Ice To Meet You

That was a mouthful to swallow

He drives ahead in silence—I am not crying hurt right now. I am the 'I want to bang his head on the wall and hurt him back hurt'—the 'I want revenge' hurt.

He reaches for my hand and I remove my hand briskly as if his touch is contaminating. The car is at a dangerously high speed and he's driving recklessly—I want to stop him and say something but that would involve a conversation with him. Right now—I can't talk and not yell. Don't ask me why I am angry—he led me on. He treated me gently and he gave me affection and against all hope—he made me believe I had a chance when really, I did not. What he did is the definition of bread-crumbing.

He abruptly stops at the light and I almost fling from my seat—my heart beating in my ear. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Are you trying to get us killed?" I utter, the bitterness in my veins is alarmingly satisfying. I can hear my breathing—that is how pissed I am at him and a tiny part of me knows I don't have any right to be.

"Talk to me Mia," he is really pushing my buttons today.

"I have no desire to talk to you ever again Liam." I declare, the ice in my chest hardening. I can feel the wall my heart is creating against him forming. I am nothing if not a master self-preserver.

"You are being irrational right now," he is provoking me further right now. I bite my tongue from lashing out.

"Be dignified and take the high road Mia," Inner voice instructs me and it is hard but you know what? I'll do it.

I don't say a word—I close my eyes and pray that we make it back in one piece. He's driving rash and my anxiety is at an all-time high.

"Are you upset that Sophia was here with me tonight?" He asks me—does he really not know why I am angry?

I don't say a word. High road—I keep reminding myself.

He stops the car abruptly in the middle of the street—what the fuck? He is pushing his hair back and his hands are off the steering wheel. The car behind us honks—then the other one honks—we are in the middle of the street in New York and he has stopped the car at one of the busiest streets.

There is a car on our left that has its windows down but Liam is looking at me and paying no attention to the person probably cussing us out—oh yes, I see the finger—definitely cussing us out.

"Liam we are in the middle of the street!" I yell, the awkwardness of people staring at us in the middle of the street and the honking making me particularly self-conscious.

"We will stay here for as long as you don't talk to me," he announced, his hands still not touching the steering wheel. There is a car on our right probably held up because of us —what kind of person is he?

"Please move William," I emphasize his full name because I do not know this ridiculously unreasonable man sitting beside me. I look around and we've created mayhem. I won't be surprised if we have the NYPD car approaching us if we don't move.

"Okay, I'll talk. Please move," I plead some sense into him. He moves the car and I have never been this mortified in my life before—except for the time nobody picked me to be on their team because I was too fat and I had to stand there all alone humiliated.

"Mia talk to me," his voice is firm but I can hear the underlining uneasiness in it.

"I don't want us to interact with each other ever again." My voice is stronger than I feel but I will not let a guy make me feel less than anymore. Tonight was the wake-up call I never knew I needed.