His words bring me back to my senses, a reminder of the dumb ass hickey on his neck and the fight last week over Renee…. the bitch Charmaine in class all up in Elisa’s face, and a million other times he has subjected me to feel like women are just objects he discards.
Used and abused.
He goes through them like toilet paper.
I push him off with a little fire ignited inside.
“Don’t even… I have seen you make plenty of girls cry, and you don’t seem to care either way. So don’t get all…. crying makes me uncomfy, Kales…. because I think you're an asshole that gets off on girl’s crying.” I slap him in the chest with a weak hand separating us and then burst into a second bout of tears that makes no sense to me, but I have zero control over them.
“Ummmm…. yeah, totally different scenario. I don’t, but… go on and for the record…. those girls aren’t you.” He lifts his hand defensively and backs off further when I scoop to pick up a cushion and sway it at his face.