Closing her eyes again, she sighed deeply, "Danny, I really don't think now is a good time to talk about this."
"No time is going to be a good time to talk about this," he admitted, "But it needs to be done."
She closed her eyes, and dropped her head back. If he wanted to talk about this now, then she needed to gather all the rambling thoughts she had had about it for the last month and a half. She felt all the questions come flooding back into her mind. She felt all the anger, rage and self-doubt wash over her.
He watched as she closed her eyes again and let her head fall back. He watched as her chest began heaving again, and her head snapped up, her eyes full of fire.
"You wanna talk? Fine we can talk," folding her arms across her chest, "You want me to start?" she asked, but didn't wait for him to answer. "Was she any good?"
"Lindsay," he sighed. Shut it Messer. You asked and this is what she is feeling. Take it like the man you want to be for her.
"Nope, you want me to talk, this is what I have to say," she said jutting her chin out sternly, "Did she wrap her legs around you? Did she moan your name? Did she beg you to fuck her harder?" she began, her lip beginning to quiver as if acting defiantly against her, the bile rising up in her throat again. "Did she help you remember the good times with Ruben? Did she make you forget that you had me?" she covered her face with her hands, her eyes burning from the tears building up.
Watching her and all the pain he caused her, made him want to pull his service weapon out and shoot himself, but if they were gonna get past his huge fuck up, he needed to hear what she had to say, and she needed to get out what was on her mind every time she looked at him. He wanted to take all these thoughts away from her, take all these false images she had created in her mind away, but he knew he couldn't. He may never be able to.
"I tried Danny, I really tried," she began sobbing, "I did everything I could think of to get you to talk to me. Why wasn't I good enough for you?" she let all the pain she felt take over her again, her body racked with sobs.
He couldn't just sit there anymore; he didn't care if she beat him and didn't want him anywhere near her. He moved to her and pulled her into his arms, she struggled against him, "No," she begged, "Please don't!"
"Lindsay, Montana, baby, you didn't do anything wrong," he assured her, tears streaming down his face, "I love you so much. She's never been anything to me."
"Ow," she sobbed as all her twisting and fighting against him, began to take its toll on her wounded hip.
"Relax, baby. Please? You're hurting yourself," he soothed, stroking her hair, "You're my girl. You and our baby are the only people who mean anything to me. I love you, baby." He soothed pulling her as close to him as she would allow.
"How could you do this to me?" she sobbed, her small frame convulsing with every breath, "Why wasn't I good enough? Why didn't you trust me? Why?"
"You are good enough, baby. I was the one who was stupid; I was the one who didn't see what I had right in front of me. You are my heart, Montana. I love you."
She began pushing on his chest to push him away from her, "Now you don't, you bastard! I hate you! God, I hate you so much!"
Seeing the pain in her eyes, and hearing all the angry, hateful words she said almost tore him in two, but he knew he deserved it. He held her tight against him; let her cry out all the rage and anger she had towards him. Stroking her hair, her back, whispering words of love, devotion and apologizes.
"I know you do, baby," he said, not leaving his post from the side of her bed, "But I'm not going anywhere."
"I hate myself for doing this to you," he added softly, once her wailing sobs had turned to hiccups. He kissed her forehead, and settled her back into her pillows. "You need to rest, Montana." He whispered before he realized she had already cried herself asleep.