“Fuck this!” he cussed.
“What are we doing here, Will?”
“What does this mean?”
“Who am I to you?”
The questions assaulted me in sharp spears of pain that penetrated my defences. I watched as he hurled them, deliberately.
He knelt beside me as I sat, unmoving, on the couch.
“I said ‘I love you’,” he repeated; anguish embedded in his voice.
I smiled at him, frustration mounting in the form of tears in my eyes.
“That’s not good enough,” he whispered
He looked away, hands dropping to his si