Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

Marianne went completely still. He couldn’t handle her anymore. How could he do this, practically out of the blue? How could he be so mean as to say it like that? “How can you say that?”

“Easy.”

“Wow,” she said, reeling. Shocked at him. It was just so mean. So totally outside what she’d thought he was capable of. “I kind of despise you right now.”

Patrick almost laughed. “You’re the one who despises me?”

Marianne blinked. Patrick despised her? Yesterday, an hour ago, she wouldn’t have thought there was any way he could have said those words that would make her believe he really meant them. But now… Maybe it was because she’d met Brook in person—the stories that he’d told her about his behavior seemed real now. Maybe it was because she could see in his eyes that he was dead serious. Maybe it was just that she knew so deeply that she deserved those words.

Whatever the reason, she believed him. Patrick despised her.

She’d felt like a paranoid psycho since the moment they’d met—waiting for this moment—and now here it was. Exactly what she’d expected to happen from the beginning. Patrick had finally come to despise her—and the really sad part was that he didn’t know half of the reasons why he should. But he knew enough. “Yeah,” she said, answering his question, channeling her hurt into anger and trying to keep the tears out of her voice. “Sometimes I do despise you. I feel like crap all the time because I know what’s in your head. I know it.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’ve been able to see it coming since the moment we met.” She looked right into his eyes. “It’s what I’m seeing now. I try to ignore it but it doesn’t work. I see how you look at me sometimes, and I just… I’m so done with feeling this way.”

He looked away. “Well, that makes two of us.”

“Great,” she said. “I’m glad to finally hear how you feel.”

He looked back at her and almost growled. “I don’t know what you want from me, Marianne. How else can I ask? What more can I do?”

He could shut up. “I never asked you for anything.”

“Well, maybe I should stop pushing myself on you then.”

Marianne sucked in as much cool night air as she could manage. He was only repeating what he’d already said, but it was just as bad the second time around. “I don’t want someone around who doesn’t want to be here,” she said. “I’d rather you were gone.”

“Done.”

“Go to hell,” she whispered.

Patrick ignored that and looked away.

“Uhh!” Marianne stepped back and sucked in more air. “You are such an jackass! How can you look at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like you’re, I don’t know, glad,” she choked out. “Like you’ve been waiting for this.”

Patrick stared at his shoes. “Maybe I have been.”

Marianne barely stopped herself from jumping forward and pushing him again. “Get away from me. Get away.” She walked backwards with her hands up.

But then she came forward again. One more thing… “You did everything you could to make it work,” said Marianne, “but all the time you were regretting it. These thoughts you’re having—they’re not new. Maybe you’re a coward. A coward, just waiting for me to be the bad guy. Ever consider that?”

“You’re right.” He leaned forward, just like she was doing. “I’ve done everything. Everything I could, but nothing gets through to you.”

They were only a foot apart now. “What the hell have I ever asked of you?” she said. “I never put anything on you.”

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted into her face. “I am swimming in all your crap, and I am so fricking sick of it.”

“Oh, you poor, put-upon baby.” Marianne folded her hands in front of her.

Patrick walked back three steps, just staring at her and getting his breath back. He put his hand behind his neck, his flannel shirt shifting in the wind. “I tell you what I need, and you just... How can you do this?” he whispered.

Do what? Forget it, she didn’t even want to know. “Sorry,” she said without inflection.

“Look at you...” He reached toward her. “You don’t even care.”

“You’re right.” She still had no emotion in her voice. “I don’t care.”

“What is wrong with you?” he said. “How can you be so awful?”

“You’re putting this on me? You knew who I was from the beginning. You should have just ended it a long time ago.” Marianne swallowed, losing her composure again. “You’re a coward,” she whispered, “and I hate you for that.”

“Well,” said Patrick. “At least you feel something for me. That’s a step.”

Marianne gripped her hair like she might tear it out. He was twisting this. Twisting it to accuse her of doing what he was guilty of. “You’re being a psycho. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Is that all you can do?” he said. “Call me names?”

“You’re right, Patrick, it’s a nasty thing to do. Too bad it’s true.”

“Why are you being like this?” he breathed. “What did I do to make you shut me out like this? I thought you loved me...”

She did love him, but what did that matter now? What did anything matter now that he’d finally admitted that she wasn’t the kind of person he wanted. Too shy, too silent, too heavy with emotional baggage. Too much for him. Or too little for him. Whatever it was, he’d gotten to know her, and he couldn’t handle her anymore. “I guess I was wrong.”

Patrick nodded. And then—in that exact moment—Marianne saw him end it. The fight, the relationship, everything. She watched it happen on his face. He was totally and completely done with her.

“Oh, is that it?” she shouted. “Aren’t you going to call me a trash-whore or whatever, the way you did with Brook?”

If Marianne had any lingering doubts about how he truly felt about her, his look took care of them. She hadn’t known that his face could produce a look like that.

Marianne did the only thing she could