changed how it ended to how i had it originally.

Chapter 19

"I wanted to personally congratulate you on this project. We are actually thinking of submitting this project to Harnes Korage. It might actually qualify for an award. It is being noticed by the industry at large for its innovation. A lot of the younger culture has taken notice of it. It is being referred at large on that picture blog, Imblr…"

I could not remember the last time my father eyed me with such fondness and admiration. His eyes were filled with a level of pride that I was not used to. I wished that I could bask freely in the look, because it is a look that I had always yearned from my father, but for some reason I couldn't openly accept it. The look only reminded me of all the other times I went above and beyond to get that look of pride in his eyes. Now it just filled me with resentment.

All I could do was look back at him in the blank way he stared at me whenever I tried to show him some kind of emotion.

"Thank you," I said in a voice deprived of any inflection and a face as blank as unused paper.

"You have really worked harder than anyone I have known over the past few weeks and your hard work is paying off."

I forced a smile and nodded.  I had worked hard. Functioning on four hours of sleep just to make some sense of some code to make an assigned robot do something. Implementing all my years of learning programming into doing something

How could I not enjoy words that I had wanted to hear all my life. My father seemed a bit taken aback by my unenthused reaction.

I had worked hard for this project and I was proud…but it was just not me. But it was my fault for still being here. I'd focused on this project at the behest of all else.

And please, don't get me wrong. My whole life had not become worthless because Henry Walker was no longer in it. I always tried to convince myself that I successfully separated my personal life from my professional and educational. My professional and education achievements had always been in their own realm, on their own plane. What I couldn't deny was how my disorganized personal life sometimes would drive me to meet my professional and educational goals, to the exclusion of everything else.

When I didn't say much, my father pressed, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The last time my father asked me this was when I graduated 3rd from one of the top colleges in the country. It wasn't first but it was good enough.

"Not much. Is there anything more that I need to know today?" I asked, not feeling comfortable with all this attention being allotted to me. It was too unnatural. And you know what they say: we fear what we don't know.

My father seemed a bit stunned by my curtness and business tone. After years of begging and begging to be informal with him, I just gave up. I'd given up on a lot of things emotionally for the past few weeks and it had made me quite the hard worker.

"You can go ahead and take the rest of the day off," he said next, surprising me.

"No need. I have to get some work done."

Taking the day off wouldn't do me any good. I needed to keep busy. I was the worst person to give time. It would make me think too much. Thinking too much would make me depressed.

Being depressed would make me binge.

My father assessed me for a long while and dare I say it, I saw a hint of worry in his eyes. Then, he finally nodded, wearing his detached, professional mien. The face that I was used to.

"Okay. If that's what suits you," my father finally said.

I hesitated to stand up, as I always did whenever I knew there was a drastic change to my body…or at least a change I deemed drastic. 

But when I did get up, I focused on the folder in front of me and crossed the plush carpet for the door.

"Is everything alright?"

My father's words struck me hard and made me pause. I looked over at my father, who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. He cleared his throat.

"You have been working very hard and it seems like you are not giving yourself time for anything else."

I had to do a double take. Not he, the proverbial workaholic, telling me that I didn't have time for anything else.

He seemed to have realized his hypocrisy, but I knew what he was getting at, so I voiced it.

"I know I've gained some weight," I muttered, trying not to succumb to the feeling of disappointment deep inside of me. "I'm working on it."

All work and no play also made Valerie gain weight. I overate under stress. I'd gained about five pounds in the last few weeks, give or take.

He appeared surprised and widened his eyes for a brief moment, only to sigh and shake his head.

"That's not what I meant..."

I know I shouldn't have made an issue of such a question that seemed trivial to most. Well, it was probably a question that wasn't so trivial cause everyone wanted to hear it at some point in their life.

The only problem is I'd wanted to hear this question so much from my dad for so long. I'd dreamed of being able to confide in him about things I couldn't tell anyone else. The problem? He had never truly asked. Probably realizing the error of his ways as my hurt probably showed on my face, my father looked away. I wanted to let it go. I wanted to seize this moment and tell Dad everything. But, it was Mr. Jones at work, and, to be quite frank, I didn't trust him.

"Funny you only ask me this after I accomplish something in your company. Do you remember what happened the last time I tried to tell you what was wrong? You told me to seek therapy and that you weren't equipped to deal with whatever it was that had me so distraught. So I'm sorry, nothing is wrong, Mr. Jones. I'm perfectly fine. I exceeded your expectations at work and have done all that was expected of me and more. My personal life should be of no concern to you and I will contact my therapist accordingly, as previous advised by you. Thank you for finally asking, though."

Seeing how closed off and guarded he began to get, I turned away from him. Silence met my back as I exited his office. I felt a bit petty and childish. Maybe this was the moment of truth and maybe my father and I were finally going to let bygones be bygones, but once bitten, twice shy.

The day I went to my father crying about what happened with George was the day he stopped me before I could say anymore and told me to seek therapy.

I wouldn't risk that reaction again.

****

After meeting with my father, the dreaded lunch was right around the corner. I was dreading it because I'd lost control over all my emotions and my bad habits were on the hunt, like vicious beasts that had to be restrained the majority of their lives because releasing them would only lead to distraction.

The beasts were ferocious that day.

As I walked out of the building, I felt a pang of hurt and regret that maybe I shouldn't have shunned Dad like that when he was trying to help. I was only going to prolong the healing process that I once thought would never happen between he and I. But the other part of me, the angry sad part that wanted control, refused me to go back and lap at his feet, begging him to forgive me for not forgiving him so fast. And then for some reason every other mistake I'd ever made in life resurfaced in my brain.

I needed a distraction. A strong one and now was the wrong time. I ended up at a fast food joint, already deciding that I was going to take my dad's offer and not go back to work, and I ordered more food than I knew I needed.

On the drive home, I ate, scarfing down a burger, hoping the sharp taste would distract the inexplicable pain piercing my chest. When I got home, I ate some more, thankful that Ella had finally moved in with Peter. He had proposed to her on July 4th weekend. Did that have something to do with the feelings of dejection within me? Probably. But a part of me was glad that she no longer lived in the condo with me. I could continue my habit freely and unashamedly in the heaven and hell of my own abode.

I thought of Mom and how concerned she was when I returned from July 4th. Those following days I was still in the honeymoon stage, oblivious to the fact that him not responding to the first text I sent to him since we parted--a text about Apples--was the beginning of no contact from him. Of course, Mom questioned me about 'that biker boy' she met on my birthday. What stuck to me most about this incident was that I felt Henry and I had connected so much, I felt him telling me about his father meant he actually trusted me, so I did something I normally didn't do with my mother--I talked about a guy I liked.

This was a breakthrough, and also something of a catastrophe for my mother.

'Clearly, dear, you can't be falling for him so fast. Have you known him long?"

My mother didn't know the nitty gritty details about Henry and I of course, but she knew me well enough to know that a mere mention of a male meant something serious.

Throughout my life, I had learned harsh lessons that forced me to keep my crushes to myself. There was a guy in high school who was nice to me, a handsome star athlete. You know, the typical. And he was that one darn thing that always got me--he was a nice guy. But when I started to show signs of liking him and word got around that I did, he started to ignore me or let it be known that we would always only be acquaintances and nothing more. There was also his friends making fun of him for being liked by a fat pig like me. I learned from then on that when I crushed, I crushed silently.

I also didn't want to seem dumb or delusional telling my friends who I liked with them encouraging me only for them to say behind my back that I needed a reality check.

As the weeks drew on and my mother checked on me, I played it off that things were still fine with Henry and I even though by then I knew he was done playing with me. I didn't want to prove her right, that guys like him could never settle down or take someone like me serious.

In my high-spirited state, I'd given Ella a few details when I'd returned from hanging around Henry but thankfully she was so caught up with her engagement she didn't nag me too much about it. She'd simply said that she was happy for me. 

Now I was the one that looked like an idiot.

In the living room of my condo, I ate and ate, trying to stuff my heart and my soul to drown out the pain that coursed through my body. A tiny Apples curiously sniffed the burger wrapping paper around me.

I stuffed my face until I was filled, and full, and no longer felt empty. But due to my weakness, I now felt like a failure. I did this to myself yet cried foul to the world every time I felt lonely, uncertain, and confused.

When I was done engorging all the food, I sat there feeling like crap. I felt so pitiful.

With a sudden burst of desperation, I raced to the bathroom and collapsed on my knees in front of the toilet. I leaned over the toilet. I winced, clutching my eyes shut and mentally apologizing to the fighter in myself. I opened my mouth as tears streamed down my face and I jammed my hand into the onslaught, my fingers going down my throat.

I made myself throw up.

As with all bad decisions, we try to rewind the clock to erase the choices we've made.

That is what throwing up did for me. For a brief, pathetic second, it gave me a false sense of control, of redemption almost, like I was reversing this mistake, hurling all this bad food that filled me like demons. It was an exorcism of sorts. The deluded thought that throwing up was somehow expunging the devil from me. That throwing up was subtracting the calories I'd already ingested.

I felt that temporary sense of power and release, that I'd somehow been my own superhero and prevented a disaster.

But underneath all these pretenses were my suppressed feelings. That unrelenting anger towards my father, sort of a 'take that' to him, somehow an ode to him and his emotionless parenting. The beast in my belly was growling at him that he had created this monster.

Only, what followed those thoughts and feelings was the harsh truth, that no one can break you unless you let them. Even when forced into doing something you don't want, underneath it all, isn't it our own choice whether we allow ourselves to be broken or not?

Now crying silent tears, I sat against the wall with a heavy thud.

As I sat there, holding my pounding head in hand, wondering where my life had taken me, I came to another harsh reminder that I'd been enlightened of during my therapy. It wasn't my father's fault. Or my mother's. Or my siblings'. Or George.

At this point, at 27, it was my fault.

I knew what life was like without binging to cope with my emotions. Therapy had helped me learn about self control. But there were times in life when you just got so broke down that you relapsed, and relapsing was worse than having ever been addicted to something in the first place. Relapsing made you think that recovery was obsolete.

It was painful because it stuck you in a rut. Was addiction to this behavior a disease? Or, was it simply of my own conviction and doing? My lack of self control and discipline? My lack of strength as an adult human being that had issues with being an adult and taking responsibility?

Was I truly a slave to my weight or was I just enslaving myself?

I could blame the men that had broken my heart and society's standards of beauty all I wanted, but what about all those people that had been through what I'd endured and worse but still managed to end up as responsible adults who didn't run to all sorts of dangerous means to handle their issues.

After brooding for what seemed like hours, I flinched when I heard a small meow followed by some warm next to my foot. It was Apples, sniffing about and meowing to me for attention.

Looking at the kitten made me smile tearfully, and somehow made me feel a little bit better despite the situation. That I wasn't alone. I hate how it made Henry cross my mind.

After petting Apples, I finally picked myself up off the floor, undressed, and stepped into the shower. When I was done, I flushed the evidence of my throwing up and brushed my teeth. Then I changed into my gym clothes and got ready to go for an all-too-intense work out, still trying to correct the wrong I'd done to my body.

While waiting on the water of my green tea to heat in the microwave, I made the biggest mistake and took a look at my laptop.

I attempted to check e-mails but was distracted by the homepage discussing the 'perfect bod' of a popular celebrity who'd lost pregnancy weight quicker than one could blink. I succumbed to the pop culture obsession, clicking out of curiosity and teeming with envy once I saw rock-hard abs and a stomach devoid of stretch marks.

I knew Photoshop was probably to blame but this particular celebrity was known not to have any. While it depressed me, it also gave me motivation to try and reach that potential. My laser surgery to remove the stretch marks was now a month away. I was looking forward to it, but at the same time, I didn't even know. I was just about to click off the page when I spotted the name Ben Walker on the sidebar of the popular celeb-gossip website.

Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked on the link. Some silly story about him dating someone. Another story on the sidebar of the page had Ben and Henry's name in the title. My heart unfortunately skipped a beat.

The Teen Music Awards had been the previous afternoon and the article said something about them showing brotherly love of some sort.

Seeing those green eyes now filled me with too many emotions, but unlike usual, they weren't smiling. He was more brooding, his usually smiling mouth forming a straight, unemotional line. Paps called out to him incessantly as he swept his eyes from camera to camera. He was physically present but clearly mentally elsewhere. It was a very quick clip, because he was just a songwriter/producer and not one of the young starlets, but he was mentioned a bit more when he was spotted with his little brother, Ben.

There was a look of guilt on his face that I couldn't understand, all while Ben spoke excitedly about he and his band mates being at the event. There was a point when the frown on his face was so deep and troubling that I became alarmed. I nearly reached for my phone to text him but felt a deep pain within when I remembered my attempts would go unnoticed. I think my number was blocked and the pain that ripped through me was unbearable.

And anyway, I no longer had his number in my phone. Neither did I have any of our old texts. It had killed me to delete them because I had read and reread them the first time he disappeared from me. Those were what kept my dreams going.

Shaking my thoughts off, I got my green tea and headed out to the gym.

When I finally got done exercising, I saw I had a missed call from Ella and a message.

"Hey boo I'm so sorry. I miss you so much. I've just been so busy with the moving and all the changes. Peter and I are having an engagement party soon and we'd love it if you came. We really do need to catch up. Love you. Muah."

I listened to her voicemail as I made it into my car. The warm summer afternoon was getting to me and I couldn't wait to go home, take a shower and just relax.

"Valerie?" I heard and sighed to myself, not in the mood to chat today. When I turned around, I was actually happy to see who I saw.

Chase Fallon.

"Chase!" I beamed as I instinctually opened my arms up for a hug. He smiled his gap-toothed smile and swooped me into a hug with his round arms.

Chase and I were the same height. He had a large frame, with a beer belly, short stockily legs and a round, bearded, adorable face. We held each other tight, as we had not seen each other in a long time.

He was the one friend I made in the 7th grade Spelling Bee I took part of, the only other black participant in the competition. He won and I was runner up. We'd remained friends all throughout, meeting up again in high school. Chase was extremely smart and while he could come off as a bit awkward and even a smartass sometimes, he was an awesome guy. He'd asked me out plenty of times but I'd always shied away from the idea, sighting that I didn't want to ruin our friendship when in truth, he just wasn't my type.

He wasn't my type, and I couldn't believe I had the nerve to even think of that. Who did I think I was? To stand there thinking about 'type' and 'looks'. That was probably part of the reason I was still alone. Chase was a good guy. He was cute too. But I just wasn't physically attracted to him. He had to have all these unrealistic qualities that in the long run didn't mean shit. Queue in Henry Walker. All those stereotypical, 'standard' good looks hadn't given him any redeeming qualities in the long run, had they?

The only thing about Chase was, he was just one of those opinionated, smart people that thought it was their way or the highway and that their high IQ gave them room to think everyone was wrong.

"Hey, Chase? How are you?"

"I'm good," he habitually pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'm back in Tilden. Got a promotion and I'm working here. Head over my department so I'm real excited about that."

I widened my eyes in surprise. "Wow. Head over your department and not even 30 yet? You go boy," I said good naturedly and he grinned wide.

"Well you know, sacrificed and worked hard. How about you? What have you been up to?"

We caught up shortly and after exchanging contact information were about to go our separate ways when a thought crossed through my mind.

"My cousin's having an engagement party in two weeks. Would you want to come as my date? It will be fun, plus, we haven't hang out in a while."

I mildly regretted referring to him as my date from the way his eyes lit up. I didn't want to give him any false hopes but then again, if we started small, who knew where it would lead? He really wasn't a bad guy and any way, I needed to hang around different people to see what else was out there.

"Of course!" he beamed excitedly. "Tell me the time and the place."

I smiled at him, hoping this would be a new beginning, proud of myself for trying to turn a rather dark day around.

If only I knew.

*******

2 weeks later

I guess after you hit rock bottom, the only place to go is up, unless you wanted to stay at the bottom. After my binging episode, I gathered myself together and had a pretty good week.

Chase and I had just arrived at Peter's place, where he and Ella were hosting the engagement party. It was a pretty good turn out and the parking lot was packed.

Chase and I had started talking again during the week. He told me he was still interested but I told him that we should just keep things at a friendly level. Had I not just gotten through what Henry and I went through, I would have been willing to talk with Chase in that way but there was so much I had to start taking care of with myself.

I needed to get my relapsing in order, and would be seeing my therapist in a few days as they had been on holiday then out of the country on business for the past two weeks. Chase was a good sport about it and didn't hold a grudge. He was on time to pick me up for the party and when we got there, I was in good spirits.

I'd be lying if I said part of my good mood had to do with me being sure that Henry wouldn't show up. I'd asked Ella to ask Peter--albeit casually--if he knew whether Henry would show up.

'Don't you have his number?' Ella had asked me confusedly over the lunch we'd had earlier that week. I told her Henry and I were truly just acquaintances and since I had changed my phone and number that I hadn't kept his. She reported back to me that Peter had just shaken his head, "Who knows with him? Probably not. He started one of his disappearing acts again. I might not hear from him till the end of the year, for all I know. But hey, that's Henry for you."

Peter had been curious as to why Ella was asking, but she said she was just wondering and that's when Peter asked her to ask me since me and him were 'talking', but Ella gave the same excuse that I had changed my phone and number. She said Peter had made a strange face but said nothing more of it. I wondered if he already knew something but didn't press about it. Honestly, I was over the whole situation with Henry, or at least trying to be, and wanted to move on with my life.

My father and I were back to business as usual and nothing more was said. He didn't pursue my odd behavior the previous weeks and I was glad for that. It's like I'd been conditioned to appreciate his ignoring me more than his pretending to be a concerned father.

It was nice to see some old faces and even some new ones. I was having a really good time with Chase when, like a train wreck waiting to happen, I heard a howl of excitement come from the entrance of the bungalow house.

Most people looked to the source of sound and my heart plummeted to my gut when I saw the cause. There in the flesh…Henry Walker.

He had on a huge smile on his face that made a bitter knot ball in my throat for how warm and fuzzy it made me feel. The dimple on his cheek made my limbs weak and for a second I was wondering how one human being could make me react so strongly just from being…alive. I gripped the glass that I was drinking water from tighter to keep it from slipping down my suddenly fragile fingers.

His curls were pushed away from his face, making his bright, friendly eyes more visible. Those eyes felt like daggers piercing through my soul. He was breathtaking, as usual. His tall, broad shoulders were highlighted by a stark white t-shirt, which made the tattoos down his muscular arms more pronounced. His long legs were covered by black jeans and he had on some different boots, still worn out like the others.

Seeing him in the flesh petrified me. All of a sudden my feelings had scattered like untamed animals that were now racing the wild with their owner no longer able to harness them. I feared my sudden lack of control.

I no longer knew how to control the situation. I could no longer predict how the night was going to go. Images of him and I intertwined flashed through my mind and my face grew hot with embarrassment and shame as that even crossed my mind as a possibility. How fucked up had I allowed him to make me? My entire body was burning and all of a sudden as I looked at him I could remember the way he looked at me with lust and desire.

He had come in with two other friends that seemed to know Peter as well. I felt like they had just crashed the party, making it less formal than it was. Most people at Peter's party were formally dressed but Henry and his friends looked a bit different from everyone, like you could tell they weren't all part of some corporate lifestyle.  They seemed more lax to the suit and tie atmosphere around us.

As he was greeting Ella, she pointed in my direction and I nearly hightailed out of there. When his eyes fell on me, his entire demeanor changed. His smile faded away as did the light in his eyes.

For a second there I felt like I was looking through a mask and seeing the real Henry Walker.

It was so strange. Those were the same eyes I'd seen when he was talking about his father and his past, dark life.

My heart shot to my throat and Henry, usually with his bad posture of hunching his shoulders when he walked, was standing straight as he looked at me. His eyes were wide and his entire  appearance was stripped to the bone and for a moment there he looked like a young innocent boy that was defenseless.

So many thoughts crossed my mind. What I really wanted to do was get up out of there in a huff, because all kinds of riotous feelings were spiraling through me, but that would be letting him govern my emotions too easily.

I fought, God knows I fought hard, to plaster a smile on my face and wave.

Henry was taken aback and blinked in a stupor for what seemed like an eternity.

I had to do this. Not just to show him that I was okay, but to show myself that I was okay.

"Look at all those tattoos. He looks fucking stupid," Chase said from beside me but I couldn't respond because the world around me seemed to deteriorate into something meaningless. I know that I was stupid for suddenly being so enraptured by this drifter of a man, but there is no sense lying about how I reacted the moment I saw him.

"Give me one second," I told Chase as I stood up and walked over to where Henry stood, waiting and just staring at me like caught in a trance. Each step was struggle, me walking up to him, confidently. Henry looked to be holding his breath as I approached him. The moment seemed to last an eternity.

When we were finally standing face to face, I felt like I was looking underneath all the layers of the guy I thought was so barefaced and honest when I first met him months ago. The heartbroken, guilty, and vulnerable look on his face was what lay under the masquerade that he smiled at everyone with.

This expression on Henry's face was the same one I saw whenever I was younger going through my own trials and looking at my own reflection in the mirror. The true face of a broken person.

But…a part of me, the wounded part refused to allow me, at least for that moment, to make excuses for him. I had seen that look on another face and I refused to fall victim to it.  

I put my feelings first and could feel so  much anger within me. There were so many things I wanted to say to him. I wanted to call him all the names in the book. Remembering the stupidity and pain I felt when I'd see him on the internet--one set of pictures in particular he was at a fashion show sitting at the front and had arrived, stayed, and left with a slender model a few years his junior.

I wanted to slap him and I wanted to tell every woman at the party that was already ogling him that he wasn't shit and wasn't worth any of the trouble. I wanted to publicly humiliate him for what he'd done to me.

But somehow I found this eerie calm within me. I think it was the desire to appear unaffected and strong. The desire to appear as an empress that didn’t need any validation or any emotions.

I felt all powerful and in control for having walked up to him with a smile on my face, without batting a lash and without letting him know how I felt.

Through hard work I remained calm as I witnessed traces of guilt as he blinked elsewhere.

"Valerie…hey…I…" He struggled to hold my gaze, but I beamed brightly at him. Ella had already been stolen away from another guest and for that moment it was just Henry and I in existence in this world.

"Hey Henry. I just wanted to come and say hi. Why do you look so troubled?" Fuck. I shouldn't have said that. Henry bit his bottom lip as shame ravaged his features full throttle.

He started scratching the back of his head. "Valerie--I…we need to ta--"

"I just wanted to say hi and see how you've been doing."

"I've been doing horribly…" he murmured so candidly, his eyes filled with so much pain and guilt I nearly faltered. But I also nearly rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe how pathetic he looked in front of me.

I remembered when I was binging and the fleeting thought that Henry was someone I could confide in without the worry that he would betray me and make me feel small about it. I can't believe how dumb I was.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, it was nice seeing you. Thank you for your time."

I was walking off, the adrenaline in my veins rushing so vastly I began to shake slightly.

It was like a lightning bolt when I felt strong fingers wrap around my wrist to stop me and pull me back to him. The action seemed to make his scent wrap around me like a whirlwind and I was dizzied as I remembered this scent vividly as he told me profess that I was his while he was embedded deep within me.

I flinched, knowing his touch so intimately that the mere friction of his finger prints sent a jolt through me. Why didn't I react like this when anyone else touched me?

I whipped around, breaking my resolve and letting my vulnerability show.

"Let me explain. Please."

"There's nothing to explain," I bristled, feeling the cold and anger spreading through me like wild fire. I couldn't help it. I was convulsing with anger, so much that my voice shook as I murmured lowly trying to contiant he pain within me. "You have some nerve…"

"Hey, is everything okay?"

Shock is what must have let Henry loosen his grip on my arm and I pulled it safely to my own body.

Henry looked passed me in confusion, then his eyes dropped to my waist where a hand was snaking securely around.

Henry tilted his head and squinted as he ripped his eyes from my waist up to my face and back down to my waist.

The irritation that flickered through his eyes and the spasm that went through his jaw surprised me, but the look quickly vanished.

A darkness began to settle in Henry's pained eyes and soon there was nothingness. I literally saw the bolts lock into his eyes, the windows to his soul. His eyes simply swung back to me and he stared expectantly, chewing on his gum in that nonchalant cocky manner that I'd seen made many women weak in the knees.

"Everything's fine, Chase," I explained rashly, the rushing in my veins making my voice quake and more high pitched than I'd have liked.  

"Chase, this is Henry. Henry, this is Chase."

Henry looked at me inscrutably before turning to Chase with that charming smile of his. A chill went down my spine. How could someone switch like that.

"Henry. Henry Walker." Henry held out his hand to Chase.

When I looked over at Chase I saw that competitive streak that always pushed him to puff out his chest at the highschool jocks. He could be very defensive when he felt threatened.

Chase put his hand in Henry's. " Chase Fallon. Not really nice to meet you. I don't like the way that you grabbed her hand."

Henry's eyebrows narrowed and while he didn't look pissed he looked speculative as he lifted his chin while he assessed Chase. Suddenly, Chase stifled a grunt, gritting his teeth in what seemed like pain. I glanced down at their hands and the system veins protruding up Henry's arm made me wonder how tightly he was holding Chase's hand.

"Henry..." I murmured and as if snapping out of it, Henry finally let go of Chase's hand and Chase let out a sigh of relief, flexing his fingers, all while Henry complacently clasped his hands behind him.

Henry looked my way, a menacing, burning look in his eyes as he watched me. "I'm sorry, Val. Or should I say, Valerie."

I gulped hard, feeling a tad uncomfortable, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. Maybe I should have just stayed away. Fuck.  

"I didn't mean any harm," Henry suddenly said in his charming tone as he averted his gaze between us both. "I hope you both enjoy your time. And Valerie?" He took my hand, bent at the waist and kissed the back of it. "Thank you for your time as well." He looked up at me with a smirk. "Best time of my fucking life…"

I didn't know what to say to him and felt Chase stiffening behind me at Henry's vulgarity. I snatched my hand away from his and rigidly held it to my side, loathing the grin on Henry's face as he straightened.

"What's wrong, Val? Why so troubled?"

Suddenly an arm hang around Henry's shoulder. "C'mon man, come watch us take a couple of shots."

"I think I'll have one myself," Henry said, all the while holding my gaze.

Peter's face lit up. "What?!" Peter looked over his shoulder at their group of friends."Guys! Fucking Henry is going to have a fucking drink! Bring on the Fenden! It's about fucking time yo!"

Henry was suddenly dragged away and he gave me one last, unreadable look before being ushered off to have a drink with his friends.

"What's wrong with him? He is kind of weird," Chase said, then got a hold of my wrist. "Are you okay? He held you kind of tight."  

"I'm fine," I muttered.

"How the hell do you even know someone like him?" Chase asked as he led us back to the couch we'd occupied previously.

"Through some friends."

Chase shook his head. "You should stay away from guys like that. They think they are so big and bad, thinking life is a fucking Grease or West Side Story movie but they are just children who never grew up. I get bad vibes from him."

I felt numb as Chase and I sat back down where we were. Everything going on around  me seemed like a dream and I was just floating by. I felt very strange about Henry's behavior and didn't know what to make of it. For several moments I was mad at myself for entertaining thoughts of Henry. From that point on Chase seemed to keep a tight leash on me. Whenever I'd glance Henry's way, he'd grasp at straws to catch my attention, going so far as to hold my face and make me look at him.  

I was not the only woman that kept on looking at Henry. While for me it was due to his bizarre behavior, I knew the other women were enraptured by him. There were already two women by his side vying for his attention, which they didn't have to vie for too long.

What struck me though was he wasn't trying too hard to show that he was having a good time. It all seemed very natural and just so…him.

It wasn't surprising to me that Henry and his friends were the life of the party. They were all the hipster kids, dressed in the latest fashion that most of us conservatives couldn't understand. I don't know why I found this guy so fucking attractive with his over-tattooed self and messy hair.

I tried to focus on Chase but I couldn't help but focus on Henry and his friend having a good time. When I assessed his group of friends, they were all different kinds of guys and all looked different but were enjoying each other's company. The song in particular was a popular one that I wasn't really familiar with, but about a woman not being faithful to the guy. Normally I would have found the guy stupid but I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he and Peter were being silly singing the lyrics about the girl that couldn't be faithful, doing whatever the latest dance was.

They knew how to have a good time and I found myself envying them, wishing I could be a part of their crowd. This is how I felt whenever I watched the cool kids, the jocks and frat boys in high school and college.

"C'mon. Let's go dance," Chase suggested. I wasn't up for it but I didn't want to let Henry control how I enjoyed myself or lived my life. I had already decided that this was the last time that I would ever interact with him. There was just too much going on and I didn't have time to try and figure him out. Clasping my hand around Chase's, I allowed him to lead me to the dance floor and we both danced with our drinks in hand. In due time I actually put Henry out of my mind and started to enjoy my time with Henry.

"C'mon. Let's go have fun," I said with my arms wrapped around Chase's neck, but hated how I noticed a notable difference. It felt different. I missed the feel of locks caressing my hands, the feeling of green eyes searing into me and the feeling of huge, secure hands exploring my lower back and hips.

And I know what you're thinking. Have some self-respect. You're not ready to move on. Trust me…I know…

But when you, as a human being, are caught up in the moment, you don't know how you are going to react. I rubbed my hands over Chase's face, only to see a smile that I knew that in due time I would become fond of and like.

If I had known that simple, affectionate action alone would unlock a plethora of issues, I'm not sure if I would have done it. Yet, at the same time, I was somewhat glad that it did release every withheld lot of emotion.

A song that I particularly liked came on and I danced with Chase. I was actually enjoying myself dancing on him and enjoying my drink, forcing myself to forget the outside world. I refused to restrict myself just because Henry was there. I tried to tell myself I didn't care that he was there. I hated that deep down inside I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't bothered.

Chase and I decided to take a break to get another drink. We were holding hands, stumbling and laughing as we went to the kitchen counter where drinks were being served by Ella's brother, who was a bartender at one of the local bars.

Of course we coincidentally came across Henry and the two girls that had been hanging off of him. I tried to ignore the jealousy that filled me when I saw him with them.

Chase, who was also in good spirits, chose that time to say something smart to Henry, who had smiled at us kindly but hadn't said much of another word. I noted the beer bottle in his hand and why it was so significant to me was because I had never seen him drinking. In all the time I had known him, which I guess hadn't been that long, I hadn't seen him drink.

Ever.

And it's strange that I took note of that. There was that time at my friend's party that he dj'd at but I don’t remember him being inebriated.

Hell, I even noticed the first time--and it stuck out to me a lot--that he didn't take one sip of the PainKiller that I ordered for him. And that time we went to the club he partially owned, The Tavern, and didn't drink at all. Yet now he was having beers and shots left, right, and center.

I may have not known Henry that much but it seemed so unlike him.

He held up his beer bottle to us in acknowledgement and continued talking to the women that flagged him.

I was bothered but curbed my emotions as best as I could. We were from different lives and realities and we would never coincide as one and it was time for me to accept it.

Though here was that nagging part of me deep down inside that wished I had never met him.

"Having fun?" Chase asked and Henry nodded.

"Pretty fun. How are you two doing?" He asked even though he didn't look once at me. I guess this is just how things would be from now.

"We're good. I'm sorry to say but, dude! Why the fuck did you get all of those tattoos? No offense but it looks stupid."

I shot Chase a disapproving glance.

The Henry that I knew would have been good natured about it, made a vaguely smart comment but just let it go.

But that's not what happened that night.

Instead, Henry raised his eyebrows and gave Chase a warning look that made me shift uncomfortably. I wasn't use to that look from Henry.

Chase, who was emboldened from a few drinks, continued on.

"I mean they just look fucking dumb right now. Like what the fuck made you get them? They look dumb. I remember guys like you from way back when. You live in the moment and don't give a fuck about the future."

When the friendliness on Henry's face vanished, and when all Henry did was look at him, Chase thought that the best moment to keep going.

"Chase--" I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me.

"You're going to regret all those tattoos when you get older. All that laser surgery you're going to have to do. I'm glad I wasn't that fucking stupid like you fucking punk, emo, guys."

"Chase!" I chastised him, but it was too fucking late.

"You're gonna regret that fucking smart mouth of yours in a few seconds when I get done knocking out a few of those sorry, rotten teeth of yours."

I looked at Henry like I was looking at someone else. I should have tried to diffuse the situation earlier.

It was too late.

"Dude, it was a joke…" Chase tried to alleviate the situation when he realized he messed with the wrong one. He'd probably taken Henry's laid back persona at face value. In fact, I knew he was surprised that Henry wasn't immediately antagonistic to him when they first started talk. I knew his mocking Henry had to do with him sensing that something was going on between the two of us.

Not only was Chase in for a surprise by Henry's reaction, but so was I. He'd stamped his beer bottle on the counter and faced off with Chase.

"Fuck you. I know how fuckers like you are. Don't try to play me for a fool, mate. You have been trying to get a rise out of me the whole fucking night. I may not be a science hobknocker like you but I'm not that fucking stupid."

Chase and Henry were now facing off, with me pushed off to the side.

"Since you wanted to take it there, I think now would be the perfect time to let you know that I been having a problem with you that I been trying not to let out for the entire night. And it has to do with me. Get your bloody hands off of my bird." Henry sounded so antagonistic for a second I wondered if it was really him or not. When I rounded his tall frame to stand by Chase's side, the look on his face was even more appalling than his voice. His eyes were fiery, thick eyebrows drawn together and mouth in a hard line.

I looked about in genuine confusion, even though in all honestly, I shouldn't have been shocked. But was I really at fault? I hadn't expected Henry to give a damn much like last time. He was off doing his own thing most of the night. He had seemed okay and honestly I was a bit proud of myself for not worrying about him too much.

"Excuse me?" Chase asked, confused. At first I was in so much disbelief that I didn't budge or say a word. Perplexed, I eyed Henry, wondering who I was looking at. Never had I ever seen him so hostile and unwelcoming. Not even to those 'leeches' he claimed surrounded his brother like moths to a flame.

"Did I stutter? Or was that rude? Okay, could you please get your fucking hands off of her," Henry's deep voice rumbled from deep in his chest, sounding courser than usual.

His body was taut and overbearing, veins bulging as he stepped up to Chase's slightly shorter, rounder frame. Henry's muscles seemed to swell and his hands were balled in fists that were intimidating. He looked much like a fighter then, towering over Chase's humble frame. I became increasingly uncomfortable the closer Henry got. I remembered him mentioning he got into kickboxing and suddenly it didn't just seem like his past time it seemed like his sole profession and goal in life.

"You have your hands on the wrong woman," Henry told Chase darkly, his long dark lashes framing green, grim eyes. He was looking as though he was holding onto the last ropes of patience just for Chase's sake. Henry and dark just didn't go together. It wasn't so much that he appeared scary but the fact that him looking so menacing seemed so unlikely was what was scary to me.

"…what…" I murmured amid all the commotion, my limbs weak with discomfort and a hint of fear that I wanted to tamper down. The fear I usually felt towards Henry was different from the fear I felt now. Normally, I feared the strong hold I allowed him to have over my emotions.

But now…deep down inside, I was fearing him as a person. Wondering if this was the other side. His true nature. I was trying not to hypothesize that those nice guys, those blithe and bright guys that seemed to have a light about them, were truly really dark. Because extremes only attract extremes and that bright lights only cast big, black shadows.

Nice guys had bigger secrets, I'd learned the hard way. They were especially nice because they were trying to hide something. Was this what Henry was trying to hide about himself?

"Who the hell are you, first of all?" Chase asked in contention, stepping up to Henry despite Henry's soaring height. I tried to pull Chase back to me but, already filled with adrenaline and heated, he roughly wrung me off, sending me stumbling back a few feet. My stumbling only ignited Henry further. His eyes widened quickly then narrowed dangerously as he pushed Chase at his chest,  sending Chase a couple steps back. A few gasps rose from the now watching crowd, me included.

"Get your fucking hands off of her..." His voice rumbled, a smoky, simmering sound that was seconds away from overflowing. Stepping up to Chase holding up his index finger as if to count onel, Henry continued admonishingly. "I already said it once. I'm not going to repeat it again. You are not allowed to touch her. She is mine and she said so herself. Do I make myself clear, you fucking plonker?"

My heart thumped warningly in my chest, as seeing this antagonistic side of Henry was too much of a shocker for me to bare. And him saying I was his brought up a vivid memory that only spurned and made me feel stupid when I thought of it now.

I finally galvanized into action, trying to get hold of Chase's hand and leaving.

"Oh my god, Chase, I'm so sorry about this. Let's go-" my voice was drowned out as Chase contemptuously stepped closer to Henry. They were almost nose to nose.

"Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?" Chaes scoffed. "You look like a fucking twelve year old. You dress like a fucking little boy and you are acting like one. Grow the fuck up."

"Because I'm not suited up like you, eh?" the smirk on Henry's face was so sinister it made me want to hide. He looked too much like a villain for my liking. I think I'd associated him too much with positive things that I couldn't stand this other side of him.

"Because I decided to make music and not the fucking nine to five?" Henry continued and for a second I didn't even think he was talking to Chase. Something about his words seemed so misplaced. "Because I was actually successful?"

"Yo, Henry." Peter, who was behind Henry, tried to speak, but Henry shrugged him off so violently Peter staggered back and seemed surprised as well.

"Henry!" this time Ella stepped in.

"You look like a damn fool and Val would never be caught dead with you." Chase challenged and I knew it had to do with his own past vices and demons. "I don't know why you are worried about her."

Henry laughed, a cruel, cold laugh that sent a chill down my spine. It was an arrogant, belittling laugh. "You have no fucking idea mate..."

"You're a fucking drunk and probably sleep with the whole town and can no longer tell your women apart. Valerie wouldn't.  I know your type. Just leave us the fuck alone. Clearly, you can't take a joke."

The laughter subsided, and a dangerous flicker went passed Henry's eyes and asked Chase in a tone that dared him to even answer. A dangerous flicker went through Henry's eyes. "What did you just call me?"

"Did I hit a nerve? You're a drunk? Alcoholic?"

I was just about to step in. Something in me told me he was about to attack. And I think Peter felt it too, for he too caughta  hold of Henry's arms.

"We're leaving. Back up, Henry, we're leaving."

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about you asshole! Who do you think you are to put your hands on what's mine?" Henry began to ramble, struggling against Peter. "You came out of nowhere. Bug off you spineless, insipid, bastard. She belongs to me. I don't even know where the fuck you came from." Henry snarled.

When I saw that Chase was getting intimidated and obviously scared by Henry's overpowering physique, I truly began to become disgusted and even a bit scared of Henry.

"Stop it Henry…" I said, my patience thinning, not really knowing how to handle this whole situation. Henry seemed to have heard me this time when he spoke and his eyes shot to me. I hated how I shrank behind the gaze. I hated the sordid memories they brought.

"And you?" he asked me pointedly, accusingly. He had successfully pushed Peter off. The look in his eyes was so dark, so intimidating I winced when he first cut his intense green eyes to me. "What the hell are you doing with him anyway? Why are you even with him in the first place? You are mine, you said so yourself, you are not supposed to do shit like this."

I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. I was about to pull the hairs out of my head. I didn't have the patience for shit like this.

"You are such an asshole Henry Walker. Oh my god…" I shook my head with my hand over my mouth and started to walk off when I felt my eyes stinging with tears but Henry tried to stop me. Peter stopped him from touching me and Chase stepped in front of me.

"Get him out Peter. Get him out!"

"What do you mean I'm an asshole?" Henry went on, having snapped. "I fucking love you. I'm fucking in love with you and you're fucking totting him around like he's some fucking prize! How the bloody fuck do you think that makes me feel?!"

All I could do was stand there and stare at him in shock as his scent wrapped around me. Fuck…

"Henry, chill the fuck out man--" Peter tried to intervene, but Henry shook his head stubbornly.

"No. No. She knows." He looked directly at me. "She knows I'm in love with her. She knows it, I know it. Never in my fucking life like this Val." He scowled as he stepped back, an untrusting man that had a tight lid on all of his emotions. "It's all your fucking fault. I was safe before I fucking met you. It made sense before I met you. I had it all figured out. I knew how to control this shit--"

Peter folded his arm on Henry's chest, having to use all his force to push Henry back, yelling to try and get to him but Henry's eyes remained latched on me. "Shut the fuck up. Chill the fuck out!"

"Everyone, I'm sorry but the party's over," Ella murmured, her voice shaky from anger as she started to try and round everyone up.

My eyes widened and I was holding my breath when I froze, his loud voice the only sound save the gasps that went around in the room and the back ground music. Henry's nostrils flared, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed hard. His green eyes were intense, and angry. But what struck me was how confused they began to become. It was almost like he didn't understand or couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth.

When I first met him at the club a few months ago, I never thought that I would hear him professing his love to me, and in such a state. What the hell had just happened?

This was all too much for me to process. In books and movies, a drunken love confession after only meeting a person a couple of times seems very nice and exciting. But in reality, it feels intimidating and out of place. It was too soon. It was all over the place. I didn't melt like I always thought I would if a man drunkenly told me his feelings for me because he was unable to guard his emotions. I felt vulnerable and out in the open for attack. I felt manipulated in a way, sort of tricked into expectantly floating over to him just because he said the 'L' word which was supposed to make all right in the world.

I hated to feel manipulated because of what happened in my last relationship. But also because I felt when you told someone you loved them, it shouldn’t have been a last resort.

I remember when George first told me he loved me after an argument we'd had, and I fell head over heels the moment I heard it, as if that was my one life's mission. And then I'd quickly forgiven him for what he did. But hearing Henry say it, it felt too much like a distraction. It felt like I was simply supposed to accept the words to the ignorance of all the pain and confusion I'd endured for an entire month plus. Seeing him flaunting all the wanted models on his arm. Seeing him laugh and smile while I tried so hard not to cry over a man I had opened up to and slept with so easily. Damn. And I was supposed to wilt simply because after ignoring me for more than a month he revealed that he was in love with me?

I hated how life was truly not what it seemed in the grand scheme of things. I hated how reality was such a jaded version of what we hoped and dreamed life could be. But I guess that reality kept everything in equilibrium. Life wouldn't really be life if we could have everything we wanted without some sense of struggle.

Still, regardless of how uncomfortable I felt with his relation, I couldn't deny how grand it made me feel…deep down inside. That was the part of me that had allowed the Henry Walker Effect to take control of me. And how I hated myself for it. I think deep down I had known that he had some feelings for me. And I knew I had immense feelings for him, but not after what he had done for me as far as giving me confidence and making love to me like that was his sole purpose in life.

But I had fallen for him after he had shown me that even the surest man, the most successful man, still had vices and insecurities. I had fallen for him when he showed me that he was not perfect. Perfect people only magnified

Just to know that, like me, someone else had fears and doubts about certain aspects of life drew me closer to him. It made me realize that you didn't have to put anyone on a pedestal because we were all equal, trying to find our way through this life. And to know that he didn't have it all figured out while it felt that way, made me fall for him harder. I was angry because Henry didn't seem to get that. I was mad because even regardless of it all, I still didn't seem to get him.

All along I thought that I was guarded, but in reality, Henry was far more guarded than I was. Wasn't that something?

Henry broke his gaze from me, having revealed something I'm sure he hoped to take to his grave from every guilt ridden bone in his body from that point forward.

"You know what, I don't have time for this shit. I'm sorry, Val, but I'm out," Chase said, incensed as he angrily left the party. I was still too stumped to say anything and Chase left.

Before long, Ella had emptied most people from the party. She kept shooting Peter dark glances that he frowned at, only to eye Henry accusingly.

I refused to let my expression soften because of the revelation. I refused to completely embrace the revelation. Being in love with someone didn't solve everything. It didn't excuse anything.

It seemed like centuries passed us by. I wasn't too sure of my surroundings, but I finally let my eyes lift to Henry again. He looked guilty, once again, his head was down. He must have felt my gaze on him and looked up at me. His expression was hard but in his eyes, I could see remorse. He took in a huge breath, then bravely tried to reach for me.

"Valerie, listen. I'm sorry. I just…"

Henry had touched me many times before, but when I felt that feather light touched, it was the most painful of all touches he'd given me.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I practically screamed as I stepped back until my back met some resistance. I think I was back against some wall, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be away. I didn't want to be touched by him or even looked at by him. I felt like he didn't deserve me in any kind of way at that moment. I couldn't remember being so mad and also so afraid.

Then again, I could…

George.

Only, before, I had melted against the touch. I had cried and let him take me again. I had let him fool me into letting me think that I was loved and desired.

The fact that I was determined not to make that same mistake made me react violently.

As I looked at Henry's horrified face, I felt like I was afraid that a guy I liked so much was a potential abuser, emotional or physical. It made me sick just to think that Henry, a guy who loved his mother more than anyone else on this earth, would fit that bill. It made me sob harder. Why couldn't things be so simple?Well, they could be. We just made them hard sometimes.

When I cried harder into my hand, Henry's face fell harder and he tried to reach for me pleadingly.

"Val…"

"Fuck you. Don't even say my name. Don't ever refer to me again, okay? I'm done with you. I was done on July fucking fourth anyway, wasn't I? You're little fucking game!"

"Henry, you need to leave," I heard Ella in the distance but wasn't too sure.

"Babe…please--"

I flinched like I'd been afflicted when I felt his touch again, "DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

"Henry, leave her alone," Ella's steely voice sounded in the distance. "Peter, get him out of here."

"C'mon man, let's go," Peter tried to intervene, but to no avail.

"Let me talk to her. Valerie, please, I just wanted to talk…"

When he attempted to hold me again, both hands on my arms, I became fearful of being a girl that was prone to abuse.

I wouldn't allow it.

Using the only weapon I had on me, I splashed my glass contents of alcohol in his face. Henry wince as he clutched his eye shut, a slew of curse words flying out of his mouth as he stumbled back and bent while wiping his face.

"You're so full of shit." I said in a fit of rage. I was shaking so hard. "Don't come near me! No one is ever going to hurt me again! Stay away. You fucks are all the same. Stay away from me!!!" 

"Okay, you guys, that's enough," Ella said as she rushed to my side, prying the glass from my hand, and pulling me away from the living room. I wasn't sure where we went because I was blindly crying. Fuck.

Wherever we were, she sat me down but I was crying so hard I wasn't even aware of anything around me.

"I promised I would never let another man make me cry like this. Oh my god…" I cried to Ella as she led me away from the scene.

"Valerie, Sweetheart--"  

"I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid." I cried into my hands as vivid memories of how a similar moment as this turned into falling onto hands of a man I thought I loved, letting him make love to me only for him to end up hurting me like no one else ever had. And when I tried to tell Dad, he pushed me away…

"What have I gotten myself into? I never want to see him again," I cried to Ella. She held me close as I balled into her chest.

I felt like I'd been crying for hours, but it was probably minutes. When my cries finally quieted down with the help of Ella calming me down, I could finally focus on those loud sounds that were in the background.

"No you are not going anywhere! You sit the fuck down!" Peter's voice soared in the background.

"Let me go," Henry said quietly.

"Sit the fuck down before I call the cops and tell them that you are going to drive while drunk!"

"I'm not fucking DRUNK and I'm not driving! I'm just going for a walk!" The way Henry yelped the word 'drunk' made me flinched. I clutched my eyes shut at Henry's roaring voice and Ella tucked my head under her chin when she felt me flinch.

"A-fucking-gain?? Again??? Like you used to do when we were kids? Really Henry?" Peter bellowed.

"I'm not doing this right now," Henry murmured warningly.

"Run away from home but go for a fucking walk and not come back for two weeks only for me and Mom to find you on the fucking street fighting for your life because you got beat up by a bunch of thugs? You want to do that again? Become the homeless street fighter you used to be?"  Peter questioned and his voice sounded like he'd been holding in countless years of pent up frustration.

"If you don't move out of my fucking way…" Henry mumbled and I hugged myself close in my arms, feeling his patience thinning.

"What the fuck are you going to do, Henry?" Peter taunted, but in a very tired voice.

A long span of silence followed, then Peter spoke again.

"Hit me," Peter derided. "Because that's the only way I'm letting you leave this time."

More silence followed.

"Every time dude. Every fucking time! You do this to people and you have no fucking concept of how your behavior affects others. This is not normal okay? This is not normal!"

"I never said that I was normal," Henry said almost inaudibly.

"You can't keep hurting people, man! Do you know how much hurt my mother went through that day you said you were going for a fucking walk but never fucking came back for two weeks? How responsible she felt when we found you all bloodied up, bruises, cuts…what the hell, Henry?"

"I was 16…"

"16, 28…isn't this the same old dance? The only difference between then and now is that you know how to play the game, but you finally met someone that you can't play that game with. You met your fucking match, man."

Silence stretched the minutes following until Henry spoke.

"Move, Peter."

Peter sighed heavily.

"Okay, you can do that shit with me, Henry. Stop by every few months, maybe years. The only reason you and me are still close, is because I understand you. I accept you. That's what you do with family. But at some point accepting trickles into enabling. I got nothing to lose by you hopping in and out. Do whatever the hell you want. But when you're involving a woman's feelings, a woman who obviously has trust issues, you can't get away with that shit. I can tell this shit bothers you more than anything else. Let me guess, did you cut Val off too?"

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Then Henry spoke. "I was going to explain it to her…"

"Explain what? That you have trust issues? That we all have trust issues? I have known this girl and she never lets anyone in. Never. But here you come along. I mean when you told me you could break anyone down, I didn't believe you. But I didn't think you'd actually play around with her."

"I wasn't playing around with her. I just didn't expect…"

"Yeah she was a challenge but you are so fucking screwed. You are a fucking grown ass man now, Henry. You can't keep running away from folks like that."

Silence.

"I know that's all you used to do man, but at some point, you have to stop running. You can only run so long until you meet your dead end."

Silence.

"I have never seen you behave this way," Peter continued. "You know you fucked up, and you're just mad at yourself."

"I said, move," Henry warned, and though his voice was calm, there was something about his tone that made me feel that wasn’t just a threat, but a promise.

Without much thought, I disengaged myself from Ella's hold and rushed to the living room.

I had stepped in to see that Henry and Peter were nose to nose and Henry's hands were balled into fists. At my disruption, they both turned to me and Henry's face quickly softened and his fist relaxed. He looked defeated and closed his eyes, balling his hand into a fist so tight it shook.

Then he stood back while combing his fingers through his doused hair.

"I was going to stay, but what's the point…" Henry murmured with a frown.

Both Ella, Peter and I were just looking at Henry in bewilderment.

"What's the point of setting ourselves up for disappointment?"

"Henry…what the…" Peter murmured. "Dude, just…"

"Everyone always leaves in the end, don't they? Everyone always lies. Even your fucking shadow. Nothing is constant and nothing stays the same. If the people we are supposed to trust the most can hurt us and leave, what the hell is the fucking point of getting close to anyone else in the first place?"

Henry shook his head, which he was still holding. "There is no point of getting close to anyone. Every man is alone in this world."

"Henry, dude, you're freaking out, okay?" Peter tried to put a hand on Henry's shoudler. "I don't know how serious you and Valerie were but you just starte--"

Henry tensed when he felt Peter's hand on him and stepped back immediately. His eyes were still closed and facing the ground.

"I just found out, not too long ago, that my old man tried to embezzle money from me. He gained some of my trust. Not just some, all, and I put so much on the line for him, only to be made out as a fool once again. And his reason for stealing money from me was just to fund his fucking addiction." When Henry opened his soul-beaten eyes and regarded his best friend in defeat, they were bewildered, but still filled with pain. He faced the ground again. A little boy pleading for an explanation. Ashamed by his emotions but also desperately trying to find an explanation. "Peter, you tell me, if my own fucking father can do that to me, who the fuck else can I trust?"

The question hang in the room unanswered. The silence was too loud and penetrating.

"So please. Move..." Henry said quietly. Tiredly. There he was, walking out again. Leaving.

Escaping.

Guarding himself.

Protecting himself.

Without  another question, and at a loss of words, a shocked Peter reluctantly stepped aside. Henry walked to the door. When he placed his hand on the door knob and looked back at me, a pleading look filled in his eyes, as though asking me to understand. But his eyes became closed off again and he looked away from me and just hurried out of the apartment, leaving me with my heart breaking into a million pieces.

I stared at the door for several minutes even after he'd left. It was over. I knew it was over. I couldn't keep dealing with this forever. A part of me never wanted to see him again. No, not after tonight.

But...

There was pain in his voice that I could strongly identify with. I think, above it all, it was the fact that he was hurting from something his father had done that made me do the wrong thing.

"Valerie! Wait!"

I ignored Ella and foolishly went after him, needing a full explanation.

Needing the whole story, not just bits and pieces.