Page 121 of Severed Heart

She doesn’t so much as acknowledge me as she tightens her robe. Dread courses through me at the sight of the gesture as I trace her every movement. After dispersing her ritual powdered pain reliever on her tongue, she uncharacteristically washes it down with vodka.

“Hey,” I whisper, “you don’t drink in the mornings and have nothing to feel guilty for. Come on, don’t start today this way. Talk to me.”

As if in contempt, she unscrews her bottle and takes an overly numbing sip, not bothering to spare me a glance before I rip it away. She doesn’t react at all when some of the liquor spills between us before she turns and pours some coffee. Snatching the bottle from the counter where I just deposited it, she free-pours it in.

“Damn it, stop numbing and talk to me.”

When she refuses to look at me, my patience starts to wear thin.

“All right, fuck, so if you’re going to try to do this, you’re going to look me in the eye and fucking do itsober.”

Nostrils flaring, she finally lifts her eyes to mine. Void, vacant, no emotion to be found. By the glazed look, it seems she’s already well over a few drinks in.

Fuck.

Hold steady, Jennings—first battle of many.

Her words come out low and laced with ire. “You insult me sogravelylast night and have the nerve to behave as if you are insulted?”

“What?” I furrow my brows.

Coffee in one hand, she opens the junk drawer next to her and pulls out a piece of paper before thrusting it toward me. I take it to see that it’s an invoice for the ceiling repair. I sink where I stand as the guilt for my assumption resurfaces.

“I’m—”

“He forgot to leave the invoice after patching my ceiling. I was already in my robe, ready to take a bath, when he knocked.” It’s then that dread covers me as her glare turns accusatory. “But what do you assume when you see a man in my driveway? You assumed Ifucked arepair man just to prove a point to you?”

“Delphine, I’m sorry, I am. I—”

“I give you my trust and friendship, and you drew that conclusion so easily with your jealous fucking love.”

“Jesus.” I palm the counter, ducking to keep her eyes when she lowers them. “I thought we were okay.”

“You thought wrong, Soldier. Did you once offer arealapology?”

“No.” I palm the back of my neck. “But I’ll beg for your forgiveness now. I was in a really bad state last night. A fucked headspace before I got here. I had just run into my dad’s mistress—”

“Sounds familiar.” She tilts her head.

“Don’t,” I snap in warning. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Why not? This is a pattern I know very well. That is how it started with Alain. First, it was a declaration of devotion to win my heart and trust. Of how he loved me. That his dreams were my own. It was a living dream until he started to get in his moods.” She opens the drawer next to her. “He was in a bad place mentally, too, when he slammed my hand in this drawer for palming Ormand’s shoulder when he made me laugh.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, taking a step toward her, reading just how volatile the situation is as she holds up a damning palm to stop me, lifting her chin while eyeing the table feet away. “He raped me after, on that table we play Battle on every night. Many times out of jealousy.”

“Jesus Christ,” I utter, my whole being tensing with the pain her admission causes as she casually sips her coffee.

“Do you know why I stay in this fucking house of horrors? Why I don’t fix the roof, scrub the floors, or make any effort to paint the walls blue to make it more like a true home? Because it’s not a home for me but a reminder thatlove is a fucking liar, a reminder to never believe that lie again.”

“Delphine, please.” I take another step forward, the need to surround her eating my insides.

“You ask me if I ever feel beautiful. Oui, Tyler, when my best friend purposely chooses to spend his free time with me. When he reaches for me in any way other than physical. When he listens, when he takes my words for value withoutfucking mewith his eyes. But you ruined that friendship with your demand for more. So, you are right. There is no going back. Our friendship is over.”

“Please don’t do this. We can work this out. I didn’t mean any of it. We were just okay—at least I thought we were, what the fuck happened?”

“Men have been looking at me the way you are since I was afucking child.This fucking face, this body, whatever men see, I have paid for it every day since I was a fucking baby. Matis saw it. The way they looked at me.”

I prepare myself for whatever is coming as dread fills me head to toe. She glances out of the window, speaking as if we’re chatting about the weather, even as she drops bombs.