"I told you I loved you, and I meant it. I know everything about you. Figuring out your parents weaknesses had a lot to do with their kids. I was looking for anything and everything, then eventually, I found all the payments to a children's psychiatric center. For you. They said it was treatment for ptsd from abuse. I had found just what I needed. Your parents weren't as perfect as they let on. Their own child was abused. I was ready to expose them to everyone, but then I fell in love with you, and I couldn't. I couldn't force you to live with more reminders of what you went through because I love you. I know I've done things wrong, and I'm not a good person, and I probably don't deserve you, but please, just give me a chance."
"Fuck you Ximenes. Fuck you." I hissed.
"Nani I'm sorry-"
"No- I don't want to fucking hear it! Shut the fuck up! How do you enslave children then fucking apologize and think it'll fix anything? You're delusional! And my parents never abused me, but yes, I was abused. By you. You supposedly didn't want to remind me of being abused but what do you think it felt like everytime you laid a hand on me and I couldn't do a thing about it? I was eight years old again. Beaten and bruised the same way, if not worse."
"Nani you're deflecting. If it wasn't your parents, who was it?"
"You're a fucking sociopath."
"I know but that's not the point. " He sighed.
"Actually, you're a psychopath."
"No, you were right the first time. I'm a sociopath." I blinked, trying to determine if he was serious or not, then gave up.
"You know what? You can be whatever the fuck you want. Just stay away from me." I began backing away and he reached out for me until he saw me flinch and looked back at his hands like he didn't understand what he did. I took that opportunity to try and run out onto the beach, looking for any way out of here. There was none. It was an island. A small one. My heart sunk knowing the only way out of here was by boat, plane or death. I turned to walk back inside the house just to be met with Ximenes' chest.
"Ximenes move out of my way before I get mad."
"I'm sorry."
"And I'm tired of hearing your half assed apologies. Move." I glared into his eyes and finally he stepped aside.
"There's no one else here. I'm the only person you're going to see for the rest of your life. Why do you make this so hard?"
"Because I hate you."
"You can't hate me forever."
"Wanna bet?" He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to me. "Don't even think about touching me. I'll kill both of us." I snarled. He retreated but grabbed me by the hand and led me into the kitchen while I struggled.
"I'm hungry and tired of you." He complained. "Cook." he ordered. I looked at him and started laughing so hard I almost pissed myself.
"Look, I don't know what you thought this was, but as I previously mentioned, I hate you. If I cook for you it will be with rat poison. "
"If you want me dead so badly why would you tell me that?"
"Because I'm not a murderer, and because I'm not going to allow you to think, even for a second, that I'm going to sit here and play house with you. It's not going to happen-" before I could finish my sentence he gripped my jaw in a manner I was sure would leave a mark. "What happened to 'I love you'?", I mimicked.
"Whether you want to or not, I refuse to be miserable for the rest of my life. Either you're going to love me or you're going to act like you do. My mother always used to cook for my father, and you're going to do the same for me."
"Your mother and father were abusive, racist, low-key incestuous, psychopaths. Why would you ever use them as a model for any relationship you want to work?"
"They're the only model I have." he sighed quietly. His entire demeanor changed.
"You've never watched a romcom? Or seen any other couple?"
"I always thought those were for women, and I don't really pay attention to other couples. Growing up they were the only family I had, so they were the only couple I saw. You have to understand, I was raised in a community where most people didn't even have two parents. At least my parents were together. I thought that must mean they're doing something right. Nothing ever proved me wrong. When you think about it, couples in books and movies aren't too different from my parents. They argued more than they talked, but they always made up, usually through sex, then they started the cycle again. My dad was possessive and jealous, but don't you guys like that shit? I mean sure if he got mad enough he'd toss my my mom around a little but she'd always get flowers and a gift the next day. I know that they hated each other, but isn't there supposed to be a thin line between love and hate? Nani I don't fucking know to be honest I don't understand any of this shit and that's why I'm begging you to help me. Help me be better. I can be better for you."
He looked vulnerable, but I couldn't help myself. "Ximenes that's not my job."
"What?"
"It is not my job to make you 'better'. And you can't truly be better unless you're trying to be better for yourself. I don't buy your bullshit. I believe that you grew up watching a toxic relationship and saw those toxic characteristics reinforced through media and relationship expectations but I also know that you aren't an idiot. You've had ample time and opportunity to educate yourself on things you know are toxic but you chose not to because they benefited you. In fact, the same goes for your worst crimes. You understand racism and sexism and you've unwittingly shown me your disdain for both on multiple occasions. Yet, you still exploited both to make money and get what you want. You knew this system doesn't care about black girls so you trafficked them the most! You actually used systems you knew were fucked up to your advantage! You choose to live in ignorance time and time again because ignorance is bliss for you. So no, I will not fucking help you. You will help yourself. Pick up a book. Or better yet, since google is free, research abusive behaviors. I don't care. But you're going to do it by yourself for yourself if you want it to mean anything to me."
I didn't wait for a response, marching back upstairs and plopping into the first bed I saw. I tried to sleep. Praying for even a moment where I wasn't conscious, where I didn't have to think. I wanted to die so badly but I tried so hard to fight it. If I couldn't do that, maybe sleep was close enough. Still, sleep evaded me as well, and tears began to fall from my eyes. It took hours before my eyes closed on a tear soaked pillow with thoughts of Ade swirling in my mind.