Dark Secrets (Dark Secrets #1)(160)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“No. I’m mad. I was so worried about you I nearly shook Emily when I asked her if she’d seen you.”

“What! You talked to my friends?” I smacked the stool with both hands. “Mike, how could you—now you’ve gone and made a huge drama out of thi—”

“No. Ara. You made the drama. You took off without leaving a note to say you hadn’t gone to school. You’ve been gone all bloody day!”

“Yeah, well, no one asked you to come looking for me.” I folded my arms. “I’m fine. I just lost track of time.”

“Well, that may be the case, but you’ve caused a lot of worry. People care about you, Ara—” He reached for me; I jerked away. “I care about you.”

“You? You don’t care about me. You just feel sorry for me. You just feel responsible for me, like you always have—”

“Ara? Don’t say things like that.”

“I didn’t say it!” I shot up off the stool and fled to the heavy curtains near the wall. “You did!”

“What? When?” He sat taller. “Ara, I would never say something like tha—”

“You did. The day I arrived here, when my dad made me speak to you on the phone. You said you were tired of being responsible for me, that I had to grow up, and if I wasn’t such a baby then none of this would’ve happened!”

Mike stood up, reaching for me. “Ara, that was not what I said and you know it. You’re adding words to what I—”

“Am I? Or is that what you wanted to say? Is that what you really meant, only you didn’t have the guts to say it?” I yelled across the stage, feeling rather well-placed for such a theatrical display of emotion.

“My exact words to you that day, and my exact meaning were, I feel responsible for what happened to your mum and Harry. And you said it was your fault, that if you hadn’t run away it wouldn’t’ve happened. That’s when I said that running away was a childish thing to do. And that was all I said, Ara. The fact is, I was responsible for you. I let you down. I did not say you caused this. I never said, felt, or meant that. You know that.”

“No. I don’t. I know the way you looked at me. I saw you look away when you first saw me after the accident; I remember how disgusted you were in me that night for daring to feel what I felt for you—”

“That’s what you think?” He briskly stepped forward and grabbed my arms. “That I was disgusted? In you? Ara, I was disgusted in myself for—”

“For telling me how you truly felt?” I shrugged out of his hands. “You shouldn’t be. Because that should be allowed. If you don’t love someone, you have a right to tell them.”

“But I do love you. You know that.” He swooped into me again.

“Don’t touch me!” I ducked out from under his arms and ran to the edge of the stage. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Ara. Please—”

I took a glance over my shoulder to see his bulky silhouette by the piano, reaching out to me, then jumped off the edge, bent my knees as I landed on the ground, and walked away with my arms folded.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Home.”

At a run, Mike’s footfalls fell down on the hollow-sounding floor, then stopped as a soft tap of shoes on carpet came up behind me. “Baby, talk to me. Please don’t be like this. I just want you to be happy.”

“Happy!” I spun around. “If you wanted me to be happy, then you’d never have told me you love me, Mike. Now I’m just confused and empty.”

Mike doubled back, dropping his hand to his side as the blade of my words hit his heart. “You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

“What would you know? You don’t know anything about me, Mike. Maybe you used to—in fact, no—scratch that. If you did, you’d never have rejected me like that.”

“Ara, I didn’t reject you. I just asked you to wait a second while I processed what was happening between us. You shook me up, girl. I wasn’t expecting you to throw your arms around my neck and kiss me.”

“Yeah, well—” I looked up at him, keeping my arms folded, “—it was a mistake. You and I. All of it. Nothing but a big, fat mistake. Now, it’s time I fix things—put them all back in the right place.”

“What are you saying?” He grabbed my wrist; I yanked it back.

“I’m saying, I. Love. David, Mike. Not you.” The lie came out through my lips like a hot breath; I couldn’t even gasp the words back in—they just fell out.

When Mike dropped his head, even the shadowed darkness did nothing to hide his pain. “So that’s it then?” His voice quaked. “You’re just going to throw it all away because of some boy you just met?”

“He’s not just some boy, Mike. He’s my one true love.”

Mike nodded, clenching his fists beside him. “You’re not a child anymore, Ara. It’s time you grew up. All this true love and fairy-tale bullshit!” His angered voice touched my nerves. “It’s not real. He is not your true love. He’s a random stepping stone, a fall back guy—a—a bloody infatuation.”

“Don’t say that word!” I screamed at him, clenching my fists. “I never want to hear that word. You don’t know. None of you know. You don’t have a clue what I feel—what I’ve gone through.”

“Tell me then, Ara—” He stepped closer. “Tell me, so I understand.”

I looked at him for a moment longer, swiping my shaking hand across my nose before I sunk to the ground, curling into a ball. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it anymore, Mike.”

He fell to his knees and wrapped me up in his arms. “What, baby?”

“I’m so tired. I’m so goddamn tired. I just can’t do it anymore.” It was all too much. I missed David like I needed air, like I couldn’t breathe anymore. Mike made it all feel better, made the air thinner, easier to take, but I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix how hurt I was that he pushed me away in the first place. I just couldn’t fix it.

“Ara. Baby, talk to me. Why are you shaking?”

“It’s all gone.” I closed my eyes tight. “It’s all—all of it. I don’t wanna do this anymore, Mike. I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

Mike took a deep breath, letting it out with a loud groan. “Look—I hurt you. I’m sorry for that, okay? But you don’t love him. Not like you love me.”