Page 34 of Misguided

“I can’t give you more if you won’t let me.” What the fuck am I saying? Who is this guy?

“I don’t know if you have the ability to be more.”

The guy whose ego lies flailing on the floor with a knife to its heart after that little statement—that’s who this guy is.

“Ouch, babe.”

She sighs, her hand snaking under the covers until she connects with my arm. Slender fingers wrap around my wrist, and she holds tight as she speaks only the truth. “What have you given me that proves you’re anything other than Dog, the party boy who prides himself on living life without giving a fuck for the consequences? Huh? I’m sorry if I hurt you, but it’s the truth.”

Yeah, it is. Right when I want it the least.

“Give me a chance?” I’ve never begged a woman before, but shit, I’ve also never had one inhabit every free space between my thoughts like this.

“Give it time,” she counters, her hand slipping away. “It’s day one in a life that’s nothing like I left it, Dog. Let’s get past the initial shock before we start making decisions, huh?”

“Yeah, okay.” I roll to my other side, giving her my back and effectively sulking as the truth of her words sinks deep.

She’s so right that it makes me want to smash the fuck out of something, preferably myself for making my new persona such a detached asshole. Didn’t think of that when I sauntered in here with all intentions of building a lie that didn’t rely on anyone but myself to get by, did I?

I settle in, rearranging my pillow and tucking one knee up, shuffling forward until I know I’m on the edge of the mattress. Less chance I bump into her by accident, less chance I’ll lose control and fucking prove to this bitch that I can be everything she thinks I’m not and more.