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Bette’s House – Bette’s POV
“For what it’s worth,” She began, her voice cracking, “I think I’m falling for you.”
And with that, she walked out of my house. I closed my eyes, willing the tears not to fall. But I failed. I hurried towards the door and reached for the knob. It was in my hand, all it took was one twist and this could all be over with.
But I couldn’t bring myself to open it. Instead, I rested my forehead against the door and stroked the painted wood with my other hand.
I flipped the porch light switch and all the other lights still powered on in my living room before doing the same in the kitchen.
When I reached the hallway, I looked out the big front window from the security of the darkness that filled my house in time to see Tina’s BMW start up and zoom away from my front curb.
As my tears slipped down my face, my body involuntarily responded to the emotional impact that watching my girlfriend drive away had on me. I punched the hallway wall as hard as I could with my right fist.
“Fuck!” I cried. My hand was no match for the drywall and I only succeeded in further hurting myself, only this time, physically. It didn’t bleed, nor was it broken, but if it had done either, I wouldn’t have cared.
I entered my room, exhausted from the night’s revelation.
Stripping my clothes off in an impatient huff, I fell on top of the bed I had last shared with Tina. I didn’t bother to get under the covers. I was hot with emotion, so the warmth was unnecessary.
Tina’s parting words played over and over in my head. Can it be true? Isn’t it too early for either one of us to fall in love? We just started seeing each other on Saturday; just confirmed being together last night. This is crazy, right?
But why was I feeling so torn up about her going behind my back? Because it was wrong, Porter, that’s why. How can I trust her if this is how it starts?
I mean, I realize that it wasn’t her fault she hadn’t told me about what she did for a living before Friday. I took that lump, and started making up for being an ass, but this time…this time she intentionally kept this information from me. She intentionally wanted me not to find out about it.