The flare of his temper was more than he would want to show to anyone. Most of all to her. But she was lashing him. Relentlessly. Her words of disapproval and disregard slicing into him like any switchblade would.
Robertâs teeth are clenched, listening to Courtney speak down to him, like he was a fucking needy child that she was sick of reassuring. Like he wasnât the one running around making sure everyone else was as reassured all the time.
Let me guess: you think Iâm cheating on you? Going around behind your back and fucking someone else?
Robert snapped his eyes to her; his expression darkens stiffly. âYouâre a selfish asshole.â Statement. Remark. Certain. Just as certain as the blood coming from his heart from her last swing. Because how the fuck could she even say that? To him. After everything!
âOnly you could possibly think that me worrying about my girlfriend randomly leaving work early is an issue of trust.â And that fucking hurt. That hurt so much! How could she possibly think that of him? Why would anything like that at all be on her mind? Unless it was already there for a reasonâŚ
His chest feels tight as he continues, muscles clench with more adrenaline than heâd felt out in the field for a long while. âI came home for you! I left work,â his arm sweeps widely in the vague-est of directions to anywhere but here. âTo make sure you were okay! This whole god damn week in fact, Iâve been worried about you!â Worried. Concerned. Which bled into feeling put out. Doubt crept in, sure. Doubt about himself.
Robertâs not taking in air and his bodyâs feeling it. âMaybe that was a mistake.â It hurt so much to even hear the doubt cast. The doubt upon him. Even with all the work heâd been putting in, trying to make whatever the fuck this was work, it wasnât enoughâ and it had been working, hadnât it?! Was Robert just gaslighting himself into believing that the whole time she wasnât viewing him as a potential risk, a potential exit waiting to happen, or someone who would deem themselves to be her jailor?
âYou know what, youâre right, this is about trust. After all this time you canât seem to trust me enough to talk to me like a normal fucking person! Apparently, Iâm only good enough to be told after the fact unless I figure it out on my own.â And maybe thatâs what this was. Maybe this was her telling him there was someone else. Or simply that she was done and would prefer literally anyone else.
Robert closes his mouth, scowling as he jams a hand into his jacket pocket for the much-reviled work phone. A building collapse. Citizens possibly in need of rescue. The Mech was perfect for the heavy structural pieces.
Robert raises his eyes to Courtney. Normally the dance would begin with both of them trying to come up with an excuse for him to stay, trying to find someone else to fill in, before ultimately having him be forced to leave. It was never because he wanted to. This time?
This time was different. It was fact, to Robert anyway, that his presence was more annoyance than comfort. Robert wasnât wanted but Mecha Man was needed. Clutching his phone and shaking his head, Rob turns on his heels back to the door for his bitter exit. They always tried before to make sure they didnât end on a sour note. Not this time. The attacks struck deeper than Robert had realized or been prepared for. Because what settles with confirmation of doubt is the realization that maybe he had the right of it from the start, despite not wanting to believe it the whole time. This wasnât going to work for her and he feels spiteful. Angry, when faced with that reality. Disgusting. It's funny how fast care can turn into a fight. The last thing he wants.
âDonât wait up.â The door slams behind him.
