Chapter 10

 

Rebecca

 

 

I couldn’t believe this was happening.

I couldn’t believe he was here.

The bastard.

He pinched his nose with his hand with a wince, and I mentally cursed at myself for not being strong enough to break it. The piece of shit was lucky he caught me off-guard.

“I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that,” he said lightly, checking his hand to see if there was any blood in it before looking at me. “Still, it’s great to see you.”

“Change it,” I demanded, my nostrils flaring as I ignored Michael and turned towards Chase instead, who had a shocked expression on his face. “Choose anyone, anything, except him.”

“Rebecca--,” Chase started.

“I am not working with him,” I said firmly.

“I can’t change it up, Rebecca. It’s already been decided, and you know there’s no one else available who’s within your league,” Chase explained.

“Then take me out of this assignment instead. I don’t want any part of it if he’s involved.”

“But they requested for you specifically!” Chase cried.

“I guess you’re going to have to change my partner then, huh?” I countered. Michael sighed with exasperation.

“Rebecca, would you just--,” he tried to say but I silenced him with the steeliest glare I could manage.

“You,” I pointed at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me. And you,” I pointed at Chase next. “Do something about this, or else!”

I trudged out of that office and slammed the door behind me, the force of it making the shelves beside the walls shake. I had so much rage welling inside me right now that I could probably level a whole building with my screams alone. It made me yearn to kill someone, preferably that blast from the past that chose to ruin my already peaceful life by coming back to it.

I went up to the roof and released my emotions there, screaming all of the pent up anger and frustration that bubbled up once those silvery eyes made contact with mine. This was all just fucked up.

Why? Why did he have to come back into my life now? Where was he when I needed him all those years ago? Why now, when I had already adapted to living without him?

The son of a bitch still looked the same, too! It’s been over nine years since we last saw each other, and the damn bastard barely looks any different!

His eyes were still the same mysterious silver that lured you in the longer you stared at them. His lips were still thick and red, and his left cheek was still dotted by that singular dimple that never seemed to disappear even when he wasn’t smiling. Despite the severity of his close-cropped hair, and the vow he was going to dye it a ‘normal’ shade, his hair was still a greyish-blonde.

He was still the old Michael, who walked out of the past, and barged into my present.

But even though the old Michael remained, the old Rebecca definitely didn’t.

“You’re still running for the highest place you can find whenever you’re emotional, I see,” I closed my eyes as I heard his voice coming from behind me. I sighed before turning around. “You haven’t changed a bit,” Michael commented.

“What are you doing here?” I muttered.

“My friend referred me here. He’s getting married soon, so he needed someone to fill in.” he answered.

“So you’ll be temporarily?” I asked, but he shook his head.

“It’s my turn to ask questions now,” he said.

“I don’t have anything to say to you about my life,” I replied. “I want you gone.”

“Rebecca, you can’t do this,” he urged. “You can’t make me leave just because you can’t stand the sight of me. Whatever happened between us, let’s keep it between the both of us. Let’s keep things professional.”

I looked at him with wide-eyed amazement and incredulity, shocked he could say such things to me after what he’d done. I stared at his face, noting the cold and emotionless mask he was wearing, and it made me bristle in anger once more.

I raised my fist to punch him again, but he caught my fist with his hand before it made contact. He opened his mouth to speak but I swung a left hook with my other hand and connected with his lips.

He let me go as he wobbled backwards from the impact, and I just stood there as my eyes started to pool with tears of anger, watching and waiting for him to get a grip on himself.

“How could you say that to me?” I whispered. “How do you have the gall to say that after all I’ve been through because of you?”

His eyes widened, and his cool exterior shed off, revealing how confused but guilty he felt at this moment.

“Did you know how much I suffered when you left? Did you even think about what it did to me when I found myself all alone because you disappeared without a word? Did you ever think about that, huh?”

“Rebecca, I--,” he started, but I was on a roll and I could not be stopped. I stepped towards him and started beating his chest with my fists.

“You killed me!” I bellowed. “You disappeared and it killed me! And then I lost--,” I couldn’t continue anymore and broke down, my teeth shaking as I tried to keep myself from sobbing out loud. I felt Michael’s arms wrap around me as we slid down to the floor, our legs tangling with each other as I continued to cry into his chest.

The whole time I cried, he kept rubbing my back and arms, and he said he was sorry. He was sorry he hurt me, sorry he went away, sorry he left without saying goodbye. If I had heard him say those words before, I would’ve been thrilled. I would’ve welcomed him with open arms, and let bygones be bygones.

But nine years was too long for me to keep waiting for those apologies.

Once I felt exhausted of all of my tears, I pushed myself off of him and stood up, wiping my face with my hands to get rid of the evidence that I had cried up a waterfall. He followed suit and looked at me worriedly, probably wondering if I had already finished my meltdown.

“Are you alr--,”

“I need some time to think,” I interrupted, and before he could say another word, I walked away from him.

I may have finished my meltdown, but I still felt too shitty for a proper conversation.

Damn it, I needed a drink.

 

***

 

“Are you really not going to take the job?” George asked, and I sighed as I adjusted the phone to my other ear. My search for liquor became a search for someone to vent my frustration on, and I ended up calling my very pregnant best friend on the phone, who was all too willing to lend me an ear as staying in bed was making her feel like a “soggy noodle”.

“I don’t know if I could, George,” I murmured. “I don’t know if I can stand to be with him in the same room, much less try to cooperate with him.”

“Well, what did happen all those years ago, anyway? Are those memories really too important for you not to let go of them? To let them define you?” she asked.

“I thought I was fine already,” I told her. “I thought that after everything happened, I was strong enough now to deal with whatever came my way. But as soon as he pops up all my hard work came crumbling down.”

“Then are you just going to give up?” she asked. “Are you going to let him win?”

I couldn’t say anything to that, and I heard her sigh.

“Listen, Rebecca,” she said softly. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but to be honest, I don’t know much about your life before we met. I don’t know what went on in your life to make you hate this guy so badly. Won’t you tell me? Maybe then I would understand,” she pleaded.

I mulled the thought over for a while and realized she was right. George was my best friend, and she deserved to know about this part of my life, especially when my past was part of the reason why I was so short with her with regards to her pregnancy.

“Okay,” I finally said. “But I warn you: it’s not going to be pretty.”