apartment, blood trickling from my nose, a cocktail of anger, hurt, and, strangely, pride swirling inside me. Yeah, the irony isn’t lost on me. I’m actually proud of Eva’s strength, her ability to throw me off, physically and metaphorically. It’s a testament to the fighter she is, a quality I’ve always admired, even when it’s used against me.
The place is empty, luckily. I’m not in the mood for twenty questions from the guys or for them to see me like this, beaten down and pissed off.
As I head to the bathroom, Eva’s defiance replays in my mind. She changed the tattoo—our tattoo. It was supposed to be a symbol of us, of her being mine. But she’s trying to erase it, to erase us. How dare she try to obliterate the history, the connection, everything we were and still are, and everything I know we will be? She’s trying to scrub away our past, but erasing our history isn’t that simple. We’re not done, not by a long shot.
I splash cold water on my face to clean the blood. The sting is a welcome distraction from what’s really eating at me. Seeing my reflection, the evidence of tonight’s clash with Eva, is almost comical. She’s always been fiery, but now she’s pushing back harder than ever. It’s infuriating, and yet, it ignites something in me, a grudging respect mixed with an intense desire.
Deep down, I know it’s more than just a phase or some failed prom revenge. She is not fickle or dramatic, and she laughed off that theory. I sit on the tub’s edge, head in hands. I wanted to stir something up in her, ignite some old spark. Instead, all I got was a stronger pushback.
There’s a part of me, a dark, twisted part, that relishes the challenge. I’ve always loved her fire, her spirit. Yet now, it’s like she’s using it against me, I can’t help but want her more. She’s not the Eva I knew, and that’s both infuriating and incredibly attractive.
Getting up, I look back at my reflection – the determination to claim back what’s mine plain on my face. There’s a need to strategize, to figure out how to reconnect with this new version of Eva. She might think she’s erased me from her past, but we’re intertwined in ways deeper than she acknowledges.
Lying in bed, I can’t sleep. My mind’s a mess – anger, desire, memories, and a whole lot of confusion about the future. Eva might think she’s pushed me away, but I know better. We’re bound together in ways she can’t even begin to understand.
I want her to remember the man she once looked at like he was her Prince Charming. That guy is still here, underneath it all. There’s a misunderstanding between us, something I can’t fully grasp. But giving up on her? Not happening.
She’s under my skin, a part of me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of that. I might have messed up tonight, but this isn’t the end. It’s just another twist in our story; a story that I’m determined to continue, no matter what it takes. We’re not done, not even close.
Waking up feels like a drag. With barely any sleep, my eyes feel heavy, my body aches, and my mood? Let’s just say it’s on the wrong side of cranky. I trudge downstairs, each step a reminder of last night’s fiasco.
Ethan and Liam are already up, engaged in some low-key conversation. They both look up as I enter, and Liam’s expression shifts to something like disapproval. Great, just what I need.
“What’s with your face?” Liam asks bluntly.
Rolling my eyes, I retort, “Wow, harsh, dude. Do you hear me talk about your ugly face?”
Liam snorts, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ugly? Bro, I’m stunning, and we both know that.”
A short, reluctant laugh escapes me despite the circumstances. Trust Liam to be full of himself, even at times like this. It’s oddly comforting, a slice of normalcy in the whirlwind that’s become my life.
Slumping into a chair, I rub the bridge of my nose wearily.
Liam’s eyebrow arches, his usual nonchalant attitude taking a back seat to a more paternal concern. “Seriously, mate, you look like hell. What happened?”
Hesitation creeps in, weighing how much to divulge. They’re my friends, sure, but this situation with Eva… it’s a mess, and frankly, I’m not up for Liam’s “perfect man” lecture right now.
Settling on a half-truth, I exhale softly. “Let’s just say I had a… disagreement,” the response remains intentionally vague.
Ethan looks at me, skeptical. “A disagreement that left you with a bloody nose and a black eye?”
“You should see the other guy,” I quip, attempting a weak joke.
Liam rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Col—”
Cutting him off, I change the subject. “What were you ladies gossiping about?”
“Ethan’s decided to help Poppy channel her anger by buying her and her friends a session in a rage room,” Liam says, his tone surprisingly approving.
A rage room. The irony isn’t lost on me. I helped Eva do just that last night, using my face as a punching bag.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Liam continues, and both Ethan and I shoot him a surprised look. Liam’s not the type to meddle in people’s business, so this is a step into unfamiliar territory for him.
My brain, sluggish from lack of sleep and the throbbing in my head, slowly pieces things together. “All three of them?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but the interest is there, lurking beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” Ethan confirms, nodding. “Poppy, Nessa, and your Eva.”
A noncommittal grunt slips out, but inside, my mind races. Poppy and Nessa are fiery on their own, but adding Eva to that mix? That’s a volatile cocktail of emotions and pent-up frustrations.
Liam seems to read my thoughts. “It’s a controlled environment. Better they smash some plates in a rage room than…”
Let their anger out on us. I silently complete his sentence. He’s right, though. Better they find some release in a controlled setting than let things escalate further.
Leaning back, my thoughts begin drifting off. The idea of Eva unleashing her fury on inanimate objects rather than me brings a grim sort of comfort. Maybe it’s what she needs—a way to vent all that anger without any collateral damage.
“Maybe it’ll be good for them,” I finally say, more to myself than to the others. “A safe way to let off steam.”
Ethan starts, “Liam and I will be there, just in case—”
“I’m joining too,” the words rush out before I can stop them. Maybe, just maybe, if Eva’s guard is down, I can start to understand why she hates me so much. I admit, what I did at prom was low, cruel even, but I know my Eva. She is an infinite well of forgiveness. Right now, I’m probably pushing it, but I’m determined to make up for it in the future. I just need her to give me a chance.
Liam gives Ethan a knowing look, one that says, “I told you so,” and Ethan visibly winces at my determination.
Ethan tries to interject, “Cole, listen—”
“No, I won’t listen,” I shoot back, standing up abruptly, feeling a sharp pain in my head. “What right do you have to go and not me? And don’t give me that ‘Eva can’t stand you’ line. It’s not like Curly’s thrilled with your company either.”
Ethan throws Liam a helpless look. In response, Liam raises his hand in surrender. He’s a smart man, knowing when to give up because I’m as stubborn as they come, especially where Eva is concerned.
Ethan tries to reason with me, “Cole, she deliberately avoided the party last night to not see you. That should tell you something.”
I clench my jaw in frustration. That moment is etched in my memory. Standing there with my friends, anticipation coursing through me, eagerly awaiting Eva’s arrival. The thought of seeing her descend from the car, radiant in her ball gown, was like a do-over. It was a chance for redemption, a sliver of hope to mend what I’d broken.
However, she wasn’t there. The initial surge of annoyance quickly gave way to a deeper, more agonizing realization. I felt the sting of rejection, a raw, pulsating pain that seemed to turn my insides bitter, a metallic taste of disappointment lingering on my tongue.
At that moment, a heavy thought hits me. Was this how Eva felt at prom? Left alone, all her hopes crashing down? It’s a bitter irony, this same kind of pain now weighing on me.
I straighten up, my tone leaving no room for debate. “If Eva doesn’t want me around, she can say it to my face. Until then, I’m not backing off. That’s final.”
Ethan lets out a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Cole, man, why do you always have to push things to the limit?”
Responding with a simple shrug. “It’s not about being difficult. It’s about not backing down.” In my mind, it’s clear—it’s not just about me being stubborn. It’s about not giving up on Eva, on us.
I head upstairs, filled with an unshakeable resolve. I’m well aware of the walls Eva has put up, but I’m determined to be there when they finally come down. I’ll be there to catch her, to help her rebuild – but this time, from the inside, right there alongside her. That’s the future I’m fighting for.
