And at that statement, my logic was gone. “Hey!” I shout, “Shut up. I didn’t force myself on you. You wanted it and don’t tell me that you didn’t!”

“I was trying to sleep and you came home, drunk off your ass and kept going at it after I told you to leave me alone,” she replies as she turns her back once more and walks out into the living room.

I can feel the heat building up inside of me again as I race out the door. I grab a hold of her shoulders and spin her around. “You were moaning. And you got wet. Ok? So don’t fucking tell me that I forced myself on you. You have no idea what that even means. You enjoyed it, and don’t tell me that you didn’t.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks in a low, dry voice, “Spencer, what’s happening to you?”

I know people always say that they can tell something by looking in a persons eyes. As lame and corny as that sounds, it’s true. Usually when I look into Ashley’s eyes I see hope, happiness, excitement…sometimes fear and sometimes anger (but most of the time not at me). No, this time, I didn’t see any of that. I stare into her brown eyes and I see something that I never want to see again. It’s pain….it’s confusion….it’s complete and utter sadness.

What the fuck have I done?

“I love you,” I tell her, looking down at the floor.

“Spencer,” she sighs as she takes a hold of my face. She is so close, so I know she can definitely see the tears that are forming. Her soft hands are caressing my face. I reach my arms out and grab onto her shoulders as I pull her closer.

“Ashley,” I say this, burying my head in her shirt.

I am slowly collapsing…literally. I start off by burying my head in her shirt, but I work my way down. I am falling closer to the ground as I grab onto her waist, then her legs, and then I really hit the bottom with a bang. Of course, being the wonderful girl she is, she falls with me.