I got in the car silently after Mich told me she loved me. It was heat of the moment.

'Right? I couldn't help but wonder at this point.

We were both upset. She was just saying it to try and reel me back in.

'Right?'

I wasn't gonna leave her; I was just pissed off. How else did she expect me to react when I saw her with another guy? How would she have felt if she'd seen me hugged up with another girl? The closer I'd gotten to them, I'd realized that she was in a panic. And I admit, I probably should have been calmer about it all. I was more pissed off that she never opened up to me about him. He must have really fucked her up for her to be that upset over him still. It had been four years, I knew that much, but that was all I knew. I didn't know how they came to an end. What did she see in him anyway? Shrimpy thing, probably three inches or so taller than her, and he looked like a knock-off Randy Orton with his beady little eyes and stupid ass beard.

I drove us silently back to her place. We didn't speak, but I wanted her to know that I wasn't completely pissed off at her at least. I took her hand into mine and kissed it. She gave me a teary half-assed smile and went back to staring out the window as I drove.

"Are you not gonna speak?" I asked her.

"What is there to say?" she replied sharply, shrugging. She still didn't look at me.

I sighed, exasperated, and pulled my hand away from hers and put them both on the wheel.

"Why'd you pull away?" she snapped at me.

"I'm trying to drive, Mich," I snapped back.

I knew she was rolling her eyes right then. She crossed her arms and huffed, but still didn't speak.

"You could tell me what the hell all of that was about back there. Why was he all over you? And why are you so damn scared of him?" I said, still frustrated.

I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and if that meant us screaming at each other, then so be it. I pulled into an empty parking lot and put the car in park.

"Come on. Talk. Because if we're gonna be together you gotta tell me shit. I'm not gonna deal with you being all secretive and shit; especially about your ex. I've been open with you. You can do the same for me," I said. My voice was harsh. I realized that a little too late though.

"I'm not being secretive. He's my ex. There's nothing to say," she snapped, releasing her seatbelt. She still wouldn't look at me. Her hand was on the door. What was she gonna do? Walk home?

"Yes there fucking is, Michelle. He had you in a fucking state of panic. What did he do to you?! Did he hit you?! I'll go back and whip his ass. Motherfucker. I just want you to talk to me!" I hit the steering wheel.

The horn honked when I did and I could see Mich trying not to laugh even though she was crying again. I hated to see her upset. She wiped her eyes and shook her head. Even though she was angry at me and her makeup was running down her face, she was still so damn beautiful. I realized somewhere in the midst of our fighting that I was in love with her, without a doubt, but now wasn't the time to tell her that. If I told her I loved her and this ended badly, it would kill her. I mean, more likely than not, kill her. I couldn't have that on me. I never wanted to be the reason for her pain.

"No. He never hit me. He never physically abused me," she said. We'd been sitting in dead silence for at least half an hour since I'd asked the question. The only noise was the cars passing on the highway, the hum of the engine, and the sound of the heat blowing out of the vents. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

"Then what happened?"

"Maybe I just don't wanna talk about it, Jon! It hurts, okay?!" She was yelling now. Her face was red, her entire body trembling again. She had so much emotion built up inside of her. It wouldn't hurt her to get it all out.

"I need to know, Mich, so I don't do it too. Just fucking open your mouth and talk to me. I'm your boyfriend. You want me to move in with you. We gotta have some kind of god damned communication!" I yelled back at her and hit the steering wheel again. Sweat was beading on my forehead and I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. My adrenaline was running a hundred miles an hour. I had to fight the urge to shake the truth out of her, but that definitely wasn't the answer.

" He's the reason I hate myself. He told me I was fat and ugly and that no one would ever want me. He dated me out of pity. He bailed when his friends found out about me. Then he wrote a song about me and played it in front of me and all of his friends. I can't look at him without having flashbacks to that. That's what happened, okay? Now you know. Can we please just fucking go home now?"

Mich was gasping for breath between body-shaking sobs. She'd emptied her lungs screaming at me. I wanted to comfort her, but I doubted she'd let me. I just drove back to her apartment silently, both hands on the wheel once she finally caught her breath and stopped crying as hard.

I turned the radio on to a country station and turned the volume up, trying to drown out my thoughts. I wouldn't apologize for the way I reacted. I wasn't sorry for how I reacted, at least not at the moment. I was sorry it had upset her though. It broke my heart to see her so torn up because of me. I knew we were bound to get into it eventually. Things had been too smooth sailing from the get go for us to not eventually have some kind of big dumb argument. I didn't really expect it to be over something like this.

Maybe all my exes were right; maybe I was insecure. Maybe I was possessive. I never saw myself as the jealous type, not until now. My philosophy was that if a girl wanted to be with someone else, then fuck it, she could go be with someone else. Not Mich. She was mine – all mine. When I saw her with her ex, this jealous raging monster inside of me came to life, scratching and clawing its way out of me. I felt myself turn into something else. I never wanted Mich to see that side of me. That side of me was called Mox, and he stayed tucked away for a reason.

When we got back inside her apartment, she went into her room and closed the door. Maybe she needed some time alone. There was so much tension in the car between the bar and her ‒ our apartment. Did I still live here? I needed a minute to think anyway. I paced the living room, pondering what I could say or do to make her feel better, but nothing that came to mind seemed helpful. I needed a smoke. I patted my bag down for my emergency pack and stepped out onto the balcony. I shoved a cigarette between my lips and lit it, taking a long drag. It was getting cold out again. I released the smoke into the night air and took another drag off my cigarette. I hoped Mich could forgive me for blowing up like I did. I hoped so. I really couldn't stand the thought of her hating me. I'd fucked up every single relationship I'd ever been in and I was on the fast track to doing the same to this one.

'Fuck, I have to fix this.'

I couldn't lose her. I snuffed out the cigarette on the red brick wall and went back inside, closing and locking the sliding glass door behind me. I knocked softly on Mich's door, hoping she'd allow me to come in.

I heard a sniffle before she called back to me to come in. I crawled in bed behind her and wrapped my right arm tightly around her, pulling her body against mine. I hoped I was doing this making up thing right. I'd never done it before; never cared to before now. She sniffled again, but didn't say anything. Maybe it was best that we didn't say anything. I kissed her shoulder softly and rubbed her hip with my hand. She still had on all of her clothes and boots. I knew she couldn't be comfortable. I got up and unlaced her black vinyl boots, removed them from her feet and dropped them to the floor. I rubbed her feet after I removed her socks, starting with the arches and moving to the balls of her feet. I placed a soft kiss on the inside of her ankle, then right below her knee, and on the inside of her thigh before she'd even look at me.

"Jon," she said my name in a near whisper.

"Shh," I quieted her, rubbing her legs softly.

My hands drifted up and found the waistband of her leggings. I pulled on them gently as if to ask her for permission. She lifted her hips ever-so-slightly, allowing me to pull them off of her. I smirked to myself when I saw she wasn't wearing any underwear. I removed her leggings fully and discarded them to the side with her boots and socks and started kissing up her legs again, this time stopping just below her belly button, skipping over the most sensitive parts of her. I wanted to save the best for last. I pushed her shirt up slowly, kissing up her stomach until I got just below her breasts. She tried to resist, pushing her shirt down, but I pushed it back up. She hated herself so much because of her piece of shit ex. I was going to make it my mission to erase every bad thing he'd ever done to her.

"Sit up," I instructed her. I did the same and pulled my shirt off, tossing it aside into the growing pile of discarded clothing and shoes. Mich sat up slowly, watching me closely. I leaned in, kissing her lips softly. I could tell she'd been crying again, her mascara and eyeliner had left streaks down her pale cheeks. I tried wiping them away, but her tears had already dried turning into stains.

"You're beautiful," I told her, pushing her plaid shirt off of her shoulders behind her. She shook her head, looking away. I turned her face to mine gently and kissed her again.

"Don't argue with me," I said.

Mich laughed softly.

"Yes sir," she replied, blushing deeply.