Chapter Forty One - Remorse

Sean is not your boyfriend. He can do that.

That's what I kept telling myself as I angrily paced outside the club in the chilly air, my arms tightly wrapped around myself for warmth, not like it was being much helpful.

When I'd walked in on them, they were too busy eating each other's face to even notice me. And I was so embarrassed that I sprinted out of the bathroom and didn't stop until I was out in the fresh air.

I was feeling many emotions, but sadness wasn't one of them. I was utterly confused about what I should've been feeling. I was mad—hell! I was so enraged that I could feel angry tears stinging my eyes. But it wasn't because I had seen Sean making out with Ashley.

Instead, I was thankful it wasn't Matt shoving his tongue down someone's throat, but the thought of him doing the same with Rebecca in some corner of the club was what blinded me with fury.

I never had Sean. I couldn't have Matt. I was just...alone.

Maybe I'd just wanted a boyfriend after all. Any boyfriend, said my drunken self as I found myself nodding. I really thought Sean and I were getting somewhere. Why would he do that?

"Looks like I win."

I faintly heard a voice behind me and approaching footsteps. A moment later, someone was standing very close to me, and I didn't have to turn around to know who it was because I'd already recognized that cologne.

Oh! So, he'd finally remembered about me.

"You're drunk and out of the club. Just like I said." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Congratulations," I breathed out.

A prolonged moment of silence passed.

"Are you ready to go home?" his voice sounded searching. "Let me know if you need a ride just in case your boyfriend wants to save himself an extra mile again."

Boyfriend. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I couldn't believe how naive I'd been all this time, thinking Sean was into me. I knew that him making out with Ashley wasn't wrong because, technically, I wasn't even his girlfriend, but I was mad at myself for living in my own fairytale and believing he liked me already.

"Hey," Matt called, stepping so close I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder. "Look at me."

Suddenly aware of the situation, I blinked several times to push back my tears, but Matt had already grabbed my shoulder and spun me around just as a stubborn tear rolled down my cheek.

"What's wrong—"

His words died mid-sentence. He appeared to have gone completely rigid like a stone, the only sign of life in him being his eyes that desperately moved across my face for a hint before he asked in a low voice, "are you crying?"

I quickly wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffled. Shit! That was embarrassing. He'd never seen me cry before.

"I-I didn't know I was." I let out a laugh, turning away. "I'm fine."

He scowled. "No, you're not. I need to know what happened. Did someone do something—"

Once again, he stopped talking, but this time, like he'd just realized something. An intense look flashed in his deep brown eyes as his jaw clenched with anger.

"What did he do?"

My mouth opened. "What...who?"

He tilted his head with a warning. "Sean."

I suddenly started recalling if I'd drunkenly taken Sean's name in the past few seconds. I hadn't.

"I never said anything about Sean doing something—"

"So, you're not crying because of him?"

"I..." I trailed off.

He took a step closer, his eyes remaining furious but voice allaying to a surprising calm when he asked, "What did he do, Becks?"

Becks. I sucked in a breath. Him calling me Becks suddenly made me want to tell him, and that pissed me off. So, all it took was a nickname for him to have me opening up to him? I didn't think so.

"This doesn't concern you. You should go back inside to whatever you were doing."

His eyes blazed with fury, and I finally saw the loose thread his temper was hanging by. "Say that again, and I'll get it out of Sean instead, but I won't be asking him so nicely."

My eyes widened. "You can't just..." I trailed off, searching for any hint of lie on his face, but he was dead serious. Deep down, I knew he meant it. "Matt, just leave me alone, okay?"

I turned my back to him and prayed that he would just leave me alone, but I could still feel him standing right behind me. A minute passed, two, or maybe five, but he did not move.

I peeked over my shoulder just to make sure he really was still there. He was. Watching me. The calmness in his eyes could barely conceal the rage—he looked torn between staying with me or barging into the club to confront Sean. A part of me was happy he'd chosen to stick with me. I shut my eyes with a sigh.

When I wrapped my arms around myself because of the cold, I heard some shuffling, and he placed his jacket over my shoulders. "Put this on."

Without arguing, I slipped into his warm jacket and buried my face in my hands.

Then, I breathed for a few moments. He was still there.

"I walked in on Sean making out with Ashley."

There was a long pause. And then—

"That's it?"

I slowly turned around, glaring at him. "What did you say?"

It was hard to miss the relief in his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. "Dammit, Andrews! You scared the shit out of me. I thought he'd done something to you."

My jaw dropped slightly. "Is this not bad enough?"

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

"Wait! Are you saying this is not a big deal?" I tried to make sense of his words.

"I never said—"

"Oh my God! Maybe you're right. I completely overreacted, didn't I? He's not even my boyfriend." I gasped, pacing around. "I-I should go back in there. I should talk to him."

"No, that's not—"

"He didn't do anything wrong." I started making my way back inside.

"Dammit, Rebekah!"

He grabbed me by the collar of my—his jacket rather roughly and pulled me into his rock-hard chest. My body flushed up against his as my palms flew to his chest to steady myself. "Have some fucking self-respect."

I gasped when he shouted those words, angry eyes blazing down at me. I don't know for how long we stayed like that but with each passing second, I felt myself growing smaller and smaller under his scorching gaze.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He shut his eyes, shaking his head. "What he did was wrong. He gave you obvious signs, invited you here and..." he trailed off, his anger resurfacing. "He's not getting away with that, okay?"

"W-what do you mean? What are you—"

"But none of that should make you do this to yourself. You're better than this, Rebekah. You deserve better than this."

Once again, he shut his eyes for a fleeting moment and inhaled before whispering to me, "he does not deserve you."

His voice was so soft, I found myself seeking solace in it. My fists grabbed his t-shirt and I angled my face to look up at him squarely. "Then who does?"

He tightened his hold on the jacket collar, clenching his jaw again and when his eyes locked with mine, I could see his inner conflict.

"Who does?" I pushed and his eyes darted down to my lips.

He swallowed audibly, and I took that as an opportunity to push myself up on my tiptoes slowly yet daringly and cup a hand around his cheek.

I didn't know if it was right but it definitely didn't feel wrong when his hands loosened around the collar and started reaching for my face instead. His thumb brushed against my cheek and I tilted my head, leaning into his palm.

"What do you want, Rebekah?" His voice was barely a whisper while his eyes held a storm, a telltale sign of him heavily relying on my answer.

"I don't know," I muttered in all honesty.

His thumb skimmed across my cheek and slowly travelled to my lips. It stayed there for a second, then ran across my lower lip, making them part as I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"I'm taking you home."

"Y-yeah you should." I nodded with half a mind when he pulled away and followed him to his car.

He did not say a word during the ride home and I kept my gaze out of the window. Once he parked the car in front of our houses, I leaned slightly forward to take off the jacket but he interrupted, "it's fine."

"Okay." With a little nod, I stepped out of the car but the moment I took a step forward, I froze at the sight of my parents' car in the driveway. They were home early.

"Oh no!" I breathed.

I heard the passenger window rolling down behind me.

"Something wrong?" Matt asked.

"My parents! They're home early. Shit! I can't go in like this."

"Like what?"

"Like drunk. Like reeking of alcohol and barely keeping my eyes open. This is it. I am so dead."

I turned around, panicked. He was watching me pensively. "You can come to my house and freshen up before you head home."

"That's great! If you don't mind."

He stared at me blankly. "I literally just offered."

"Right."

I crossed the street and patiently waited on the front step while he parked the car. When he stepped out only in his dark gray t-shirt and denims, I wondered if he was cold after giving me his jacket. No guy would ever admit it but he had to be cold, right? I found myself tightening his jacket around me.

"Come on." He headed inside and I quietly followed. The moment I walked in, I imagined running into Garrett like that and started feeling the embarrassment already.

"Are you hungry? Or need a drink?" Matt asked.

"I've had enough drinks," I muttered.

Another look over his shoulder. "I meant water or something."

"Oh. No thanks."

"Do you treat all your guests like that?" A voice startled the both of us as a man in an immaculate gray suit made his way from the living area, eyeing Matt. His hair was similar to Matt's—a dark shade of brown, except a few silver strands here and there. "Come on. You're raised better than that, Matthew."

I immediately recognized him. It was Luke Williams, his father.

For the first time, I saw Matt so taken aback about something, nervous even as he inhaled a quick breath. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

To that, his father raised an amused brow. "It's my house, isn't it? I live here. Or was I gone for so long that you forgot about that?"

"Of course not," he said stiffly. "I meant back from Texas. I didn't know you were coming back today."

"Surprise," he said plainly while walking over to the mini bar in the corner and refilling his glass from a big glass bottle of what looked like whiskey.

"Where's mom?"

"She's resting upstairs. I was actually headed up too when you guys walked in."

"Don't stop on our account then. We'll be on our way." Matt motioned for me to follow him upstairs but his dad's voice halted our movements once again.

"Are you always taking girls upstairs like that? This isn't a swinger club. This is my house." Then he cut me a sharp, disapproving look, pursing his lips. "No offense."

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I... we're not—"

"Your memory may not be serving you like it used to in order to recognize her so let me help with that," Matt cut in, annoyed. "She's not girls. She's Rebekah Andrews. She lives across the street."

I felt my heart swell with pride and I finally took that as my cue to greet him. "Hi, Mr. Williams. Nice to meet you."

His eyes widened for a second. "Rebakah? I apologize. I didn't recognize you. I haven't seen you in such a long time."

"It's okay." I nodded.

"I didn't mean to come off so rude."

I managed to smile. "Really not—"

"We'll be upstairs." And with that, Matt took my hand and started dragging me up to his room while I waved back awkwardly at his father, who in turn returned it with a tight smile.

Matt shut the door after us and motioned towards the bathroom with his chin. "Go ahead."

"You don't get along with your father?" I demanded like a brat—courtesy of alcohol—and only realized how brazen I'd been when his hand froze over the door and he remained silent.

"Sorry. That wasn't my place to ask. I-I won't be long in there." Cursing myself under my breath, I marched inside the bathroom and shut the door after me. My exhausted form leaned over the sink and I shook my head at my reflection.

My mascara had streaked down my face with tears while my eyes were puffy and red, not to mention my hair was all over the place.

"I don't blame his father at all," I whispered to my reflection and washed my face. It didn't remove the makeup but at least I didn't look like some homeless drunkard anymore.

After fixing my hair, I grabbed a tissue from my bag and dabbed my face dry.

"Rebekah?" Matt knocked on the door.

"I'll be out in a second."

"Just making sure you didn't pass out in there."

"How thoughtful." I smiled and swung the door open. He was standing a few feet away with a glass of what looked like lime juice.

"It'll help." He placed it on his nightstand and went over to his study table and flipped open a notebook.

"Thanks."

I sat down on the edge of his bed and took a sip in silence. He still had his back to me and after observing him for about a minute, I realized he wasn't really reading anything.

"Are you doing that to avoid me?" I asked.

"No," he replied plainly, not even trying to sound convincing.

"You're mad again."

"No."

"Is this about today?" I bit down on my lip before adding hesitantly, "or is it still about the pineapple pizza thing? I know you've been salty since—"

I was cut off when he slammed the notebook shut and turned around. "Rebekah, I don't care whether you'd wanna kiss me or not. I really don't. Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because you've been acting different since the game. You're clearly mad at me. Your replies are curt and to the point. You don't even mess around anymore."

"What does it matter if I don't?"

"It matters to me, okay?" I snapped, getting up. "So, whatever this is about, just talk, please."

Deep brown eyes stared into mine intensely for a hot second before he looked away, crossed his arms and took in a deep breath before saying, "it's getting late. You should go home."

"Unbelievable," I scoffed and started to march up to the door in defeat but not before saying while walking past him, "maybe this is why I'd choose a damn pineapple pizza."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Just as my hand curled around the doorknob, his hand fell flat against the door, holding it shut even before I could've begun to open it. Exhaling, I spun on my heels to face him.

He had a deep scowl sitting on his lips.

"So, me being nice is what it takes for you to want to kiss me?" I took in a shaky breath when he inched closer and angled his face down. "To want to be with me?"

"Matt, I..." I trailed off, lowering my gaze to his lips. "That's not what I—"

"You really think this is only your choice? That if you agree, I'll all for getting with you? Snap out of it, Rebekah. You have no idea how pathetic you are for running after an idiot like Sean. That's all it took for me to lose the little interest I had in being anywhere near you."

I must've still been drunk because even in the past, when Matt's words had hurt me, I'd never let him see it on my face but now, I had tears pooling in my eyes and I was barely trying to hold them back. Is that what he really thought of me?

He must've been a little drunk too because he'd never cared about hurting me or anyone else. But when that single tear rolled down my cheek, I saw it in his eyes—the remorse.

My hand had involuntarily started probing for the doorknob to leave.

"Wait!" His eyes were full of regret and he opened his mouth to say something but without a word, shut it. Then he looked me in the eye and finally mustered, "maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe?" I snickered. "You say a lot of things you shouldn't say, Matt. But that's just how you are. Always have been. And I was stupid to think that things would be different now just because you were nice to me for what, a month? I should've known better. You'll never change."

His jaw clenched. "Rebekah, I did not mean that."

"We both know you meant every word of it. You have no idea how impactful your words can be, do you? I really thought you were a different person now. But you're still that middle school bully whose world only revolves around himself."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Don't go there," he warned.

I scoffed. "Why? Does it hurt to remember the days when you bullied people for sport?"

"Can you stop..." he spoke deliberately, "bringing that up?"

"No. And here's another reason why I would never, ever be with you—you'll always be the asshole who bullied my brother. I'll never forget that."

I had forgotten that in the past few months. But I was glad he'd reminded me he was still the same person.

He set his jaw, then as if a switch went off, he was calm. Almost like he was hurt. Had I hurt him? Probably. But not as much as he'd hurt me.

His gaze softened when he took a step closer to me. "What happened after that?"

"What?"

"After the...bullying."

His eyes appeared to be accusing me, like he wanted me to feel guilty about something and for some reason, I couldn't speak. So, he continued, "I tried to reach out to you and your brother...many times. To apologize. But you wouldn't let me. Do you remember that or are we gonna pretend like that never happened?"

He'd caught me off guard by bringing that up. I looked away, whispering, "of course, I didn't let you."

And then brought my gaze back on him. "Because hearing you out would've meant giving you a chance, and giving you a chance would've meant forgiving you and you didn't deserve that. And you just proved that today."

He'd hurt my brother so much. I could never forget how miserable he used to be at home and how it took everything in him to wake up every morning to go back to school.

He was a sensitive kid and God knows how bad I wanted to kill Matt for ever making him feel so powerless for not being able to stand up for himself.

Taking in a deep breath, I looked up at his face and almost mistook the accusation in his eyes for hurt as he watched me.

"I'm gonna go."

He swallowed, not making another move to stop me.

I stepped out of his room, dashed down the stairs and didn't stop until I was in my house.

My parents had already eaten and went up to their room after Mrs. Brooke had covered for me, telling them I was studying at a friend's house so I grabbed my dinner and headed up to my room. Once I'd changed into my pajamas, I decided to FaceTime my brother.

It had been a while since I'd talked to him and I was missing him a bit more than usual with everything that had happened.

"Rebekah!" He beamed the moment he was online.

"Blake." I smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good. How are you, Becks?"

"I'm awesome. How are things at college? Are you coming home anytime soon?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "Things are going great and busy. I'm not sure I can visit until the next few weeks."

"Oh! It's alright."

He leaned into the camera as if trying to focus on my face. "I can't see you clearly. Why are the lights so dim?"

I turned on my bedside lamp and faced the camera.

"Yep! Something's definitely wrong. What happened?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?"

"Rebekah." He raised a brow. "Spill."

"Nothing's wrong. I just miss you."

He looked worried all of a sudden. "Is everything okay at home?"

"Yes." I nodded but he didn't seem convinced so I sighed. "It's just...it gets a little lonely sometimes. Mom and dad have always been busy but earlier I had you. Now it's just me after school. I talk to Mrs. Brooke but she's busy most of the time so I just hang around by myself. Sometimes, I don't even see mom and dad until morning when they're already leaving for work."

He smiled. "You know that I'm always here whenever you wanna talk, right?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. I wasn't going to cry in front of him and have him worry about me just because I was being a baby.

"Of course, Blakey."

"Oh hey, Becks!" Someone popped up behind my brother and waved at me with a grin.

I almost rolled my eyes at the person. It was my brother's childhood best friend and his now college roommate who also happened to be a certified womanizer. I'd never liked him.

"Hey, Nick," I said plainly, waving back until I had to squint at the screen. "Are you in a Batman costume?"

"Oh yeah!" He looked down at himself. "This redhead, she loves Batman. I'm gonna get some—"

"Nick, get out of here." Blake pushed him out of the frame and I heard his laugh before the door was shut after him.

I shook my head. "I pity you. Better a ghostly home than a bustling dorm with Nick."

"Well, it's not all that bad." He shrugged.

"Do I wanna know what you mean?"

"No, you don't. Nope."

My jaw dropped slightly. "Blake freaking Andrews, did you just make him your wingman? Don't say yes. I'm gonna be pissed."

He shrugged to himself.

"What? Was I not enough?" I gasped.

"You were. But you're not here, you know, Becks?"

"Alright!" I pouted. "Tell me more about college."

We began exchanging our stories; we were always treating each other like our personal diaries, telling almost everything. I gave him an update on Sean but steered clear of anything music related. I didn't want him to know who I'd been hanging out with lately. For some reason, I didn't think he would take it well. Either way, I believed I was done training with Matt so why bother Blake now, right?

"I'm gonna go to bed now. You take care of yourself, Blakey." I stifled a yawn after about thirty minutes.

"You too, Becks. And just call me whenever you need to, okay?"

"Yeah. You too." I nodded and we both hung up.

Since my day had been so exhausting thanks to a certain musician, I passed out like a baby the moment I got under the covers.