Chapter 12
1201 Words
Hazel’s POV
“You aren’t going anywhere, young lady,” he said, only to place his mug against his lips.
The audacity.
For a few minutes, I stood frozen at the base of the stairs, my hand still resting lightly on the railing.
My other hand was clenched around my purse, fingers curling into the faux leather like it was the only thing tethering me to my sanity.
I turned around slowly and deliberately until my eyes met his.
Of course he was still shirtless and was still standing in the same position like he had the damn right to tell me what to do.
Like he hadn’t just spent the past few days making me feel like I was invisible. Like I was a flickering bulb in his house that was annoying, inconsistent, and inconvenient for him.
Squaring my shoulder, I raised my chin, “Excuse me?”
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he took another sip from his mug like we were having a polite conversation about the weather and not whatever the hell this was.
“I said,” he repeated, his voice low and steady, “you’re not going anywhere dressed like that.”
I blinked as my jaw slackened.
Heat had started to simmer beneath my skin.
Not the good kind, not the kind I usually felt when he looked at me with that brooding, unreadable expression.
This was different, it was pure rage.
“You don’t get to say that to me,” I snapped. “You don’t get to control what I wear or where I go.”
He set the mug down slowly, like he was preparing himself for the venom I was about to unleash.
“Hazel, I’m just saying—”
“Oh, now you’re saying things?” I took a step forward. “You didn’t seem to have anything to say when I was falling apart in that room upstairs.”
“I didn’t know you were falling apart.”
“Because you don’t care.”
His jaw clenched.
I was already regretting coming down those stairs. Already regretting the effort I had put into curling my hair, putting on makeup, and convincing myself that I was someone who deserved to feel wanted, even if it was just for a night.
But more than anything, I regretted letting him see me like this.
“Whatever I do, is none of your business. And maybe it’s time you learned how to mind yours.”
For a second, I thought he was going to let it go but then, as if the universe wanted to push my buttons to the point of explosion, he chuckled.
He actually chuckled.
“You're living in my house,” he said, taking a step toward me. “Eating my food, sleeping under my roof. Don’t you think that gives me some right to be concerned?”
“Concerned? Is that what we’re calling this? You tell me how to dress, how to act, and what to do. Is that your version of concern?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder and immediately, I swatted it off..
“Don’t touch me,” I spat.
A flicker of something passed through his eyes.
“Excuse me." I snapped, storming towards the door. But just as I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, something stopped me.
It wasn’t his chilling words, it was the gnawing ache inside my chest that made me rethink everything that had just played out.
Taking a deep breath, my grip loosened.
Without a second thought, I turned around and marched back up the stairs.
Now inside my room, I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound echoing through the hallway like a warning shot.
Tossing my purse to the floor, I kicked off my heels and collapsed onto the bed like I had just fought a war and barely survived.
This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
I reached for my phone, my fingers shaking just enough to fumble the screen. After a deep breath, I hit Annika’s name and brought the phone to my ear.
She picked up after two rings.
“Don’t tell me you’re already done with the date. Hazel, did you scare him off again?”
I let out a shaky breath, mustering the most pitiful voice I could fake. “I’m not going.”
“What? Why?”
“I just… I can’t. Cramps, really bad cramps.”
There was a pause.
She didn’t buy it. Of course, I wasn't expecting her to.
“Girl, you’re lying through your teeth,” she muttered. “But lucky you, I was actually about to call and say your date bailed.”
Stunned, I sat up, “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Apparently, something came up. Family emergency or whatever. Honestly, he sounded like he just chickened out when I spoke to him.”
At first, I felt relieved.
No date meant no pressure, no pretending to laugh at mediocre jokes while imagining someone else’s voice.
But then the thoughts started creeping in, one by one like cockroaches in a dark kitchen.
Why had Simon really stopped me from leaving?
Why did he look at me like that when I walked down the stairs?
Why did he care now?
Was it just because of his daughter? Because of appearances? Because he didn’t want me looking like that for someone else?
Or… was it something more?
“Hazel,” Annika’s voice pierced through my spiral. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” I murmured.
“You sound weird.”
I didn’t answer right away. I was staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror across the room.
The girl staring back at me didn’t look like someone who had control over her life. She looked tired, torn, and maybe just a little bit foolish.
“I think I made a mistake,” I admitted.
“With bailing on the date?”
“No,” I whispered. “With letting him get under my skin again.”
Annika sighed, and I could practically hear her biting back her words.
“Hazel, you’ve got to draw a line. If he’s going to keep acting like this, you need to stop giving him space in your head. You deserve better than this half-assed, push-and-pull routine.”
“I know,” I said. “I really do.”
But knowing and doing were two different things especially when the person you were trying to erase from your heart lived right downstairs.
We hung up a few minutes later, and I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, the soft whir of the fan above me matching the buzzing in my brain.
My thoughts went back to the moment Simon placed his hand on my shoulder.
The way his fingers had pressed gently, almost cautiously. The way his eyes had scanned my face like he was searching for something.
“Ugh!" I groaned in frustration.
I hated that I wanted to believe it meant something, I hated that I still cared.
Just as I was about to drift off, a soft knock sounded at my door.
- Writer
