Page 141 of True Blue

I groaned and bit my fist when she walked out of the hotel in that dress. Fucking hell—that beautiful black dress that showed her long back, her hair down and curled. She looked dressed to kill—me in particular. A happy death. Then my heart jolted when I saw the necklace, my Pop’s ring on it, next to the moonstone I bought her.

My chest burned when I saw that I wasn’t the only one appreciating her, too. Men and women’s heads turned as she walked by, as if a goddess had just appeared in front of them from the heavens. Tall, long, blonde, beautiful.

My Indie, my honey.

I deserved the torment. And then some. Because I knew exactly what I had when I had it, and I still failed to protect her.

I sat outside the theater, and when she walked out, she made my breath catch. Her beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed, but her smile was pure happiness.

And that made me feel ten feet tall.

I put that smile on her face. I did something good for her and only her.

At the lounge, I followed her just to make sure she was okay. It was in a crowded area, people all around drinking and celebrating, so I slipped in through the back and sat in a dim area where she wouldn’t see me.

Then watched as that blonde, pretty boy saw her, his eyes lighting up with interest and desire, and approached her at the bar. I wasn’t close enough to hear them speak, but I could see their faces reflected in the glass behind the bar, and I could see his eyes trail up and down her form.

They spoke casually, him leaning toward her, Indie not moving away. She smiled a few times, and he grinned back. It was like watching my own personal horror movie.

My heart was hammering in my chest, and my fingers dug into the table when he said something that took Indie by surprise. She paused and turned, looking at him, eyes trailing over his face, studying him.

And then he leaned in slowly, toward her perfect face.

My blunt nails scratched against the wooden surface.

“Please, no, no, no, no, no,” I whispered, begging, unable to look away. “Please, don’t.”

Then he pressed his lips to hers.

And she let him.

My Indie was kissing someone else.

I knocked over my water glass, sending it crashing to the floor as I rushed to the bathroom, where I violently vomited into the toilet. I retched until there was nothing left, tears burning my eyes. The scene replayed relentlessly in my mind.

Indie kissing him.

Him kissing Indie.

Following that, every single moment when I could have chosen Indie replayed in my mind like a taunting loop.

Every moment of disrespect I allowed from my mother, my aunts, Lily, and Colleen. Every single moment that culminated in me being single, watching my Indie with someone else. First Petra, now this blond pretty boy. The images in my head cause a sob to tear from my throat.

Indie with some faceless person in New Jersey, holding her, loving her, bringing her meals, rubbing her head after she’s had a long day at the Cancer Center, their head between her thighs, worshipping her the way she deserves, her head thrown back as she moans out their name, not mine. Not mine ever again.

When my stomach stopped rebelling, I flushed the toilet, stood up, and walked to the sink. I stared at my reflection as I washed my hands—my eyes red, tear tracks on my cheeks, my skin pale underneath the harsh bathroom light.

Rage erupted in my chest.

“You’ve got no fucking right to be hurt,” I snarled at myself. “You pushed her away. You had her—you fucking had her, and you threw her away. You don’t get to act hurt now, you stupid fuck.”

All I could see was every single moment I let Indie be disrespected. Every single moment that my mother verbally jabbed at Indie, who just took it because of me. I didn’t set boundaries, I didn’t stand up for her, and I didn't do enough. Not when it mattered.

“And it’s easy to say, but you don’t exactly have a family to test that theory!”

My hands gripped the sink, and I tried to breathe through the new waves of nausea that statement brought. I can’t believe I said that to her. The meanest, cruelest words I could say, and I knew they would hurt her. Because I felt backed into a corner, completely exposed, because she called me out on my bullshit.

I wanted everything with Indie.