Wasted On You (BWWM)

Pretty Broken Heart

She couldn't believe him. The look on her face said it all. It was the only image in his brain every time he closed his eyes to tell himself he regretted his actions. There was a reason he raised his voice at her but it would only turn into an excuse. For weeks he'd been playing off his feelings so she could be happy. He didn't want an ounce of his doubt to hold her back.

Morgan didn't want her to fucking go.

He'd been building on the house like there was no tomorrow. Sitting at the bar like it was his first home. Waking up in his truck whenever he fell too deep into his thoughts and didn't make it inside the house.

Coby figured it's because Abigail hadn't been home since she stormed off many nights ago. In reality, it's Marlie's bad news that fell out of the sky one after the other. He didn't know how much more his heart could take of her constantly putting him on the back burner when his whole life he planned to put her first.

He didn't need another ounce but he gave himself three more.

The front door opened with a creek and all he could do was set his glass back down after taking a sip. He knew exactly who was walking down the hall by the sound of her boots hitting the floor in only a pattern unique to her. "Could've waited all night," he smiled down at his glass of whiskey. "Shockingly, it's only nine o'clock."

"And you're drunk this early." She set her purse down on the counter and took a seat on the empty barstool next to him. Her keys hit the counter next. "I was hoping I'd get back before you did so I can shower at least."

He swirled the brown liquid around in his glass and watched it go with a stern expression. He never once looked over at her as she stared down at the man slouched in his seat. "Ya want to shower and then talk or talk now 'cause once we're done, neither of us are going to want to be in the same house."

He then placed his glass down and straightened his back as he turned to face her. The soft look on her face showed that she was pleading with him but he was intoxicated and had his mind focused on one thing.

"Why? And I'm asking ya with the calmest tone of my nature. Why would ya go to my sisters house and threaten to shoot her?" His eyes were heavy from the alcohol but his voice was steady from the anger threatening to sober him up. "She's six months pregnant. An emotional mess. Sensitive as cotton." Abigail parted her lips to speak but nothing came out. Marlie tightened his hand to a fist and used it to hit the top of the counter. "I said why! Got damnit!"

She jumped almost out of her chair at the sound echoing through the air. His body was tensed and he wasn't letting up on her. "It wasn't for her, Morgan! It was for fuckin' Marlie!"

Now his eyes seemed as if they would cut her to pieces. Abigail gulped when he stood up from his seat and towered over her. "That suppose' to make it better? I'm suppose' to be relieved hearin' you threatened to shoot Marlie?" He drug his hand down his face as a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Unbelievable."

"You're doing something-"

"Take the ring off." Abigail's heart visibly stopped in her chest. "Take the ring off. Put it on the counter."

"You're drunk, babe. You don't mean nothin' coming out of your mouth." She tried to massage her small hands down his chest to calm him down but he shook her off him. This struck a nerve in his fiancée that he'd never hit before. "You're gonna call this off over that black girl! You're embarrassing Morgan! Disgusting at that!"

He fought the smile on his face as he took another sip of his whiskey. He then sat down in his seat and looked up at the petite woman screaming to the top of her lungs at him. "Ya lost me when ya thought bringin' her race into this would somehow change a damn thing." She cursed and shouted over him and sent a few strikes to his arm. When the last hit caused a bit of his drink to spill in his lap, that crossed his imaginary line.

Abigail yelled when he grabbed her wrist and forced the ring off her finger himself. He then let her go in the midst of her pulling away from him. Before he could catch her, she stumbled into the back of the couch and flipped right over and onto the floor.

Morgan panicked and rushed to help only for her to jump up on to the couch and lunge over it and straight at him. Like a cat that found it's meal, she wrapped around his upper body in refusal to let go despite how much he pulled her off.

"You think you're fucking leavin' me!" She started pulling at his clothes as her legs tightened around his torso. He used the couch as cushion as he threw himself down then rolled off and right on top of her. The two of them were now on the floor since that was the only way he could get on top to pin her down. "You're not doing this, Morgan! You're not doing this to me!"

Both of them were out of breath and used this time to catch some air. He had her wrists pinned to the carpet and his knees locked on either side of her waist. Morgan looked down at her as her hair covered all of her face and the only thing moving was her mouth as she continued to let him have it. Her words were bouncing right off his ears since all he could think about was what went down in the quick minute.

He then looked around and saw the couch and coffee table were out of place. His whiskey glass was tipped over on to the counter and something on him was burning but he couldn't pinpoint where. He then looked back at her and she was quiet. Her panting was loud but her voice was very quiet.

"Abigail, 'm gonna leave now. You can do whatever you want but you and I aren't together anymore. So I am leavin' you and 'm leavin' this house. Do you understand?"

He couldn't see her eyes but he knew they were closed since she started sobbing right in front of him. He slowly released her wrists and she used her free hands to cover her face. He then used the couch as support to get him to his feet. She curled into a ball as the cries got louder and harder.

"You threatened my family, Abby. There just ain't no coming back. 'M sorry."

He limped over to the counter and collected the ring to put in his pocket. He then left right out the front door without a change of clothes or even a look back.