In Love With My Bully-Chapter 123: Just For You

Sam didn’t answer right away. His eyes welled with tears, bitter ones that didn’t quite fall. "Chay... I would give anything to rewind time. Just for you. Only for you," he said. "I would do everything right. Just... to be with you."

She snorted softly, bitterly. "Well, there’s no rewind button, Dad. There’s just play. And unfortunately, I’m the one who has to keep watching the damn movie."

Sam reached across the table but she pulled back.

"I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he said, eyes locked to hers. "But I want you to know... I was proud. I am proud. Of who you are. Of how strong you are."

"I have to go, Dad," Chay said abruptly, her chair scraping across the floor as she rose, the metal-on-concrete sound almost as harsh as her voice.

"No... Chay... wait," Sam called out, reaching for her across the narrow metal table. But she was already turning away.

She couldn’t do this. Not right now. Maybe not ever again.

She walked briskly toward the exit, arms wrapped around herself. Her steps were sharp, each one a release of years of restraint she hadn’t even realized she was still holding onto.

She had spent so much of her life pretending that seeing her parents behind bars was normal. That she was fine. But the truth? She wasn’t fine. She had never been fine.

She was tired of being the girl with the tragic backstory. Tired of being looked at with pity, as if her whole existence was a charity case people signed up for when they were feeling particularly noble.

Now? She was done.

She wanted more from life. She wanted to be loved, without the baggage of her parents’ sins hanging over her.

And screw it. She was going to get it.

*****

When Drake finally arrived at his own house, Queen trailing behind him, his jaw was clenched so tightly it could have cracked diamonds.

He didn’t say anything all through the journey.

But the moment the door closed behind them with a soft, menacing click, Queen wasted no time sharpening her tongue.

"I have no idea what is wrong with you, and I’m not sure I even want to know," she snapped, tossing her purse onto the nearest chair.

Drake turned slowly, loosening his tie. "Of course. You don’t care about anyone. You don’t care about how I feel or how Chay feels."

The tie came off, slung over a chair.

Queen raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so we’re doing this? Really? The guilt trip? Because last I checked, I wasn’t the one spooning Chayara at her mother’s funeral."

"That wasn’t—!" Drake stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. "It wasn’t like that."

"Oh no?" Queen folded her arms, leaning against the wall. "Then please enlighten me, because from where I was standing, you were holding her like a man who wanted to do more than console her."

Drake groaned, pacing. "She was falling apart! What was I supposed to do, hand her tissues from a safe emotional distance? I was being a friend."

Queen’s laugh was hollow. "You were being her comfort zone, Drake. You always are. And I’m sick of pretending not to notice."

He stopped mid-pace and turned to face her. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Queen?"

"I don’t know," she said, suddenly quieter.

"You were being an obvious bitch, you know it, and now you want to turn it around like the world is against you?" Drake spat.

"What do you mean by that?" she said trembling at the edges.

Drake ran a hand through his hair again. "Not once," he began, "not once did you step forward to be there for someone I know would move the world for you. She was by your side, watching your six ever since I’ve known you both. And you just stood there, watching her grief like she meant nothing to you."

Queen scoffed, lips curling in disbelief. "What did you expect me to do, huh? Throw my arms around her? Tell her I’m so sorry that her mother, the woman who tried to kill mine, is dead? You know I have no time for hypocrisy, Drake."

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, trying to compress the guilt threatening to leak out of her ribs. "Besides," she added, bitterly, "she got all the you she could possibly have with her so-called grief."

Drake’s brow furrowed. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh stop acting coy! You say you love me, but every time you’re around Chay, you turn into some love-struck puppy who would hand her the world if she merely bat her damn eyelashes."

"Wow," he said slowly. "That’s what you think of me?"

"No," Queen snapped. "That’s what you show me. You think I don’t notice how your tone changes around her? How you smile with your eyes when she speaks? Like she’s this shiny little dream you keep in your pocket for rainy days."

"You both have been my friend since high school. Of course, I would do anything for both of you! I married you on a whim, remember? To save you from the grave mistake of marrying your cheating ex!" Drake shouted, his hands flying up.

Queen stood still in the center of the room, hands clenched at her sides, her breathing shallow but furious.

"I didn’t ask you to," she snapped. "You chose to marry me."

Her eyes were locked onto his.

Drake’s laugh was short, bitter. "Because you needed help. Saving you from your own self!" He jabbed a finger toward her. "But I see now that was a mistake!" freēwēbηovel.c૦m

"A mistake?"

The moment the word slipped from his mouth, Drake knew.

He had gone too far.

His breath caught in his throat. "Queen," he said, softer now, regret already forming in his eyes. He took a small step forward. One step too late.

"A mistake because I am not some damsel in distress?" she demanded. "Because I do not need the help of any man? Grow some balls, Drake, and admit the truth."

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