🥊 Hate or Fate 💕 {Enemies to Lovers}

.21.

A/N ~ WARNING: This chapter contains physical violence. If this type of content is a trigger to you, you may want to skip this chapter. Also, if you suspect that you or someone you know may be suffering from abuse or violence, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233. Thank you.

.....................................................................................................................................

"You look amazing," Elijah's warm tone ate away at my resolve.

He also kept moving into my personal space, which was distracting.

Elijah's tight shirt contoured to his muscled pectorals. And his sweats, well, I knew what was under there.

The bruises covering his face were fading into lilac patches, making him look slightly ill but still very injured.

"Thanks," I kept my tone even. "How have you been?"

"Good enough to work a couple of days from home this week," Elijah bragged, lolling his head to give me puppy dog eyes. "I don't know if you know this, but, managing people on drugs is way more fun than sober."

"Good tip," I nodded, trying not to crack a smile.

He was so cute when he scrunched up his brows at me. I'd fallen for his charm and failed to see the truth, I had to keep reminding myself of that.

"So, can we talk?" Elijah rested his strong hand on mine until the outline of our fingers pressed into the supple leather of the couch. "Please, Isla?"

"All I have are questions," I struggled to stick to the script I'd written in my head. "And I know I'm not going to like the answers, so, I'm working up to it."

Inwardly, I was cringing at how discordant this felt.

It felt weird being mad at my best friend. He was the person I told every detail of my life for the past five years, but apparently, there was a big part of his life he was leaving out of our conversations.

I wanted answers. Actually, I deserved the truth, but I knew hearing it from him was going to ruin me.

"I understand," Elijah nodded as concern creased the stitches in his forehead. "But you've got to know, I only slipped once, and I deeply regret what I did to you, to us."

I swear, I heard a record scratch in my head at his lie.

My face twisted with the anger simmering beneath the cashmere sweater I'd borrowed from Rebecca.

"What about the years of lying Gray had to do for you?" I whispered.

Elijah's chest deflated as his shoulders slumped like a shriveling balloon until he looked notably smaller.

He stared down at his mangled hand, devoid of any reaction.

We didn't have many fights as a couple, which I always thought was proof of our solid relationship, but I'd seen Elijah get into some pretty gnarly scuffles at his fraternity.

Whenever he was about to lose his cool and start flipping tables (or a person), he got very quiet.

Like right now.

"What did Gray tell you?" He growled in a nearly unrecognizable voice.

"That he called you right before the accident to chew you out for all the years of lying he's had to do for you," I was a little shaken by his gravelly tone but managed to stay composed. "He said years, Elijah."

"And you fucking believed him?" Elijah's irises were ringed red and so big they were almost black.

I couldn't tell whether it was his blinding fury or a side effect of the drugs the doctors had him on. Either way, it was terrifying.