to believe he longer is. That is his part that I don't have to worry about. And my question was and clear. I don’t understand why he is growling at me, like I don’t have any to question him.
He shuts his eyes for a fleeting second, heaving out a deep sigh. "I am sorry!" He as he peels his eyes. He better be, because I detest yelling. I hate noise. It makes ears itch! "I am sorry." He adds.
Better. So we can continue in peace now. "So, she was? No longer is? Since when?" I calmly, tossing his apologies aside for now.
"Since I met you,” his voice is low and deep, his gaze on mine filled with remorse.
“You transformed me, and all the bitterness and hostility I had towards women melted.
I am with no one but you, and no one is a threat to you because I made a promise to one. There were no strings attached to any of them, and I always made that clear to of them. You are, have been, my only one."
Should I feel like number one for that? Should I clap for him? Hug him? Kiss him? Or spread my legs and coax him for a good fuck as a show of gratitude? Goodness!
He made it clear to all of them, my foot! So why is there a screwed-up bitch who feels is better than all of them and even me? Why is there a bitch still waiting for him go back to her?
"So, because of a worthless girl who didn't reciprocate your feelings or whatever you had, you decided to screw all the bitches in the world? Who does that, Damian?
What kind of man are you?" I ask.
"I am the kind of idiot who didn't have the patience to wait and see what fate had for me. I was the jerk who believed that by just fucking all those women, I be satisfied and stop feeling the anger and resentments I felt. But I was wrong.
I am not proud of my past. And I am sorry if I realized it too late.” He takes my hands, them in his. "What can I do, Ellie? I have tried as much as I can to be for you and myself. I have stains, yes, but I am all different now because of us.
I can't go back and rewrite the past. Will you condemn me and throw away this thing we have because of my past?"