A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad to see you that like it. You're great!


Chapter 7. I Wish That I Was Bullet Proof

We all have our moments of regret. Seconds, hours, days in life we keep wishing we could turn back time for and redo. Make up for everything that went away. It can be anything. Words spoken at the wrong time. Actions turning in to consequences you'd never see coming. It can be asking a woman if she's pregnant when she's really just gained a bit of weight. Or slapping your best friend during a meaningless fight. It can be cheating on your girlfriend or missing out on a trip you really wanted to go on but made a last minute decision to stay home. Or forgetting to ask for that hot girls phone number during that frat party where you'd had a little bit too much to drink. It can be throwing up the same night on your mothers favourite leather couch. As I said. It can be anything.

Remorseful moments have a special way to make an impact on your life. I've had my share. But I've stopped counting them. Because they keep coming, no matter what. And this was just one of them.

Everything is coming back to life. I can hear the music. I can hear the girl underneath me fumbling with her zipper. I can hear my heart pounding through my ears. I'm surprised that not everybody is hearing it. The loud throbbing is giving me a headache. I'm already trembling. She is still standing there. I'm still focusing. But I can't move.

The dark haired girl is now dressed. I can feel her stare but I'm not moving. I'm not even blinking. I'm not breaking eye contact.

"Hey, baby, is everything alright? You've been in here for ag-" The voice that broke our silence is now stopping in its track. Someone is entering the room. A slender blonde makes her way in and is now gently resting her hand on Emilys arm. She's disturbing our staring contest. She makes me blink. She's disturbing my focus. She looks straight at me. Then turn her gaze to Emily again.

"Ems, baby, are you alright?" She is now rubbing her arm. Using a nickname she's not allowed to verbalize. A name that's not allowed to slip through her mouth.

I have no idea who she is. But I already know I don't like her. She looks a lot like me when I think about it. The blonde hair, the figure of her body, her taste in clothing, everything. The same thought seems to enter her mind as she throws me a quick glance.

Emily is now breaking our gaze. She's coming to it.

"What?" She turns to the girl beside her. "No, uhm, I'm fine."

She looks at me again. The dark haired girl beneath is now trying to move. Lifting my arm away from her shoulder. She turns to me. Leaning in. Whispering something. Emily and the blonde are still standing there. They're watching her every move. I can't hear what she's saying. I'm not listening. I couldn't care less. She gives me a sly smile before heading out. I'm thinking I probably know what she said anyway. She passes the two girls standing in the doorway. Mumbling a forged apology before leaving. My eyes still haven't left chocolate brown.

"Can we help you?" The blonde says. Looking with piercing eyes in my direction. She's catching on. She knows something's up. Something's not right. I already hate her.

I realize my jeans are slightly unbuttoned. Looking down, I reach for it. I'm coming to it. She's putting the pieces together. One by one. She knows what Emily just walked in to. She knows what she saw. But she doesn't seem to know who I am. Or maybe she does but just doesn't care. Maybe she doesn't know the truth. Maybe she's denying it. I don't know. I've lost focus.

I'm not really giving her a reply. Mumbling something. I need to leave. I need to get out of here. I need my focus. I straighten my shirt and head toward the exist. I need to pass them. I can't face her. I can't look at her. My eyes are flickering. I'm trying to hold back a scream. I know she's looking at me. I know she knows what I'm feeling. She always knew.

I'm passing them. Sensing the familiar vanilla scent while heading out. I can't breathe. I can't focus. I'm only regretting. I'm regretting coming here. I'm regretting seeing her. I'm regretting not saying anything. I'm regretting not calling her and asking how she was doing. I'm regretting not asking Cook who's fucking her nowadays. But I know now. And I can't stand it.

Cook sees me walking out. I'm holding the tears back. I can't for much longer. He knows something's wrong. He's coming after me. Calling my name. His voice is blending together with the beat of the music that is surrounding us.

I'm heading for the exit. I don't know where she is. I don't know if she even has left the bathroom. For all I know she might be doing exactly what I was ten minutes ago. I can't think about it. I need focus. Focus.

I feel a hand pulling on my shoulder. I'm already outside.

It's Cook. Pulling me in. I can't hold it inside any longer. I'm crying. I'm shaking. I'm breaking down right in his arms. And he knows why.

We've always had a mutual agreement. We never talked about it though. It was just something we both knew. I never mentioned her and neither did he. Well, not intentionally. Right now I keep wishing he would have. I keep wishing he would have told me about the blonde calling her "baby". Keep wishing I would have known.

"Hey, it's alright.." he says. Trying to soothe me. Trying to help me regain my focus. He knows I need it. I need it like my life is depending on it.

I keep crying. I keep shaking.

"You didn't know, Naokins. I should have told you, yeah. But I didn't know if you could handle it. I didn't think you would, you know? And I was right." He knew what I was thinking. He knew what I was feeling. "I didn't know they were coming here tonight. I swear. I didn't even see them walk in."

He keeps talking. I'm not listening. I just keep seeing her face. Her mellow brown eyes watching me in shock. In disgust. Just as I once looked at her. And I know now who she's with and who she thinks of when going to bed. I know whose neck she cuddles up into before falling asleep and I know she smells the same. I know now who makes her heart beat faster and who makes her moan in pleasure. I just wonder if the freckles that once lived on her velvety skin are still being touched. Counted. Kissed.

And I still wonder if she thinks of me when somebody notice them.

So there are these moments. These moments in life we can never turn our backs on. Our moments of regret. Seconds, hours, days in life we keep wishing we could turn back time for and redo. Make up for everything that went away.

It can be anything. It can be never forgiving your ex for once cheating on you. Never forgiving someone for turning their back on you. Stabbing a knife in your already broken back. I could spend a lifetime trying to make up for mine. Trying to pick up the pieces of a puzzle I've never been able to solve. A never ending task that would take an eternity to get done. That's why I chose instead to forgive other peoples slip-ups. So they might one day be able to forgive me for mine. That's why I've stopped counting them. Because they keep coming, no matter what.

And this was just one of them.