Page 77 of Demo
When I didn’t look at him, he shouted, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, LIZZIE?!” It made me jump.
Biting the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t cry, I snapped at him. “Oh, come on, Knox. Don’t tell me you aren’t relieved!”
He let out a guttural sound and tore at his hair with both hands. “How can you fucking say that?!”
The tears I tried to hold at bay fell freely. “Look, Knox. I so appreciate you wanted to do the right thing. And if this hadn’t happened, we probably could have been happy. But, well, it’s over, and that’s OK. It was never meant to be. We can both go back to our lives.”
Eyes red-rimmed, cheeks flushed, mouth gaping, Knox rubbed his fist over his chest. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. “Lizzie, what are you doing to me? Why are you doing this?”
Unable to look at him, I scrambled into the bathroom so full of steam, I could barely see in front of my face, and I slammed the door behind me. With the air so thick, it was nearly impossible for me to gulp in air. Silently, I choked on my sobs. I heaved them without making a sound. Shoulders shaking, stomach caving in on itself, I curled in, grabbing my core, and sunk down the door.
“Lizzie,” I heard Knox’s voice, faintly, calmly, on the other side. “Baby, open up. I’m not leaving here until you open up.”
Don’t do this, Knox. Just go. Don’t make me do this.
“I need you to open this door. Look me in the eyes.” I heard him sniff and a crater opened up in my chest. “Is this it? Are we over?”
My hands clenched in fists as I doubled over myself, I choked on silent sobs as the tears swept my face. Snot dripping down my upper lip.
Just leave, Knox. Don’t make me say it.
“I love you, Lizzie,” I heard his voice right at the level I was at, which meant he was squatting down where he knew I had settled on the floor. “If you’re going to honestly say you don’t want to be with me anymore, at least open up the door and tell me. Let me look at you one last time.”
Gutted, with nothing left but a hope if I crushed him with one final blow we could both one day walk away from the damage, I pulled myself off the floor, wiped my tears and snot with my bare hands, and opened the door.
Knox shot up from his crouch and his face fell when he saw me. “Lizzie—”
“I don’t love you, Knox,” I looked him right in the eye as I slaughtered him. “I’m sorry. I loved the idea of us being a family, but it’s over.”
Tears slid down both sides of his face, which he tried to wipe away on his shoulders. “Damn,” he said, eerily calm. “People say this hurts, but you really have no idea until it happens.” Then looking at me, into me, through me, he said, in the most mournful, broken voice. “I just lost my entire family, my entire future, in one night.”
Letting a sob escape, I raised a hand to reach out to him but stopped myself. “Knox, I never—”
Without warning, he stormed me, took my face in his hands, and seared me with his eyes. “I’m all in,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ll be here. Right where you’ve left me. Whenever you decide to come back to me, I’ll be here waiting for you. Always.” Chasing away my tears with his thumbs, he brushed the sweetest, softest kiss across my lips, then let go of me and stormed out of my apartment.
And I let the pain swallow me whole as I fell to the floor.
I just lost my family, too.
Chapter 21
LYZBETH
I’mattheofficetyping up my notes when Monty pushes away from his desk and stands. “I’m gonna grab a cup of coffee from next door. Don’t feel like brewing any here. Want anything?” he asks.
I pick up the mug I filled earlier and glance in, seeing it half full. “Nah, I’ll just nuke this.”
“That’s disgusting,” he says as he walks past me. “Be back in five!”
About ninety seconds later I hear the door open again.
“Forget your wallet?” I ask as I turn to see two officers entering. Deputy Clark saunters in, thumbs hooked through his belt loops as he casually looks around, whistling, and Sgt. Henderson is right beside him, eyes cast downward.
I slowly rise from my seat, grab my coffee cup, and make my way past the cubicles toward the kitchenette. As I stick the cup in the microwave, I address the officers over my shoulder.
“This is an unexpected visit,” I turn and lean against the counter as my coffee warms, my hands gripping the cheap Formica countertop.
Neither answers right away. Henderson stands by the doorway, shuffling his feet, arms across his chest as he continues staring at the ground.
