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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I stood and watched Donald lose everything he had.

After he ended, he shook hands with the others and accepted defeat while I not so subtly laughed at him.

"If you know you can't play, why did you in the first place?" I asked as we got in the car to leave, after saying goodbye to Jo and Reynard.

"I felt I would get lucky," Donald whined.

"Lucky?! You took a big risk counting on luck?"

"Yeah!"

"You must get 'lucky' often to think of such."

"No, I don't think I do."

"Oh!" I burst into another laugh, he joined me.

"Y-you are not lucky, but counted on luck?"

"You make it sound stupid," Donald shook his head.

"It is not? I'll forever hold this against you"

"That makes me happy, you think of it as forever."

"..." I looked at him like he had poop on his face. He sure knows how to turn a situation around.

"Hey! Eyes on the road!" Donald shouted as the car swerved a bit.

"It was your fault!"

"What did I do?"

"You're distracting me!"

"You find me distracting?" He teased.

"Hey!...you-you scumbag!"

"You got it right this time!" Donald jubilated.

"Stop rejoicing!"

"Why would I? You don't think I'm an asshole anymore!"

"Who told you that!"

"You didn't call me an asshole."

"So?"

"Does that mean you still think I'm an asshole?"

"It doesn't matter! I can't believe I'm arguing with you like a child."

"Of course it matters."

"Why does it?"

"It matters because I think you're a wonderful, lovely, and nice person that is fun to be around but you think I'm an asshole."

"...."

He j-just said I-I......

I stole glances at Donald and was caught many times throughout the rest of a silent ride.

We finally stopped in front of my company building and Donald stepped out.

"Thanks for allowing me come with"

"Mm," I nodded. He turned to go, "wait!.....goodnight?"

Donald smiled at me, "goodnight."

~~~

For the past years of my life, nobody had me believing them when I was called 'nice'. But when he said it, it held so much honesty; I felt it just might be true.

He had me wanting it to be true.

He counted on luck, luck failed him. I counted on love, love broke me.

I sat on a barstool at my home bar, watching the bubbles in my drink as they float from the bottom to top and burst.

I chuckled, he called me nice. Ha! Well not everybody thinks so!