Gage's POV

The moment Kaylah hung up, I simply stared at the phone in my hand for a second. The cracked screen slightly distorted the phone call log, but it still rendered it visible. 2 minutes and 21 seconds. I wasn't expecting her to pick up so quickly, and I didn't expect her to suggest meeting today. So yes, instead of showering and getting dressed, I spent the following five minutes staring at the call log in dead silence in just my boxers in the middle of my living room just coming to terms with the fact that I was about to tell my girlfriend's best friend I'd almost strangled her to death. Ex-girlfriend.

I focused on the strip of pink, white and green cutting my screen vertically on the right-hand side, staring it down until my vision went blurry. I had indeed planned to get a new one, the day I had seen Ari at the mall and asked her to come to the game on Saturday. I was so pleased after the encounter that I only realised I hadn't even looked for a phone. And hey, after a couple of tries and a couple more prayers, the old one jumpstarted back to life, so going phone hunting isn't exactly a priority.

A glimpse at the clock mounted on the wall was enough to snap me out of my momentary shock and spur me into action. I knew lying wasn't an option. She could probably smell me from a mile away, like a shark picks up the irony tang of blood in the ocean. Plus, of I she hears it from me first, I might help my case. Although I'm not sure how sympathetic she might be when she after she hears all I've got to say.

Having the abusive ex-boyfriend accuse the current boyfriend of being psychotic sounds a bit of a stretch even to my own ears, but I don't exactly have any other course of action. Sighing to myself dejectedly, I went ahead and pulled the window open, hoping some fresh air might help clear my head. Instead, I was immediately hit by a gust of uncomfortably moist air which held an unmistakable tang of sweat, which fit perfectly with the screams and honking coming from beneath.

Leaning over the railing, I could see a traffic jam just beginning to form, as all tourists were eager to go for some sightseeing, heavy clouds having ruined any chances at sunbathing. Excellent location, they said. You've getting yourself a great deal, the woman reassured me as I signed the lease contract. I'm never getting roped in by a sales agent ever again.

After a brisk shower (the water was cold, because I wasn't patient enough to wait for the boiler to heat it up) and throwing on a random nondescript t shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, I grabbed my keys. I was so lost in thought that I dropped my keys as I was trying to unlock the front door, and while bending down to pick them up, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. I straightened back up, and turned, now fully facing the hallway mirror.

To say I looked dishevelled would be a gross understatement. My eyes were sunken from sleep deprivation, and my dirty blonde hair flopped lifelessly onto my forehead, too tired to even try to tame it. I could still see traces of myself though. My slightly lopsided eyebrows had always offset my amber eyes, yet where they used to flash with either happiness or contempt, now only seemed dull, and sad. Disappointed even. My shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped, and in short, I looked like I had aged years in mere days. Because it had been five agonizingly long days since Saturday. Five days in which I debated whether to call Ariana and try to get her to listen, call Nathan and confront him, or call Kaylah and pray she doesn't file a restraint order.

All while being unable to get a wink of sleep, partly due to the irrational fear that Nathan could just barge in and kill me in my sleep, and partly from the very rational fear of what he might be doing to her.

I checked the time on my phone, and realised I was already running late. I was going to open up a text and tell her I was stuck in traffic, and then realised this was probably the douchebag excuse she was expecting. Another heavy sigh later, I was out of the door, feeling my resolution wane with every turn of the key in the lock.

                                                                                        xxxx

I would like to say I didn't miss the street on purpose and didn't take a detour to deliberately give myself a couple more minutes to mull over exactly what I had to say. I would also like to say I only took extra time to park my 4x4 because I had been hit with a sudden desire to play the good Samaritan and make sure I didn't stand in anyone's way.

In the end, though, I had to step out of the car, lock it, and then walk to the door, which I pushed open without thinking too hard if how exactly I would breach this. There was no point in turning back now. I was immediately hit by the intoxicating smell of incense and, was that freshly brewed coffee? At past seven in the evening? Definitely why Kaylah chose this place. You don't need to know her all that well in order to know she's a bit of a coffee addict.

I could see her sitting on a bar stool, idly conversing with the bartender, light catching bouncing off her blonde highlights. They seem to be quite close, and he seems positively not interested, eyes flitting to the men passing by more readily then looking down at Kaylah's lips.

I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and out of place. I didn't really do bars. Seems like things change. As the pair noticed me, the guy, whose nametag read Jon, swiftly found himself somewhere else to be, while Kaylah pointed at the seat next to her and said "Sit", pointing an accusing finger towards it as if it had offended her personally.

"I'll only ask once, and if I feel like I'm being lied to, I'll leave and you can kiss goodbye whatever you're planning," she paused, looking at me expectantly. "Well? I'm all ears."

So, I told her. Without any sugar-coating, without beating around the bush. I gambled away the last of my money, and hoped I hit the right combination. I laid down all my cards, and waited.

As I talked, I first noticed Jon leaning it to listen, then slowly but surely coming to flank Kaylah, as the story progressed and become all the more gruesome. By the time I was done, Jon seemed inclined to strangle me, but most likely refrained from doing so only because he had no desire to break the rules. I'm pretty sure there's some clause that specifies bartenders aren't allowed to physically harm customers.

Kaylah, on the other hand, had gone perfectly still, face drawn in a grim kind of resolution. Her hand moved, pulling out her phone and pressing three digits, but refraining from pressing call. Instead, she placed it on the bar, at equal distant from both of us. It seemed to glare at me accusingly.

"Give me one good reason I could have even a modicum a trust in you, and why I shouldn't call the police," every single word was punctuated by undiluted anger, her voice shaking with the effort of keeping her voice from rising, as to not disturb the others around.

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut before I could say something that could aggravate the situation. I did that a couple more times, failing to find the words, any words that could seem appropriate in this situation. I must've looked like a gaping fish.

"If you're going to say you're sorry I'd warmly suggest you think again" there was nothing warm in her tone. Although I was physically stronger and could've easily won in a fight, her stare still gave me chills.

"I'm despicable. I've abused her emotionally and physically and I could've just as well killed her because I know I've scarred her for life. And yes, I regret it more than anything I've ever done in my life, and probably will for the rest of my life. But I can't change it, no matter how much I want to," I tried to convey every single lost hour of sleep, every single moment I spent pacing and embracing again the self-hatred I had buried years ago.

She didn't seem even mildly impressed, and I hadn't expected her to. Instead, she kept staring at me, and I could see the cogs in her brain turning, calculating. In the spur of the moment, I made to touch her arm, and she recoiled so suddenly she almost toppled over, standing up instead in one fluid motion.

"Don't you dare even come closer! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Do you think your action shave no consequences? That you're the only one left suffering? That your little pathetic attempt at a speech would change something? I didn't care what you wanted when you called, and I sure don't want to find out now." her chest was heaving, and she hurriedly grabbed her stuff, making for the exit. I stood up as well but refrained from trying to touch her again.

"You need to listen. Please. For Ari's sake."

"Ariana, for you. And I don't have to do anything. Self-entitled to the very last, aren't you?" then a bit more contained, she said "You need therapy. Ever heard of anger management classes? Because you could fucking use some," she then turned her back on me, as if I wasn't even there anymore, and tried to pay Jon, who waved her away with a small smile and a swift flick of his hand.

Then she stormed past me, but stopped abruptly, turning her head just enough to make sure I could clearly hear her next words. "You make me sick, I hope you know that" she said nothing more as she pushed the door open, and disappeared in the crowd milling down the side walk.

Anger management classes. Yes, I most likely could use some. And it might show her and my parents I am trying. With that thought in mind, I made to leave, but Jon tapped me on the shoulder, face again a mask of indifference with a hint of disgust. "Someone's got to pay for this, you know" he said noting more as he handed me the check quite unceremoniously.

Hii! If you're read this far, thanks a lot! Also, thank you for putting up with my chaotic upload schedule. I felt kind of guilty so here are two chapters. I'll try to get back on track with regular updates soon :)