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★☆★☆★
I shook my head. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Why am I crazy? For wanting you? When am I gonna see you again?”
I sighed and dropped my hand from his. “I don’t know. I have to be out of these dorms by the end of June. I’m planning to move back home, near my parents and sister.”
Chris looked confused. “All the way up in Frisco?”
I giggled a little, as I hated that nickname people used. “No, I don’t live in San Francisco. But yes, the Bay Area.”
The frown etched deeper between his blue eyes and it made me sad. He looked genuinely sad, almost distraught, that I was moving. Why?
“How far is the drive?” he asked, his finger still brushing back and forth lightly over my knuckles.
I shrugged one shoulder, as if it didn’t matter. “About seven or eight hours, give or take.”
He looked contemplatively at me, as if trying to make a decision to say what was already about to tumble out of his lips. “We’ll make it work.”
Both of my light eyebrows lifted, probably all the way to my hairline. “Seriously? This can never work, Chris.”
Shock colored his face, and then sadness again. “But I want you, Miranda. All of you.”
A small tingle of anger began to creep up inside me. I tried to beat it down as I said, “But I can’t trust you. I want you, but I can’t.”
His light eyes gazed down at me, making me swallow back my own sadness. “What can I do to earn it back? Name it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I turned my head and looked at the door that would take me into the dorms, then back at him. “I need to go.”
“I know.” He nodded. “I’m going to call you tomorrow.”
I grinned. “I know you will.”
As I was packing the dorm, which didn’t take very long since it was so small, I couldn’t stop thinking about Chris. How was this gonna work? An eight-hour time distance is a big deal. Some people might say it’s not, but it is. There was something about my head that wasn’t completely playing in tune with what was in my heart. There were underlying doubts that continued to cloud my brain that I could stay with Chris. I hated that so much logic always interrupted my daydreams and fantasies. In a perfect world, he’d get out of the military, follow me up to the Bay Area, marry me, and give me 2.5 beautiful blue-eyed children. But in reality, I knew he had a couple more years of service left to give the Marine Corps, and after that – if and when he got out – he’d probably want to move back to Florida. And could I blame him? Not really. Not only was it home for him, Florida’s just all around awesome. Who wouldn’t want to live there? Especially if it was home.
I don’t know what compelled me to do it, but I literally stopped packing mid-box and looked around my dinky dorm room for my keys. I found them next to my small Dooney & Burke purse on my bed and headed downstairs. Getting into my little red Civic, I was almost on auto-pilot as I drove to Chris’s house. It was 2 o’clock on a Friday. I had no idea if he was at work today or what. The last time I’d heard from him was last night as he was getting off work, or duty, or whatever the hell they called it.
I parked on the street and left my purse in the car. Holding nothing but my keys and phone, I looked down and straightened my shorts and orange tank top and hoped he was home. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to see how he lived when he wasn’t expecting company. I wanted to talk to him about what we were gonna do when I moved. I just didn’t see how we could last, but a part of me wanted to try.
I saw his car and motorcycle parked in the driveway, along with another car I assumed was one of his roommates’ cars. I didn’t know his new roommates. The two he’d had when I first met him over a year ago had either moved away or been deployed.
I knew the doorbell was broken from the other times I’d been here, so I pulled the screen door open and went to knock, but as did, the door gave and creaked open. It had obviously not been closed all the way.
Confused, I opened it slightly and went to call out his name, or at least announce my presence so I didn’t scare him or one of his roommates when I heard giggling. Female giggling. I clamped my mouth shut with a click.
Crap! One of his roomies must have a girl over. I felt like a total dumbass for just walking in here. Instead of yelling out my presence, I decided I’d just high-tail it to Chris’s room so as to not interrupt anyone else.
I turned the knob to his room with a big smile on my face. I was kinda hoping he’d be asleep and I could just strip my clothes off and slide in beside him. The house was mildly hot but I could feel the air conditioning kick on as I pushed the door open.
A loud gasp I could not stop slid out of my mouth at the sight before me. Chris was as naked as the day he was born, up on his knees, both hands gripping the very naked backside of a woman whose face I couldn’t see, but whose ass I could very well see. His hips were rocking furiously, and at one point, I’m pretty sure he lifted one hand to smack her ass. The sound thundered throughout the quiet room. All I could smell was sex, and all I could see was red. Deep, dark, blood red. It clouded my eyes, until tears took over and misted me into practical blindness.
“You fucking bastard!” I screamed as I raged toward him. The woman, who had lifted her face out of Chris’s pillow – the one I’d fallen asleep on while inhaling his scent so many times – also gasped as I practically tackled Chris to the floor. No, it wasn’t ladylike. And yes, I did get some good practice in for kicking in doors and taking down suspects.
Chris yelled and quickly got back up, pushing me against the wall and grabbing both wrists and pinning them against my chest.
“Let me go, you dick!” I screamed.
“Who the hell is this?” the girl asked, throwing on Chris’s USMC T-shirt, which only pissed me off more.
“I’m his girlfriend, you whore!” I screamed at her.
“Who are you calling a whore?” She pointed at me.
I ignored her and looked at Chris, who looked at the girl and said, “Gina, just go.”
“Asshole,” she muttered. I watched as she pulled on her pants and grabbed her shirt and shoes, leaving in Chris’s shirt.
“Let me go,” I hissed through gritted teeth and cloudy vision.
He stared at me intently, then let me go, grabbing his shorts and putting them on. I took the opportunity to run to the door, but he caught me.
I swiped away the all too familiar tears and pushed him in the chest as he had hold of my arm. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you fucking touch me!”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he groveled.
I scoffed, “Seriously? That’s all you have to say for yourself? You have got to be kidding me...”
I turned around to leave again but he slammed the door shut. “I really do love you.”
I whirled around and slapped him on his stubbly cheek with everything I had. “The hell you do. Fuck you, Chris. You don’t love anyone but yourself. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Unfriend me. Unfollow me. Forget me. I hate you.”
The hurt in his eyes was palpable. The shock on his face and tremble of his hand was unmistakable. I let him open the door and I stormed through it.
As I squealed away from the curb, yet again in a flurry of tears and sobs that were jerking out of my chest, I couldn’t believe I was going through this again. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to open my heart to him again. He was such a bastard. He was such a cheating, piece of trash. I could never, ever trust him again. I would never trust any man again. I was wrecked, broken, and completely unraveled.
I was ruined.
I was done.