Chapter 15: Go Fuck Yourself
"You think he's better than me, don't you?" Mateo asked me.
What in God's name was going on here?
I blinked abruptly, the words sinking into my chest like a lead weight. My fingers itched to reach for him, to shake him and make him see that he had no reason to think that, but every step forward was a battle against my own frustration.
"Mateo," I called, my voice trembling despite my efforts to sound steady. "Are you okay? ¿Por qué pensarías algo así?"
The brief Spanish slipped out without thinking, a mixture of instinct and emotion. His brows furrowed slightly at the phrasing. Even with a Spanish mother, Mateo could only speak Italian, his father's language.
I immediately switched back to English, my voice faster now, tumbling over itself in the rush to understand what was going through his thick skull. "Why would you even think that? If I thought Alexander was better than you, I wouldn't even be here, would I? I wouldn't even be with you!"
His dark eyes softened for a fraction of a second, and I thought I saw relief, but it vanished almost immediately. Mateo's hands unclenched at his sides, but his posture remained defensive. "Isabella…" he began cautiously, like I might break if he said the wrong thing.
"No," I cut him off, stepping closer, the words spilling out. "Your actions prove the opposite! Every time you focus on Alexander, every time you let him let him interfere, it's like you care more about what he thinks than what I'm feeling! Do you even care that Alexander dragged me out of that room? That the cop was trying to pin the whole crime on me?"
Mateo opened his mouth, closed it, then ran a hand through his messy black hair. "I… Isabella…"
I shook my head, refusing to let him speak. "No, don't. I don't even know if you realize what you're doing. I'm standing here hoping you will see how fucking terrified I am. How I fucking appreciate that Alexander was in that room for the first time in my life and how I'm glad he took me out of there but instead all you can focus on is the fact that he was holding my hand when we walked out of the room. You don't care about anything else but to mark a claim on me and paint me as this damsel in distress who can't do anything without the help of her fucking boyfriend."
"But you need my help..."
"I need your support not your help, Mateo. You can't help me. You have very little information about this case so how are you going to help me? How?" I asked him.
"If you'd just come to me..."
I laughed then. "You know, you claim I was behaving differently right? But from where I'm standing, you're the one behaving differently. You're the one acting like you're someone I don't even know!"
"I'm behaving differently because I want to help you?" He asked incredulously.
"No. That's not it. It's more than that. One, you don't want me to be independent..."
"You are a murder suspect why do you want to be independent?" He asked me.
"I don't want to be treated the way you treat me. Like I'm some egg and that I'm different." I stressed out.
"But you are different..."
"...yeah, I'm a murder suspect aren't I?" I asked him and he swallowed.
"Wait." I said with a laugh. "Don't tell me, does this argument have anything to do with what happened recently?"
A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he shook his head firmly. "It has nothing to do with our argument. You're just… being unnecessary."
"Normally, I'd agree with you and think so too. But you don't want to see me for me and maybe you really haven't ever seen me for me."
"What are you saying?" He asked with narrowed eyes.
"I'm saying you should go Fuck Yourself Mateo. Fuck off."
He stepped back slightly, jaw tight, hands still at his sides. "I'll see you when you calm down," he said evenly, his tone making it clear this conversation was over.
I raised my middle finger and turned on my heel, storming down the hall and taking the stairs toward the dormitories.My fingers fumbled at the knob, and I yanked the door open, letting myself in without bothering to knock. The room was warm, pink, and cluttered as always, a cocoon of calm I couldn't feel yet but needed desperately.
I slammed the door and leaned against it, letting the weight of the moment crash over me. My lungs burned, my chest heaved, and my hands shook from anger, frustration and everything else. I hadn't even bothered with going back to class, there was no way I could concentrate after that exchange. My mind was still tangled in anger, frustration, and confusion.
I began pacing the small space, letting my thoughts tumble over themselves. Mateo… he was my anchor. He had always been my anchor. And yet, moments like this made me wonder if I even knew the person he was underneath all that intensity, all that control.
But I refused to focus on him, not now at least. Not while the detective was still out there, twisting the story, trying to make me into someone I wasn't. That had to be my priority.
I crossed to my desk and grabbed a notebook trying to piece things together but that was proving futile. There was only so much I could do by myself. I needed to prove this detective wrong. And I had to do so before they contacted our parents. I couldn't burden my parents with this.
And if Mateo wasn't going to be a support anymore, then screw him. We'd been together for years now but it was like the more we grew, the more strange he became. It was like he was different from the person I thought he was and it bugged me.
I couldn't place why but I felt more comfortable with Alexander than I did with Mateo? Just the thought itself will be considered cheating right?