𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐘

[58] Two Truths

t w o  t r u t h s
CONRAD'S POV:

After a few minutes, I can feel Covey's breathing go back to normal and she lifts my head up to pull me to her chest. "What the fuck was that?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

Pinching her waist, I glare down at her. "Don't."

"I just fucking did," she says, holding my jaw in between her hands. "Hello to you too, Conrad."

"Hi Covey," I whisper, giving her a small and sadder kind of smile. "Baby, I really am sorry."

She tightens the features on her face and at the last second, averts her gaze away from mine. "Go fuck yourself."

I swear my mouth falls open. "Covey, what the hell!"

"I'm a big girl," she says, turning away from me. "Don't try to parent me because parents are such hypocrites. Just like you." Ouch.

"I know you're trying to put up an act," I conclude, sitting down on the couch next to her. "You are fully aware that you can't resist me, I just proved that, which is why I said not to forgive me right away. However—"

"Do not put this all on me," she says slowly, mildly, in control. "I told you to get your stuff together before you try to get us together."

"We are together." Right? "And you don't have to be a bitch to me, babe. I'm trying here. I want to explain but I just don't know how to." I tilt her chin up and hold it in my hand as I say, "I don't want to give you a reason to leave me."

She laughs a little and there's a faint trace of a smile across her lips. "You've already given me plenty, what's the harm of adding a few more?"

These are serious ones.

"I'm not an open book, I can't just say the things I want to say all the time," I mutter, looking down where her pinky finger has looped through one of my belt loops. 

"Really?" Her tone is almost sarcastic, if not mocking.

"Really. I may be an English teacher, but I can't, even if I really want to."

"Why?" she asks, searching my eyes. "Why is it so hard for you?"

"The last time I told someone something as personal as this, they didn't care." Veronica. "They left me. And yes, Covey, you aren't like anyone I've ever met and I'm in complete love with you, but I—"

She shakes her head before leaning it helplessly against the couch cushion. "If you loved me, you would trust me enough to know."

"That's not how it works, amore."

"Then tell me," she says, eyes brimming with tears but she fights them. "Who is Adalaide to Damon?"

I clear my throat, adjusting in my seat. And then I grab the book that fell to her side before flipping to a specific quote for her to read. "Here," I say after a minute. "Read it out loud."

She nods, taking the book into her hands. "'You are my fantasy, want, love, and desire. Everything I have ever wanted,' I tell her, the rain piercing against my face. 'Don't you know?'"

Covey shakes her head at me.

"Covey, there's your answer," I reply, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you know?"

"No," her tone is dead, "I don't know. I don't know why you have to be so closed off towards me. I get it, you gave me the lay of the land and told me about your dad. But I need to know that I'm more than just a flipping desire. I need to know why I'm so important to you... maybe then you'll understand why I need to know about your past and current problems." She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I've been trying to tell you that's what I'm here for, but it's not working. What else do you expect from me?" she cries, "To let you fuck me whenever you want?"