I'd willingly left the gym with Randy but as soon as we'd exited out the sliding glass doors and entered the fresh air, he grabbed onto my wrist and dragged me to his car. We'd been driving for what felt like hours and I didn't recognize where we were going at all.

"I said-"

"I heard what you said, you stupid, little whore."

My head snapped in his direction. "What did you just call me?"

Without even a bat of his lashes, he spoke. "A whore."

I hindsight, I shouldn't have reached across and slapped him while he was driving, because the next thing I knew we were spiraling out of control. He gripped tightly onto the steering wheel and reacted fast enough so that we barely scraped the side of the railing of the highway and survived what could have been the ending of it all.

We sat in silence for a while, the only noise in the car was us panting heavily.

"You ok?" He looked over at me, but the only thing I could do was cry.

"Why do you hate me?"

He immediately undid his seatbelt and reached across the median of the car to comfort me, which I wasn't sure whether or not I appreciated.

"I don't hate you, baby." His assurance didn't help; I was still crying like a maniac.

"First you hit me, and now you're calling me terrible things..." I trailed off and sniffled as I tried to breathe.

"Baby, I only do this because I love you."

"Don't try and play that crap. You don't love me," I snapped. "People who love each other don't throw punches because they're pissed at themselves."

"Who said that it was my fault?"

My eyebrows shot up and I couldn't take it anymore. The blood that circulated through my veins was growing hotter and hotter by the minute and all I could do was get out of that vehicle as fast as I could.

"Cheyenne," he warned.

"Don't chastise me now, Randy. You're the last person who should be taking me anywhere."

"It's not my fault that we almost crashed," he spat as he exited the car in a frantic chase after me.

I was already walking against the fast cars that were heading past me, and the rush of air that hit me with every step helped dry the tears that were on my face. But, as he spoke again, I turned around to face him, this time the wind blowing me towards him.

"You're right, it's my fault that we're in this mess. It's my fault that you can't control yourself."

"Can you really blame me after the hell I've been through?"

"What hell, Randy? You're not the one who sleeps with their eyes open at night because their afraid that someone will decide to take their anger out on you," I admitted my fears. "You've become the animal that everyone warned me about."

"Who told you I was an animal?"

Without thinking or considering the state that he was in, I told him.

"Jon!"

We'd both stopped walking and it seemed as if all the cars on the road next to us had passed. Even though I felt like crying, no tears escaped my eyes.

I guess I'm a lot stronger than I thought.

"That's what this is all about," he muttered.

"What are you talking about now?"

"The reason that you don't want to be with me anymore."

I scoffed. "You think that I have feelings for Jon? And that he's the reason I don't want to be with you anymore?" He nodded in confirmation, and I laughed at the assumption. "You're so full of it, Randy! You...hit me and then try and make it out to be my fault that we're falling apart. You're the one that should be held accountable, not me."

"Have you ever thought about how it might just be your naïve, worthless self that could be responsible for my actions?"

"You're an asshole," I spat before turning and walking again.

"Have it your way, Chey. Walk back to the hotel, get lost, I don't care!"

Instead of saying another word, I simply threw up my arm and flipped him off as I was walking away.

Despite the nature of my situation, it would later make me feel better knowing that it the last time I would ever have to be within the same proximity as that prick again.

I don't really know how long it took me to find the hotel, but I don't think I've ever been more glad to see the front doors of a Hilton Hotel.

In fact, I nearly collapsed right onto the lobby floor once I walked into the air-conditioned plaza. The only thing that stopped me from doing so was the fact that the only other person in the lobby besides the man behind the counter was Danielle.

"You look like hell," she remarked. "Is everything ok?"

If I had any energy, I would have snapped back, but besides the fact that I wasn't sure whether or not she was trying to be offensive, I felt like I could have slept for the next year and a half or so.

"Don't," I warned, flashing her an exhausted expression.

She shrugged. "I was just trying to be polite."

Sighing, I turned back to face her. "You want to be polite, Danielle? Try keeping your legs shut around other women's boyfriends."

Walking away, I didn't even bother listening to any of her defenses. I was far too tired to hear anything that came out of that mouth.

Getting into the elevator, I could feel the sweat rolling down my back as I stood in silence. All I could think about was climbing into the shower in my hotel room and sitting there under the running water for hours. It wasn't the best use of my time, but considering all that happened and the fact that I didn't have any previous obligations, I found it to be a smart idea.

I was turning the corner of my hallway when I saw Jon leaning against my door with his phone in his hands.

Great. Just what I need. Another interruption.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I walked towards my door, pulling out the key from my purse.

His eyes shot up and he noticed my appearance. "What, did you walk here or something?"

I sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"I thought Randy was taking you home."

"He was. Until he started being an asshole," I admitted. I walked into my hotel room and heard the door shut behind me, leading me to believe that Jon had walked in with me, closing the door on his way in.

"What did he do now?"

The tone of his voice irked my suspicion. "What did he do before?"

He shrugged as he sat down at the counter. "He's always talking about other people. If you ask me, he thinks he's better and bigger than the whole company combined."

"Sounds like Randy," I muttered.

"But, really," he continued, "I want to know. What did he do?"

I took a sip from one of the water bottles from my refrigerator and then put it down in front of me, wiping my mouth clean from the excess water droplets. Taking a second to calm myself down, I thought about everything that happened.

"He...calmed me a whore," I whispered.

Jon's eyes widened and he sat there in silence for a while.

"What made him do that?"

I hesitated. "You."

If silence could kill, it would be committing a double homicide right now. We just stood there, me, waiting for him to say something in return, him...I don't know if he was shocked or embarrassed, but he didn't say a word.

It was probably a minute into the quiet when he sighed.

"Sorry, then." He seemed embarrassed...no, shocked. A little bit of both?

I shook my head. "It wasn't your fault. He overreacted to seeing us at the gym today."

"And, he took it out on you rather than coming to me like a man." He got up and began to pace a little. It was a strange sight to see, but it was right in front of me.

"Why are you getting so worked up about this?"

He stopped and looked at me with sad eyes. "He hit you, didn't he?"

It was my turn to be silent, but I tried to push past it. "It wasn't like that," I mumbled.

"Dammit, Chey!" He yelled. "Did he hit you?"

I wanted to cry, so I did. Sitting down on the stool next to the counter, I bawled my eyes out. I guess I gave it away, because the next thing I know, he was standing next to me with his arms wrapped around me, barely holding on. I felt safe, despite the circumstances.

I was right. I needed to be held by him.

"It was my fault," I cried into his shoulder. "If I hadn't been so useless."

"Is that what he told you?"

I nodded before crying even harder, causing Jon to tighten his grasp around me. The entire world around me was empty, and the only thing that existed was Jon and I. In that moment, I couldn't have asked for a better outcome for my terrible situation.

After all that Jon and I had been through over the past few months, feeling him there, next to me, it was perfect.

But, it was more than just perfect.

I felt something. Something, intense. Something burning within me.

I felt sparks. Cliché as it sounds, its true. The knots in my stomach were no longer knots, they felt like fluttering butterflies. Even more cliché, and even more true.

This is what I want.

But, I'm not going to tell him that.